A Journal of Media History
Winter 1999
Volume 16, Number 1
J American -j _•
ournalism
"Truth Is Our Ultimate Goal": A Mid-1 9th
Century Concern for Journalism Ethics X7
Stephen A. Banning
From Populist to Patrician: Edward H.
Butler's Buffalo News and the Crisis of
Labor, 1877-1892 41
Michael J. Dillon
Power of the Press: How Newspapers in Four
Communities Erased Thousands of Chinese
From Oregon History 5y
Herman B. Chiu
Common Forms for Uncommon Actions:
The Search for Political Organization in
California's Dust Bowl '7
James Hamilton
1998 Presidential Address: The
Historiographical Tradition in 20th
Century America 1Q5
James D. Startt
Great Ideas: E. W. Scripps Papers Provide
An Important Journalistic Window for
Scholars 133
Gerald J. Baldasty
Book Reviews. 143
A Journal of Media History
American
Winter 1999
Volume 16, Number 1
ournalism
Editor Shirley Biagi
California State
University, Sacramento
Book Review Editor David Spencer
University of
Western Ontario
Assistant Editor Timi Ross Poeppelman
California State
University, Sacramento
Design GwenAmos
California State
University, Sacramento
Former Editors William David Sloan
University of Alabama
Gary Whitby
East Texas State
John Pauly
Saint Louis University
Wallace B. Eberhard
University of Georgia
1999 American Journalism
Historians Association Officers
President Eugenia Palmegiano
Saint Peter's College
1st Vice President William David Sloan
University of Alabama
2nd Vice President David Copeland
Emory Henry College
Administrative Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist
University
Treasurer Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State
University
Historian Alf Pratte
Brigham Young
University
Board of Directors David Abrahamson
John Coward
David Davies
Wallace Eberhard
Kathleen Endres
John Ferre
Tracy Gottlieb
Pat Washburn
Julie Williams
Definition of History
For purposes of written research papers and publications, the term history
shall be seen as a continuous and connected process emphasizing but not
necessarily confined to subjects of American mass communications. History
should be viewed not in the context of perception of the current decade, but as
part of a significant and time-conditioned human past.
Editorial Purpose.
American Journalism publishes articles, book reviews and correspondence
dealing with the history of journalism. Contributions may focus on social,
economic, intellectual, political or legal issues. American Journalism also welcomes
articles that treat the history of communication in general; the history of
broadcasting, advertising and public relations; the history of media outside the
United States; theoretical issues in the literature or methods of media history; and
new ideas and methods for the teaching of media history. Papers will be evaluated
in terms of the authors systematic, critical, qualitative and quantitative investiga-
tion of all relevant, available sources with a focus on written, primary documents
but not excluding current literature and interviews.
Copyright
© American Journalism Historians Association 1999. Articles in the journal
may be photocopied for use m teaching, research, criticism and news reporting,
in accordance with Sections 107 and 108 of the U. S. Copyright Law. For all
other purposes, including electronic reproduction and/or distribution, users must
obtain written permission from the editor.
Submission Guidelines
Authors submitting research manuscripts for publication as articles should
send five manuscript copies (including an abstract with each). Manuscripts
should follow the Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, and should not exceed
the recommended maximum length of 20 pages. Research manuscripts are blind
refereed.
Great Ideas is designed to showcase new approaches and information about
the teaching of media history. Great Ideas are typically three to six manuscript
pages. Authors of Great Ideas should first query the editor.
American Journalism is produced on Macintosh computers using Microsoft
Word 6.0.1. Authors whose manuscripts are accepted for publication are asked to
submit their work on PC or Macintosh disk, formatted in Microsoft Word 5-0
or 6.0.1.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism
Send Submissions to
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A Journal of Media History Winter 1999
Volume 16, Number 1
xAmerican
J American \ •
ournalism
Editor's Note 9
"Truth is Our Ultimate Goal" : A Mid- 19th Century Concern for
Journalism Ethics 17
Stephen A. Banning
The author explores the beginnings of the first professional journalism
organization, established in the mid-1 9th century.
Edward H. Butler's Buffalo News and the Crisis of Labor, 1877-1892:
From Populist to Patrician 41
Michael J. Dillon
This article chronicles the response of Edward H. Butler, who founded
the Buffalo Sunday Morning News in 1873, to two great labor conflicts: the
rail strike of 1877 and the Great Strike of 1892.
Power of the Press: How Newspapers in Four Communities Erased
Thousands of Chinese from Oregon History 59
Herman B. Chiu
By examining four early Oregon newspapers, the author concludes that
immigrant Chinese were repeatedly misrepresented and unrepresented in the
1800s.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 5
Common Forms for Uncommon Actions: The Search for Political
Organization in Dust Bowl California 79
James Hamilton
The author examines mimeographed newspapers published in the late
1930s and early 1940s in a California migrant labor camp, in an effort to
explain the attempt of migrant workers to organize for political action.
1998 Presidential Address: The Historiographical Tradition in 20th
Century America 105
James D. Startt
The American journalism Historians Association Past President examines
the evolution of historical narratives and concludes that history was alive and
well in the 20th Century.
Great Ideas: E.W. Scripps Papers Provide An Important Journalistic
Window for Scholars 133
Gerald J. Baldasty
The author walks us through the enormous manuscript collection ofE. W.
Scripps, housed at Ohio University, and offers research suggestions.
Book Review Editor s Note 143
Book Reviews 1 43
Editor's Choice: The Black Press: Soldiers without Swords
(Video) 143
by California Newsreel
Reviewed by David R. Spencer
Joint Operating Agreements: The Newspaper Preservation Act and
Its Application. 145
By John C. Busterna and Robert G. Picard
Review by Jim Mueller
Media and Public Life 147
By Everette E. Dennis & Robert W. Snyder (Eds.)
Reviewed by Michael Ante col
6 Table of Contents • Winter 1 999
Museum of Broadcast Communications Encyclopedia of
Television, 3 Vols 149
By Horace Newcomb (Ed.) Cary O'Dell (Photo Editor) & Noelle
Watson (Commissioning Editor)
Reviewed by Frances Wilhoit
PR! A Social History of Spin 151
By Stuart Ewen
Reviewed by John P. Ferre
Pragmatic Fundraising for College Administrators and
Development Officers 153
By Ralph Lowenstein
Reviewed by Ted Garrard
Studies In Newspaper and Periodical History: 1995 Annual . . 154
By Michael Harris and Tom O'Malley (Eds.)
Reviewed by Kathy English
Wireless: Strategically Liberalizing The Telecommunicaitons
Market. 156
By Brian J. W. Regli
Reviewed by James Hamilton
Winter 1999 • American Journalism
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
Brigham Young University
http://www.archive.org/details/americanjournali16amer
Editor s Note
Historians, like journalists, often reflect the political and
social agendas of the times in which they live. Today's
professional standards and news values — good and bad —
are the direct result of the daily decisions that publishers and journalists
made in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, according to the authors
writing in this issue of American Journalism.
The evolution of press ethics — the standards by which the media
police themselves — is the subject of "'Truth Is Our Ultimate Goal': A
Mid- 19th Century Concern for Journalism Ethics" by Stephen A. Ban-
ning. Most media scholars claim that the first professional press codes in
America emerged in the early 20th century, but Banning has uncovered at
least one press association that developed serious concerns about journal-
ism ethics in the mid- 19th century.
In "From Populist to Patrician: Edward H. Butler's Buffalo News
and the Crisis of Labor, 1877 - 1892," Michael J. Dillon explores the
classic ethical dilemma faced by all American publishers. Can newspapers
maintain their crusading spirit once they start making money? Dillon
explains that New York's Edward H. Butler, like many publishers, seemed
to abandon his affinity for the cause of labor once his newspaper grew
successful.
Publishers also can select which people in a community deserve
coverage. In the 1800s, mainstream Oregon newspapers ignored the news
from Chinese communities, says Herman Chiu, in "Power of the Press:
How Newspapers in Four Communities Erased Thousands of Chinese
from Oregon History." Chinese immigrants comprised half the popula-
tion in some Oregon cities, says Chiu, yet news about the Chinese
population's activities in these cities is virtually invisible in the local
newspapers.
James Hamilton's discussion of news values extends to 1930s
California in his article, "Common Forms for Uncommon Actions: The
Search for Political Organization in California's Dust Bowl." Hamilton
examined mimeographed newspapers published by Dust Bowl migrants
Winter 1999 • American Journalism
to express their outrage at unhealthy working conditions and poor wages.
The workers, says Hamilton, tried to organize to improve their lives, but
never found a successful outlet to promote their point of view.
Just as newspapers can reflect competing news values for the times
in which they are published, scholarly approaches to history often reflect
the societies in which historians work. James Startt explains the evolution
of scholars' historical methods in his 1998 Presidential Address, reprinted
in this issue from his presentation at the Annual Conference of the
American Journalism Historians Association in October 1998 in Louis-
ville, Kentucky.
Historians can uncover the personality of one of the nation's great
turn-of-the-century press lords by sifting through the vast E. W. Scripps
Manuscript Collection, now available to scholars at Ohio University in
Athens, Ohio. In Great Ideas, Gerald J. Baldasty describes the depth of
the collection of 200,000 documents and letters, covering the late 19th
and early 20th centuries.
For the first time ever, David Spencer ranks a video as his Editor's
Choice in the Book Review section. And don't forget to check the list of
available back copies on page 1 1 so you can complete your collection of
American Journalism, which begins its 16th volume with this issue.
Shirley Biagi
Editor
1 0 Editor's Note • Winter 1 999
American Journalism
Back Issues
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(both combined issues)
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Nos. 1-2 (combined issue)
Volume 11
(1994)
Nos. 2, 3, and 4
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(1995)
Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4
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American Journalism Reviewers
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Winter 1999 • American Journalism
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American Journalism Reviewers • Winter 1999
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Purdue University
Winter 1999 • American Journalism
15
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16
American Journalism Reviewers • Winter 1999
"Truth is Our Ultimate Goal": A
Mid- 19th Century Concern for
Journalism Ethics
By Stephen A. Banning
This research examines a mid-1 9th century Missouri press association
and presents evidence that, contrary to Frederic Hudson's contention that all
press associations at the time were insignificant social organizations, at least
one press assocaition had serious concerns about journalistic ethics and the
future of journalism. In fact, themes in the Sigma Delta Chi and American
Society of Newspaper Editors' codes of ethics mirror some early press association
discussions, indicating that concern for ethics in the mid- 19th century may
have been aprecurser to the first codes of ethics that emerged in the 20th
century.
The development of codes of ethics in journalism has a
special significance, as many journalism history and ethics
writers have viewed codes of ethics as a benchmark of
journalistic professionalization. Sociologists include codes of ethics as a
major characteristic of a profession, along with professional associations
and university education.1 Thus, finding early association discussions of
ethics helps establish the time period when interest in journalistic
professionalization began,2 as well as provides insights into the motiva-
tions of journalists in the 19th century.
Stephen A. Banning is Assistant Professor of Agricultural Journalism in the Department of
Journalism at Texas A&M University.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 17
To examine journalistic credibility jn the mid- 19th century means
searching beyond the editorials of the major editors. Historians have
done and redone studies of the leading journalistic figures of the 19th
century The rationale has been that only individuals influence the course
of journalistic history.
Organizations, however, also can have a profound effect on history.
Alexis de Tocqueville noted that associations were having a great impact
on the United States during the mid- and later 19th century.3 Some
sociologists see the organization, not the individual, as the primary
catalyst for professionalization. Sociologist W.J. Reader notes, "An
occupation's rise to professional standing can be pretty accurately charted
by reference to the progress of its professional institute or association."4
Thus, studying early journalistic associations is vital to an understanding
of professionalism in general and press codes specifically.
Evidence has recently been presented which indicates that the
Missouri Press Association (MPA) was a professional association in the
19th century5 and advocated university education.6 This paper will look
at primary sources from the MPA to see if the sources reveal some early
professional discussions of journalistic ethics. The writer also will com-
pare MPA oration topics in the mid-1 9th century with the American
Society of Newspaper Editors (ASNE) and the Sigma Delta Chi (SDX)
professional ethics codes of the 20th century for possible parallels.
This research does not seek to determine whether the MPA was the
first press association to entertain discussions on professional aspects of
journalism. Rather, this research seeks support for the hypothesis that
state press associations in the mid- 19th century were concerned about
journalism ethics. A positive indication that the MPA discussed ethical
concerns parallel to those eventually codified by the ASNE and SDX
would support this hypothesis.7
Early Roots of Professionalization
It is important to note that this research does not relate to the scope
of state press association activity during the mid- 19th century. Even if
there is evidence that the MPA was involved with ethical discussion at this
time, this study does not claim that the MPA was the only, or first, press
association to do so. Still, a positive indication that the MPA was in-
volved with professional activity is significant because it pushes back the
roots of journalistic interest in professionalization. If further research into
primary sources reveals many press associations discussed these same
Banning* Winter 1999
ethical principles, journalism historians may need to consider ascribing
more importance to the role of state press associations in journalism
history.
If we are to take Frederic Hudson's word in 1876, many press
associations were not interested in serious matters.8 This prompts further
questions of what patterns may exist which characterize the state press
associations during this period, and how they may have contributed to
journalism history.
It should also be noted that the MPA was not the first press associa-
tion. In 1876, Frederic Hudson described the first press club as begin-
ning in 1851. However, Hudson describes that club, and state press
associations in general, as being more in the order of drinking clubs.9
Thus, the concept that press clubs were engaged in serious discussion, a
concept central to this research, is in complete disagreement with
Hudson's assessment of press clubs at the time. The researcher will use
primary sources (MPA press association minutes) to investigate Hudson's
charge.
Contradicting 20th Century Beginnings
The concept of journalistic professionalization beginning in the
19th century is a new concept,10 as most journalism history accounts
indicate the drive for journalistic professionalization began during the first
part of the 20th century. For instance, in a 1986 article in Journal of Mass
Media Ethics, John Merrill states journalists did not begin to call them-
selves professionals until after World War II, stating:
Journalism has gone a long way toward becoming a profes-
sion....Whereas in the pre- World War II days, journalism
was known as a "craft" or a "trade" — or simply not given a
label at all — it is now quite common to hear it referred to
as a profession."
Other accounts differ. Mary Cronin and James McPherson, who
researched state press association codes of ethics, claim journalists com-
monly referred to themselves as professionals as early as the start of the
20th century, commenting:
The professionalism movement sweeping journalism at the
start of this century also provided some of the motivation
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 1 9
to create the codes. Buoyed by the press' increasing
predominance in daily life, many journalists began calling
their work a profession rather than an occupation or trade.12
Cronin and McPherson also present a lengthy list of references where
journalists at the start of this century and thereafter referred to themselves
as professionals.13 In Journalistic Standards in 19th Century America,
Hazel Dicken-Garcia notes professionalism was encouraged in the mid-
19205.14 Marion Marzolf in Civilizing Voices saw journalistic profes-
sionalization as a 20th century phenomenon.15 Marzolf remarks:
Efforts to reform journalism in the pre- World War I era
were strengthened by the formation of the first journalism
departments and schools and by the start of professional or-
ganizations to promote common ideals and values.16
Other scholars who have shared the view that professionalization is a
20th century phenomenon include Sidney Kobre,17 Douglas Birkhead18
and William May.19
The Historic Tie Between Codes of Ethics and Professionalization
Past journalism historians such as Bert Bostrom have seen the
proliferation of press codes in the 1920s as further evidence of a 20th
century journalistic professionalization trend.20 In James Melvin Lee's
1923 book History of American Journalism, Lee called the first few years of
the 20th century a period where the nation became aware of the need for
ethics and ethics codes.21 Lee referred to the journalists' interest in ethics
as a reflection of the national "trend of the times."22 He credited the
moral influence of President Woodrow Wilson, writing:
Practically every newspaper before 1 900 had been, as
Mr. Watterson [editor of The Louisville Courier-] ournal\
asserted, a law unto itself, without standards of either
work or duty: its code of ethics, not yet codified like
those of medicine or of law, had been, like its stylebook,
individualistic in character.23
Despite the historical emphasis on the proliferation of press codes in
the 20th century, however, press codes did exist prior to the 20th century.
George Payne in his 1 940 book History of Journalism in the United States
20 Banning* Winter 1999
commented that a literary magazine Public Ledger did have a loose set of
rules as early as 1864, although Payne did not specify what they were.24
Hazel Dicken-Garcia pointed out the presentation of six ethical principles
at the Minnesota Editorial Association in 1888.25 However, these anoma-
lies were not the norm of 19th century journalistic behavior.
The first professional journalistic press code came into existence in
1911, according to journalism historian Hazel Dicken-Garcia,26 or 1910,
according to journalism historian Leon Flint.27 Sigma Delta Chi (SDX)
was one of the first national professional press organizations and their
code was adopted in 1926.28 According to Clifford Christians, the SDX
code was an imitation of the ASNE code adopted three years earlier, but
became the most nationally recognized code.29 While the codes them-
selves may have been initially promoted by individual editors,30 they were
championed by professional journalism groups.31 Thus, the historical
foundation points to professional journalistic codes of ethics originating
in the 20th century.
Unearthing Clues from the MPA Minutes
J.W. Barrett, a founding member of the MPA,32 its president in
198733 and 186834 and the publisher of the Canton Press, recorded and
compiled the MPA minutes for 10 years.35 The MPA commissioned
Barrett to keep a historical record of the MPA's proceedings, which
included an agenda of events of each meeting, a narrative of the conven-
tion's highlights, along with the complete versions of the many lengthy
original poems, and the full texts of the annual "orations."36 Thus,
Barrett's minutes consist of outlines of the meetings' agendas along with
an almost complete record of the highlights, even the poems and ora-
tions.37
After the MPA's tenth convention in 1876, the MPA officials paid
Barrett to print 300 copies of the full minutes for the MPA members.
Barrett printed and bound the MPA minutes in volumes 136 pages long.
Historian William Taft used the minutes in writing Missouri Newspapers58
three decades ago, but other than that the minutes have been largely
forgotten. Within the MPA minutes, discussion of ethics is very evident.
The first 10 years of MPA minutes are filled with lectures on ethics, and a
chronological sampling of these speeches illustrates the MPA members'
passion for ethics.
For instance, in 1868 MPA member C.B. Wilkinson39 talks at
length about current standards of journalism in an oration at the MPA
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 21
annual meeting. He recognizes a higher standard of journalism than in
times past by comparing MPA members to journalists during the Ameri-
can Revolution. Wilkinson states, "How far they fell short of our measure
of public journalism."40 Wilkinson believes the early journalists merely
recorded news instead of seeking a deeper analysis of the facts. This
indicates the presence of a set of standards or, in Wilkinsons words, a
"measure" of journalism. Later, Wilkinson re-emphasizes the importance
of ethics in stating:
In all matters of principle the voice of the editors should be
the voice which truth and right send up from his inmost
soul. ...He cannot move counter to his own convictions
of duty41
The Need for Principled Journalism
The annual address the following year contains a similar reference to
specific "measures." MPA member Norman J. Colman discusses the
importance of principled journalism and stresses the need for editors to be
open to measures which would lead to principled journalism. Colman42
states:
The Press either elevates the tone of the public mind or
debases it — depending upon the manner in which it is
conducted. If conducted upon high and honorable
principles, the public mind is elevated in a corresponding
degree.. ..In all matters affecting the people, they should
be found willing and eloquent advocates of all measures
having the good of the people in view.43
Later Colman advises, "It is always better to deal with facts and prin-
ciples."44
An address in 1873 contains a more direct reference to an unwritten
code of ethics. MPA member John Marmaduke45 says the "moral stan-
dard" of the press, while already existing, should be higher. He elaborates
by scorning sensationalism and, after outlining press scandals regarding
Horace Greeley and Lord Byron, he comments:
The moral standard of the Press is not compatible with the
magnitude of its power nor the measure of its responsibility.
It is too ready to accommodate itself to a perverted public
22 Banning -Winter 1999
taste. It has the ability, and ought to create and lead, and
not follow and pander to public sentiment.46
Marmaduke concludes his speech by enunciating a mission state-
ment for journalists in which he lists a number of specific ethical stan-
dards. In enumerating ethical standards, Marmaduke states:
Lastly, we conceive the mission of the Press to be to elevate,
not debase; to enlighten, not darken; to instruct, not deceive;
to inform, not mislead; to disseminate good, not evil; to
propagate truth, not error, — in general, to promote the
welfare of our race and bear us on to a higher destiny.47
Marmaduke assumed he was speaking for the entire MPA with the plural
pronoun "we." He indicates an MPA mission statement.
The following year Milo Blair48 was also concerned about sullied
journalism and saw good conduct as vital if journalism were to maintain a
good reputation. In 1874, Blair warns against sensationalism:
How careful we should be with the manner in which we
conduct our papers. ...To unsullied journalism shall our
land look, and to its trumpet tones, march with the noble
and free, in the van of civilization.49
In 1875 Mark DeMotte50 stresses ethical journalism, the "one true
foundation,"51 when he comments:
Give the conduct of such a paper to an educated man of
good mind and morals — strong in his convictions of right,
and fearless in the expression of those convictions, and there
is no end to the good he may accomplish.52
MPA Creates Rules of Conduct
The specific MPA rules of conduct were announced the following
year. At the June 6, 1876 MPA convention in Macon City, William
Switzler53 enumerated four rules which MPA members were to follow:
First: Allow no temptation to secure your consent to the
publication of articles long or short, in prose or poetry,
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 23
original or selected, which are demoralizing in their
character....
Second: ....Give the substance. Omit the useless details....
Third: ....As preliminary to profitable writing, and as a
preparation for it, much reading and study is essential.
Much brain-work, and often exhaustive research and more
exhaustive thought, all unknown and quite frequently
unappreciated by those who read newspapers....
Fourth, and lastly: We are just entering upon the Centennial
Presidential campaign.... Great and singular perils and strong
temptations to bitter words and partisan excesses, will environ
the press. Let us illustrate a royal virtue by resisting them....
while we are sometimes partisans we are always patriots —
above all, that we are not only editors — but gentlemen.^
There is no record that the rules were formally adopted by a vote,
but the fact that the MPA enumerated proposed rules of conduct does
indicate advanced thinking along the lines of associational conduct.
The ethical considerations enumerated above of 1) no demoralizing
articles, 2) substantive articles, 3) intelligent articles and 4) no bitter
partisan articles were not the only items of ethical concern. In fact, a
number of ethical themes reoccur throughout the MPA minutes. These
ethical themes, reiterated time and time again by MPA orators, closely
parallel the themes in the so-called "professional" ethics codes of the
1920s.55
Parallels Between Early MPA Ethics and Professional Press Codes
A point-by-point comparison between the SDX and ASNE press
codes, and the MPA code reveals strong similarities. This is relevant to
the MPAs efforts to professionalize because the SDX manual states that
the purpose of SDX is to promote professionalism.
Sigma Delta Chi, Professional Journalistic Fraternity, is a
professional society for men engaged in journalism,
dedicated to the highest ideals in journalism, and is
comparable to those professional organizations serving
the professions of medicine and the law. In this unique
role, Sigma Delta Chi constantly endeavors to raise the
24 Banning •Winter 1999
standards of competence of its members, to recognize
outstanding achievement by journalists and to promote
recognition of the fact that journalism is a true profession.56
While a group of students founded SDX at DePauw University in
1909 with the purpose of benefiting "the noblest profession of them all,"57
the ethics code wasn't adopted until 1926. The SDX press code lists eight
items relating to accuracy and objectivity. They are:
1 . Truth is our ultimate goal.
2. Objectivity in reporting the news is another goal, which
serves as the mark of an experienced professional. It is a
standard of performance toward which we strive. We honor
those who achieve it.
3. There is no excuse for inaccuracies or lack of thoroughness.
4. Newspaper headlines should be fully warranted by the
contents of the articles they accompany. Photographs and
telecasts should give an accurate picture of an event and
not highlight a minor incident out of context.
5. Sound practice makes clear distinction between news
reports and expressions of opinion. News reports should be
free of opinion or bias and represent all sides of an issue.
6. Partisanship in editorial comment which knowingly departs
from the truth violates the spirit of American Journalism.
7. Journalists recognize their responsibility for offering
informed analysis, comment and editorial opinion on public
events and issues. They accept the obligation to present such
material by individuals whose competence, experience and
judgement qualify them for it.
8. Special articles or presentations devoted to advocacy or
the writer's own conclusions and interpretations should
be labeled as such.58
The ASNE's "Canons of Journalism" are similar. The Canons of
Journalism are a list of six articles including "Responsibility," "Freedom of
the Press," "Independence," "Sincerity, Truthfulness, and Accuracy,"
"Impartiality," and "Fair Play and Decency."59
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 25
Truthfulness Can Scatter Prejudice
The first item of the Sigma Delta Chi press code listed above,
"Truth is our ultimate goal," or as the ASNE's Article IV puts it: "Sincer-
ity, Truthfulness, and Accuracy" was directly referred to in almost every
MPA address and is evident in a chronological look at references to truth
through the first 10 years of the MPA. In 1868, in an oration, C.B.
Wilkinson explicitly advocates truthfulness in one form or another four
times. He hints at the concept when he remarks, "A well conducted
newspaper being a record of humanity, a faithful mirror of the pre-
sent...."60 He elaborates later in the address, "Men who live after us will
have the full and truthful history of our times. To be interesting and
valuable, the newspaper must be truthful."61 He devotes a full page to
discussing the importance of having a "full and most reliable report of all
news of the day up to the hour and moment of their publication,"62 and
then wraps up the section on truthfulness with this admonition for
totality of coverage:
This is undeniably true; and this compels the editor of a
daily journal to live nearer than any other living man to
the great throbbing heart of the world. He must catch
its every pulsation, note its every tremor, and faithfully
report its every spasm. Not a ripple on the stream of time
must escape his watchful pen; no voyager launch thereon his
trembling craft without his notice, and no bark go down in
its angry foam, without his making the proper entry in his
diurnal log.63
While Wilkinson discusses other issues, he returns to the topic of truth-
fulness as an instrument to scatter prejudice. In his conclusion, he says:
In all matters of principle the voice of the editor should be
the voice which truth and right send up from his soul....
The newspaper scatters the mists of ignorance and prejudice
by flooding the pathway of man with the sunlight of truth.64
Thus, Wilkinson stresses the need for truth to be a guide for conduct
involving "all matters of principle."
The May 19, 1869 annual address in St. Louis contains more direct
references to the need for truth as a foundational principle. Norman J.
Colman instructs the MPA members to avoid vindictive personal attacks
26 Banning* Winter 1999
which undermine the truth,65 expounds on the importance of truth to the
progress of civilization and reveals his belief that truth is the foundation
for the elevation of mankind.66 He also sees truth as a basis of credibility,
remarking:
But if untruthful, reckless statements and assertions are
published as truthful the tone of the public mind is gradually-
debased, [and] becomes as familiar with falsehood as with truth,
and pays but little credence to anything that is published.... If
these lines are true, what a fearful responsibility rests upon the
Editorial profession! How guarded should they be as to what
appears in their respective journals.67
At the same convention, MPA member Thomas Garrett (unmen-
tioned in the MPA minutes except as the author of one poem)68 of the St.
Louis Republican echoes Colman's sentiments in a poem called "The
Giants," which refers to the journalist's stature in society. Garrett claims:
Her [journalism's] purpose pure is hedged by vestal vow,
And Truth's auroras dawn upon her brow.69
Another poem written by P.G. "Jenks" Ferguson of the Missouri
Democrat, and presented to the 1 870 MPA convention, broaches the
importance of truthful journalism as a basis for progress:
Let truth and justice still your motto be,
Firm in your cause and fearless to its foes;
Ranging the world of thought in fancy free,
Kind to the weak, and tender of man's woes.70
In 1871, J.C. Moore71 discusses the importance of truth as a foun-
dation for progress and vital to the advancement of journalism. In
emphasizing totality of coverage he states:
There is no limit to the capabilities of the ideal journal of the
future.... While it reflects with absolute truthfulness the most
minute circumstances of the every day life transpiring around
it.. ..It will follow the merchants' ships around the world.72
At the May 22, 1 872 MPA convention in Sedalia, truth was also a
component of a poem by MPA member J. N. Edwards of the Kansas City
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 27
Times?1 In his 1872 oration Edwards paints a bleak ethical picture of the
then current state of journalism, writing:
There was Chastity faint with the fight,
Her virtue unaided had won;
There was Merit, too, pale in the light,
Lest Justice left duties undone;
Faith kneeling by altars thrown down;
And Purity gaudily dressed;
On Charity's face was mirrored a frown,
Truth's azure brow had never a crown,
Nor courage a star on his breast.74
The following year John S. Marmaduke's oration also stresses truth
as one of the principles which constituted the mission of the press as a
basis for societal progress. Marmaduke says:
Lastly, we conceive the mission of the Press to be... to
propagate truth, not error, in general, to promote the
welfare of our race and bear us on to a higher destiny75
Another direct reference to truth takes place in 1 875 in an oration
by Milo Blair on the importance of independent journalism.76 In 1876,
William Switzler admonishes MPA members to seek a high standard of
truth, saying: "Accuracy of statement, not simply general truthfulness,
entire reliability of detail is an object worthy of special attention."77 Thus,
truthfulness, an important element in the ASNE and SDX journalism
ethics codes of the 1920s, has been found to be an important element in
the ethical framework of the MPA in the 1 870s as well.
The Root of the Objectivity Standard
The next ethical issue enumerated in the SDX press code is that of
objectivity; this corresponds to the ASNE's Article V: "Impartiality."
While this element was not a concern among MPA members as an issue
by itself, the MPA minutes do stress the importance of gaining the whole
truth and obtaining accurate reports. Thus, the concern of objectivity is
addressed in the coverage of the issues of truth and accuracy.
Additionally, Switzler's call for MPA members to adhere to patrio-
tism over partisanism in 1 876 shows a concern for the notion of overcom-
28 Banning* Winter 1999
ing prejudice to achieve a true perspective.78 There is no direct correlation
for this in the SDX code, but this seems to correspond with the ASNE's
Article III, which calls for independence. This stance was not unusual
among newspapers, as partisanship was dying nationwide at this time.79
Prescriptions for Accuracy and Completeness
The elements of accuracy and completeness, the third item in the
SDX press code, and reflected in the ASNE's Article VI, calling for "Fair
Play," are prescribed numerous times throughout the MPA minutes. C.B.
Wilkinson delivers the first such admonition in 1 868, stressing the
importance of accurate reports four different times. In a quote used
earlier in this paper in discussing truthfulness, Wilkinson emphasizes: "A
well conducted newspaper being a record of humanity, a faithful mirror of
the present, a panorama of the active scenes we daily engage in...."80
Wilkinson stresses the importance of accuracy in calling the news-
paper a "faithful mirror," and emphasizes completeness in referring to the
newspaper's coverage of the "panorama," or landscape, of humanity's
activities. Wilkinson also describes the breadth of activities a newspaper
covered as examples of how a newspaper is a "faithful record" of
humanity's activities.81 Wilkinson repeats this theme of completeness and
accuracy again in an extended discussion of the subject two pages later,
stating:
Men who live after us will learn the full and truthful
history of our stirring times, by perusing the columns of
our daily newspapers.... Men make equally as serious
blunders, and shock the good sense of all intelligent observers
quite as much when they publish in the newspapers grossly
exaggerated accounts of every-day transactions, or false
statements affecting the character and true standard of
men who contemporaneously move on the stage of life.82
J.C. Moore also speaks of the value of completeness and accuracy in
1870. From the content of his words it is clear Moore was promoting
completeness and accuracy as two ways to achieve truth. Moore says: "It
[the newspaper] reflects with absolute truthfulness the most minute
circumstances of the busy every day life transpiring around it."83 In 1874,
MPA member Milo Blair bluntly demands accuracy with this admoni-
tion: "Let all reports be as full as the occasion may require and as accurate
as you can get them."84
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 29
In 1875, MPA member Mark DeMotte gave the subject of accuracy
a thorough treatment in his annual address to the convention in a discus-
sion covering six pages. He warns:
That a paper is needed in a community is no assurance that
a poor article will be accepted. We can no more palm off
upon the people a spurious article, than can a merchant
or manufacturer.85
DeMotte goes on to emphasize the importance of accuracy from an
ethical and practical standpoint,86 and concludes by explaining that the
press' responsibility to be accurate is based on the public's "right to
know."87
In 1876, MPA member William F. Switzler not only discusses the
accuracy and completeness theme at length, but he also advocates it,
describes it, and advocates it again. Switzler advises:
Above all they [correspondents] should be specially instructed
to be scrupulously correct, even in the smallest details, in all
their reports; to guess at nothing because people who pay
for and read newspapers desire them to be reliable.88
Here Switzler uses three descriptive phrases to define the term
"scrupulously correct" so that there is no confusion as to its meaning.
Also, the word "reliable" comes into use again as it did in earlier references
to accuracy by Mark DeMotte.89
Due to developments in technology, not every specific concern of
the SDX code in 1 926 can be expected to square with the ethical concerns
of the MPA during the time period of the decade following 1867. For
instance, the SDX code deals with the accurate use of photographs and
telecasts. Not surprisingly, there is no specific reference in the MPA
minutes to any of these topics due to the fact that those technologies did
not exist, or, in the case of photography, had not been adequately devel-
oped for use by newspapers.
The SDX press code also calls for news reports to be untainted by
bias; this corresponds to the ASNE's Articles V and VI regarding "impar-
tiality" and "fair play." This is a concept that has no direct parallel in the
MPA minutes, although Switzler might have hinted at it in the previously
mentioned admonition calling for, "entire reliability of detail."90 How-
ever, the lack of a direct reference indicates this was a concept that did not
greatly concern the MPA.
30 Banning* Winter 1999
The SDX press code also calls for an end to untruthful partisanship,
a point which coincides with the MPA's stand on this issue as well. Many
of the references in the MPA minutes which deal with this issue have
already been covered in the discussion of the MPA's concern for truth,
accuracy and objectivity. William Switzler's advice that journalists were
expected to be patriots, not partisans, is one example.91 This disillusion-
ment with partisan reporting was not unusual in Missouri at the time.92
Responsibility — The Obligation to Educate
The SDX code also contains an expectation of the journalist's
responsibility to present information and editorials to the public regarding
public issues; this corresponds to the ASNE's Article I, calling for journal-
istic "Responsibility." This obligation of the press to educate the public
and elevate their understanding of public events and issues was a major
topic in the MPA meetings and speeches.
From the first address of C.B. Wilkinson in 1868, it is evident that
the MPA saw the newspaper as vital to society, and the publisher's role as
one of great responsibility. Wilkinson says, "The newspaper.. .must be
consulted on all occasions. The humanity of this day cannot exist
without it. It is a prime necessity, and it should be our duty to keep it
so."93 The following year Norman J. Colman reiterates Wilkinson's
concern with the newspaper's responsibility to inform the public.94
J.C. Moore also repeats this theme in his address to the convention
of 1870. Moore places the journalist's obligation to inform above all
other responsibilities, claiming: "The education and elevation of the
masses in every department of knowledge will be its [the journalist's]
special purpose and mission."95 Later Moore suggests that, "The Press
will have become the first of the mental agencies, having every re-
source...through which to reach and influence them [the public]."96
In 1873 John Marmaduke also emphasizes the press' obligation to
disseminate information to the public. Marmaduke sees the press as not
only uniquely qualified to do the job but also extremely effective in its
efforts. Marmaduke boasts, "It [the press] is doing more to disseminate
knowledge and to educate people up to a certain standard and at less
expense than all other instrumentalities of the age."97 Marmaduke also
refers to the press' watchdog role in remarking, "By its [the press'] vig-
ilance and omnipresence Tyranny is anticipated and its purpose de-
feated."98
The following year Milo Blair delivers the annual address and also
refers to the pervasiveness of the newspaper's ability to inform. Blair
comments:
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 31
Journalism has a high and immortal mission to perform.
Like a wand of a magician, its wing sweeps nearly every
land, and shall yet penetrate the wildest haunts of the world,
where the shadow and superstition of ignorance falls heavily
over the people."
One year later Mark DeMotte refers to it in more detail. DeMotte
discusses the power of the press and its corresponding responsibility to
inform the public in stating: "The vast power of the press — how it
moulds public sentiment — how it makes and unmakes presidents and
administrations — how rolling of its cylinders shakes the world and almost
rules it."100 Later in his speech DeMotte explains, "[A newspaper ought
to be] the guardian of the welfare of the community, and the zealous
advocate of its rights and interests."101 In 1876 the press' obligation to
inform the public was the subject of a resolution voted on by the entire
MPA.102
That same year the obligation to inform was also a topic of William
F. Switzler's 1876 address covering the press' power in its ability to inform.
Switzler explained: "How it [the Press] has rendered invaluable aid to the
cause of liberty, religion and literature throughout the world."103 Switzler
discusses at length the importance of the watchdog function of the press
by commenting:
[The Press is] a reflex of the opinions and an exponent and
defender of the rights and interests of the people among
whom it is specially circulated. It is theoretically and ought
to be practically, an honest and sleepless sentinel of the
watchtower of their liberties, and a guardian of their special
interests, industries and activities whatever they may be.104
Switzler sees this watchdog aspect of the obligation to inform as a
cornerstone of democracy, remarking: "I am, therefore, firmly persuaded
that the perpetuity of our free institutions. ..depends in no small degree
upon the vigorous existence and fidelity of the country press."105
Advocacy As Puffery
The final item in the SDX press code calls for presentations devoted
to advocacy to be labeled as such; this concept is also indicated in the
ASNE's Article I where the journalist is warned against using power for
"selfish" motives. The MPA minutes address this topic at length as well.
32 Banning* Winter 1999
The MPA's discussion of this focuses on the then common practice of
puffery, the insertion of promotional pieces for people, politicians, or
products into editorials which purported to be the opinion of the editor.
References to puffery appear 1 1 times in the MPA minutes. In a
poem read at the May 10, 1870 MPA convention in Kansas City, P.G.
Ferguson of the Missouri Democrat describes the then current newspaper
as one where puffery was common. Ferguson writes:
Puffs, lectures, meetings, local news complete,
With now and then a dish of book reviews....
Puffs of new books, old cuts of foreign scenes —
Such is the magazine of modern fashion.106
Later in the poem Ferguson compares those who propagated puffery
with Judas Iscariot. He writes:
This journal stooped, and like a mousing owl,
Sold its opinions with unblushing face
And smeared its sacred robes with offal foul.
Judas, who sold his Master, we despise,
Yet poverty, perchance, was his excuse;
But who can view, with charitable eyes,
This venal slayer of the golden goose!107
The next discussion of puffery occurs in another poem. This one
was written by C.B. Wilkinson and was delivered in 1871. In the poem
called "The Editor," Wilkinson pokes fun at the typical editor who
engages in puffery. Wilkinson writes:
Who puffs lean men to swelling notoriety,
And blows up many an office-holding "flat."108
In 1874 MPA member Milo Blair challenges the puffery issue head
on in his address to the convention. Blair warns:
I am satisfied that the custom of wholesale puffing, as generally
practiced by the press, is doing journalism no little injury. So much
of it is done on worthless persons especially, we hardly know where
or when to look for true merit.109
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 33
Blair also specifically addresses political puffs in a manner parallel to
that of the SDX press code and ASNE Canons. Blair advises:
It [a politician's ad] must appear as an advertisement paid for by
him and not as our judgement and opinion. Our readers have a
right to know whether what we say of the fitness of a man for party
nomination is our own belief or the drivel of a hired brain.110
The following year, in 1875, Mark DeMotte discusses the impor-
tance of abandoning the use of puffs. DeMotte states:
I express the opinion of every practical newspaper man in
this house, when I say that to print paid personal puffs, as
our own editorial or local opinion, is a prostitution of our
paper wholly inexcusable; and if indulged in to any great
extent, will bring the just contempt of the public upon us.111
From the previous references it is clear the MPA advocated doing away
with the practice of puffery. The speeches showed the MPA's contempt in
that there were comparisons of editors who engaged in the practice of
puffery to traitors and prostitutes.
An Early Standard for Excellence
The evidence seems to indicate that this state press association was
involved in discussing serious aspects of journalism. This appears to
contradict Frederic Hudson's previously mentioned characterization that
press associations were not of a serious nature. Further research could be
directed at examining the minutes and other primary records of press
associations in the 1 9th century for patterns of interest in professional
development.
It may be that Hudson's characterization, while not universally
inaccurate, did apply to some press associations. The reasons for differ-
ences in early press association characterization could reveal how journal-
ists in different geographic areas perceived themselves and their relation-
ship to journalism. Perhaps frontier journalists were more or less likely to
feel a need to professionalize.
Perhaps the predominance of certain political forces influenced
editors. A search for patterns among press association minutes could
begin to fill in pieces of the puzzle regarding the influence of 19th century
state press associations on journalism history.
34 Bannning* Winter 1999
Endnotes
'Marianne AJlison, "A Literature Review of the Approaches to the Professionalization of Journal-
ists," Journal of Mass Media Ethics 1, no. 2 (spring/summer 1986): 6; A.M. Carr-Saunders, "Profes-
sions: Their Organization and Place in Society," (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1928), 3; Robert
Dingwal and Philip Lewis, The Sociology of the Professions: Lawyers, Doctors and Others (New York: St.
Martin's Press, 1983), 8; Abraham Flexner, "Is Social Work a Profession?" School and Society 1 (1915):
901-1 1; Ernest Greenwood, "Attributes of a Profession," Social Work 3 (July 1957): 44; Everett
Cherrington Hughes, Men and Their Work (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1958), 134; Wilbert E. Moore,
The Professions: Roles and Rules (New York: Russel Sage Foundation, 1970), 123; Talcott Parsons,
"Professions," International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, ed. David Sills, 12 (New York: 1968):
545.
Sociologist Wilbert Moore defines stages of professionalization. These include a groups
attainment as (1) an occupation, (2) a calling, (3) a formalized organization, (4) an organization
requiring education, (5) an organization with a service orientation, and (6) an organization enjoying
autonomy. Wilbert E. Moore, The Professions: Roles and Rules (New York: Russell Sage Foundation,
1970), 4. An overview of the problems of defining journalistic professionalization can be found in a
dissertation by Patricia Louise Dooley, Development of American Journalistic Work in the
Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries: Journalists, Politicians, Political Communication, and
Occupational Boundaries, Ph.D. dissertation, University of Minnesota, 1994, 13-29.
3Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America (New York: Vintage Books, 1945), 138; Richard
Taub, American Society in Tocqueville's Time and Today (Chicago: Rand McNally College Pub.
Company, 1974), 90.
4W.J. Reader, Professional Men (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1966), 161.
5Mid-19th century sources indicate MPA members understood professionalization and saw the
MPA as a professional association. Sources indicate other press clubs at the time were bohemian in
nature and resembled drinking clubs. Stephen Banning, "The Missouri Press Association: A Study of'
the Beginning Motivations, 1867 - 1876" (paper presented at the annual meeting of the annual
American Journalism Historian's Association Conference, Lawrence, Kansas, Oct. 1992), 1-21;
William Switzler, "Publisher's Convention," Missouri Statesman, May 10, 1867, 2; William Switzler,
"Lawyers Arrested," Missouri Statesman, May 1867, 4; William Switzler, "Missouri Editor's and
Publisher's Association," Missouri Statesman, May 15, 1867, 2; John Weeks Moore, Historical Notes on
Printers and Printing 1420 To 1886 (Concord: Republican Press Association, 1886), 25 1-69;
Augustus Maverick, Henry J. Raymond and the New York Press for Thirty Years: Progress of American
Journalism From 1840 To 1870 (Hartford: A.S. Hale and Company, 1870), 328-29; Frederic
Hudson, Journalism in the United States From 1690 -1872 (New York: Harper and Brothers
Publishers, 1873). 665; Alfred McClung Lee, The Daily Newspaper in America (New York: The
Macmillan Company, 1937), 123-24; "Among the Associations," Newspaperdom 1, no. 7 New York:
Chas S. Patteson (November-December 1892): 16; Gerald Baldesty, The Commercialization of News in
the Nineteenth Century (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1992), 101; Sidney Kobre,
Development of American Journalism (Dubuque: Wim. C. Brown Company Publishers, 1969), 725.
Stephen Banning, "Unearthing the Origin of Journalistic Education" (paper presented at the
Association of Educators in Journalism and Mass Communication Midwest Journalism History
Conference, April 1994), 1-13.
7The Sigma Delta Chi was founded in 1909; the American Society of Newspaper Editors was
founded in 1922. The ASNE, however, was the first to adopt a formal code of ethics in 1923. The
Sigma Delta Chi code was adopted a few years later and paralled the ASNE code. According to
Clifford Christians, the Sigma Delta Chi code became the most recognized press code. Clifford
Christians, "Enforcing Media Codes, " Journal of Mass Media Ethics 1, no. 1 (fall/winter 1985-86): 14.
8Frederic Hudson, Journalism in the United States From 1690-1872 (New York: Harper and
Brothers Publishers, 1873). 666.
'Hudson, 666.
'"Stephen Banning, "Unearthing the Origin of Journalistic Professionalization in the Mid-
Nineteenth Century," MA thesis, University of Missouri, 1993, 100.
"John C. Merrill, "Professionalization: Danger to Press Freedom and Pluralism," Journal of Mass
Media Ethics 1, no. 2 (spring/summer, 1986): 56; Merrill expresses a similar viewpoint in Imperative of
Freedom: A Philosophy of Journalistic Autonomy (New York: Hastings House, Publishers, 1976), 123-
42.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 35
12Mary Cronin and James McPherson, "Reaching for Professionalism and Respectability: The
Development of Ethics Codes in the 1920s," (paper presented at the annual American Journalism
Historian's Association Conference, Lawrence, Kansas, Oct. 1992), 4.
13Ibid., 20.
MHazel Dicken-Garcia,/oKr7M/zVftV Standards in Nineteenth Century America (Madison: University
of Wisconsin Press, 1989), 233.
I5Marion Turtle Marzolf, Civilizing Voices: American Press Criticism 1880-1950 (New York:
Longman Publishing Group, 1991), 14.
,6Ibid., 50.
l7Kobre, Development of American Journalism, 733-36.
,sDouglas Birlchead, "The Power in the Image: Professionalism and the Communications
Revolution," American Journalism 1, no. 2 (winter 1984): 3; Douglas Birlchead, "News Media Ethics
and the Management of Professionals," Journal of Mass Media Ethics 1, no. 2 (spring/summer 1986):
37.
"William E May "Professional Ethics, The University and the Journalist," Journal of Mass Media
Ethics 1, no. 2 (spring/summer, 1986): 20.
20Bert Bostrom, Talent, Truth and Energy: Society of Professional Journalists Sigma Delta Chi
(Chicago: Society of Professional Journalists, 1984), 18.
2,James Melvin Lee, History of American Journalism (New York: Garden City Publishing Co., Inc.,
1923), 388.
22Ibid.
23Ibid.
24George Payne, History of Journalism in the United States (New York: D. Appleton-Century
Company, Incorporated, 1940), 25 1 -
25Garcia, Journalistic Standards in Nineteenth Century America, 257.
"Ibid., 8.
27Leon Nelson Flint, The Conscience of the Newspaper (New York: D. Appleton and Company,
1925), 429.
"Clifford Christians, "Enforcing Media Codes," Journal of Mass Media Ethics 1, no. 1 (fall/winter
1985-86): 14.
2>Ibid.
30Cronin and McPherson, "Reaching for Professionalism and Respectability," 1.
31Christians, "Enforcing Media Codes," 14.
32J.W Barrett, comp., History and Transactions of the Editors and Publishers Association of Missouri
(Canton: Canton Press Print, 1876), 1.
33Ibid., 2.
34Ibid., 7.
35Barrett, an interesting historical figure himself, began the Canton Press in 1862 with reconstructed
equipment from a paper destroyed by Union soldiers and, along with MPA colleague Norman J.
Colman, became a University of Missouri curator in 1870. Floyd Calvin Shoemaker, Missouri and
Missourians: Land of Contrast and People of Achievement (Chicago: Lewis Publishing Company,
1943), Vol. 1, 1005; Floyd Calvin Shoemaker, "History of the First Fifty Years of the Missouri Press
Association," 1917, Unpublished Manuscript, State Historical Sociery of Missouri Library, 161.
36Barrett, History and Transactions, Preface.
37The one exception to this is the oration given during the convention of 1872, held in Sedalia,
Missouri. Barrett could not find a copy of this oration and notes in the Minutes preface that the text
of this oration had to be omitted. There is also no oration for the 1870 convention due to the fact
that the delegated orator Stilson Hutchins, editor of the St. Louis Times and eventual founder of the
Washington Post, did not show up at the convention, and the MPA officials dispensed with the annual
oration for that year. Geo. P. Rowel 1, American Newspaper Directory: 1 871 (New York: Geo. P.
Rowell & Co., 1871), 84; Edward J. Gallagher, Founder of the Washington Post: A Biography of Stilson
Hutchins 1838-1912 (Laconia: Citizen Publishing Company, 1965), 7.
36 Bannning • Winter 1 999
'"William H. Taft, Missouri Newspapers (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1964).
39C.B. Wilkinson published a daily Republican newspaper called the Herald And became MPA
president in 1871. He later moved to Colorado, published the Denver Republican and became a
prominent member of the Colorado Press Association. Moore, Historical Notes on Printers and
Printing 1420 To 1886, 255; Barrett, History and Transactions, 4, 43; Rowell, American Newspaper
Directory: 1871, 83.
40C.B. Wilkinson, "May 24, 1868 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 16.
4lIbid.
42Colman was experienced in the traditional professions. In addition to being licensed to teach and
practice law, he had also attended a seminary. He published Colman's Rural World, was a University of
Missouri curator, and ran for lieutenant governor in 1868. He would eventually become the first
United States Secretary of Agriculture. His journal is still published today under the title The Missouri
Ruralist. Barrett, History and Transactions, 17, 7; Jonas Viles, The University of Missouri: A Centennial
History 1839-1939 (E.W Stephens Company: Columbia, 1939), 164; Frank F. Stephens, The History
of the University of Missouri (University of Missouri Press: Columbia, 1962), 262, 267-68; Shoe-
maker, Missouri and Missourians, 991; Walter Bickford Davis and Daniel Durrie, An Illustrated History
of Missouri Comprising Its Early Record, and Civil, Political and Military History (St. Louis: A.J. Hall
and Company 1876), 490-91.
43Norman J. Colman, "May 19, 1869 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 23. Historians spell Colman's name "Colman" at times. In fact, it is spelled both ways
in various parts of the MPA minutes. It is possible that Colman preferred the shorter version for his
newspaper Colman's Rural World.
"Ibid., 22.
'''Marmaduke studied in Europe, at Harvard and Yale, and was known as a scholar. His father was
a governor of Missouri and his father-in-law a doctor. Marmaduke himself became governor in 1885.
W.L. Webb, Battles and Biographies of Missourians Or The Civil War Period of Our State (Kansas City:
Hudson-Kimberly Publishing Company, 1903), 311; Shoemaker, Missouri and Missourians, Vol. 2:
96, 106.
■"John Marmaduke, "May 27, 1872 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 73-
47Ibid.
48Milo Blair ran a small newspaper with a circulation of 960. Geo. P. Rowell, American Newspaper
Directory: 1873 (New york: Geo. P. Rowell & Co., 1873), 120, 126.
49Milo Blair, "May 20, 1874 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transac-
tions, 86-87.
50Mark DeMotte ran a small newspaper with a circulation of about 1,000. Rowell, American
Newspaper Directory: 1873, 123.
51Mark DeMotte, "May 26, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 99.
52Ibid.
"William Switzler was active both in the MPA and in politics. His newspaper was known as a
major Whig voice in the state. John Vollmer Mering, The Whig Party in Missouri (Columbia:
University of Missouri Press, 1967), 103; Shoemaker, Missouri and Missourians, Vol. 1,990-91;
Barrett, History and Transactions, 1 9, 65, 90.
"William Switzler, "June 6, 1876 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 131-33-
"Banning, "Unearthing the Origin of Journalistic Professionalization in the Mid-Nineteenth
Century," 76-99.
"Victor E. Bluedorn, Sigma Delta Chi Manual (no publisher or publication location listed, 1959),
7.
57William Meharry Glenn, The Sigma Delta Chi Story: 1909-1949 (Coral Gables: Glade House,
1949), 22.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 37
58Bert Bostrom, Talent, Truth and Energy: Society of Professional Journalists Sigma Delta Chi
(Chicago: Society of Professional Journalists, 1984), 177.
"Paul Alfred Pratce, Gods Within the Machine: A History of the American Society of Newspaper
Editors, 1923-1993 (Connecticut: Praeger, 1995), 205-7; Alice Fox Pins, Read All About It: 50 Years
ofASNE, (American Society of Newspaper Editors, 1974), 359-61.
60Wilkinson, "May 24, 1868 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 13-
"Ibid.
"Ibid.
"Ibid.
"Ibid.
s5Colman, "May 19, 1869 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
22.
66This concept of progress through truth was popularized in the mid-nl9th century by John Stuart
Mill's essay On Liberty (1859). Mill wrote that public criticism was vital and restraining the press was
tyranny, as he saw truth as a necessary condition in a democracy. G.L. Williams, John Stuart Mill on
Politics and Society (New York: International Publications Service, 1976), 35-41; R.J. Halliday, John
Stuart Mill (New York: Barnes & Noble, 1 976) ,117.
S7Colman, "May 19, 1869 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
23.
68Barrett, History and Transactions, 7; Thomas E. Garrett, "The Giants," in History and Transactions,
30.
"Garrett, "The Giants," in History and Transactions, 30.
70P.G. Ferguson, "The Press," in History and Transactions, 59.
71J.C. Moore had a diverse career, serving in the Confederate Army as a Colonel under fellow MPA
member Major -General John Marmaduke. By the time Moore joined the MPA, he had been
licensed to practice law, had served in the Colorado legislature, was the first mayor of Denver, had
worked at the St. Louis Times and had co-founded the Kansas City Times. Webb, Battles and
Biographies of Missourians, 362; Gallagher, The Founder of the Washington Post, 6 1 .
72J.C. Moore, "May 24, 1871 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 48.
73Edwards was coeditor of the Kansas City Times along with fellow MPA member J. C. Moore
(Moore and Charles Dougherty had started the Times four years earlier). Edwards was active in the
MPA, attending the MPA charter formation in 1868, as part of a nominating committee in 1869 and
as MPA Secretary in 1870. He would become known as one of Missouri's outstanding authors. Geo
P. Rowell, The Men Who Advertise (New York: Nelson Chesman, 1 870), 68 1 ; Webb, Battles and
Biographies of Missourians, 363; Rowell, American Newspaper Directory: 1871, 81; Barrett, History and
Transactions, 18, 42; Walter Williams, The State of Missouri (Columbia: E.W. Stephens Press, 1904),
220.
74J.N. Edwards, "The Press," in History and Transactions, 63.
75John S. Marmaduke, "May 27, 1873 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 73.
76Blair, "May 20, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions, 99.
^Switzler, "June 6, 1876 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
128.
78Ibid., 133.
7,Dicken-Garcia, Journalistic Standards in Nineteenth Century America, 175; Michael Schudson,
Discovering the News: A Social History of American Newspapers (New York: Basic Books Inc,
Publishers, 1978), 65-
80Wilkinson, "M;>y24, 1868 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 8.
81Ibid., 10.
82Ibid., 13-14.
38 Banning • Winter 1999
"Moore, "May 24, 1871 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
48.
84Blair, "May 20, 1874 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions, 85-
85DeMotte, "May 26, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transac-
tions, 101.
"'Ibid.
87Ibid.
88Swirzler, "June 6, 1876 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
126.
8,DeMotte, "May 26, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transac-
tions, 101.
'°Ibid., 128.
"Ibid., 133.
"H.C. McDougal, "A Decade In Missouri Politics 1860 To 1870," 8 March 1904, Manuscript,
The State Historical Society of Missouri, 13.
"Wilkinson, "May 24, 1868 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 9.
,4Colman, "May 19, 1869 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
21.
95Moore, "May 24, 1871 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
48.
"Ibid., 50.
57Marmaduke, "May 27, 1873 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and
Transactions, 71.
98Ibid., 72.
"Blair, "May 20, 1 874 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions, 86.
l00DeMotte, "May 26, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transac-
tions," 93-
""Ibid., 99.
,02F.A. Jones, "June 6, 1876 Missouri Press Association Miscellaneous Business," in History and
Transactions, 116.
l03Switzler, "June 6, 1 876 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
123.
""Ibid., 125.
,05Ibid.
l06Ferguson, "The Press," in History and Transactions, 56-57.
107Ibid., 58.
,08Wilkinson, "The Editor," in History and Transactions, 50.
,09Blair, "May 20, 1874 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transactions,
85.
1,0Ibid., 104.
'"DeMotte, "May 26, 1875 Annual Missouri Press Association Address," in History and Transac-
tions, 102.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 39
40
Winter 1999
From Populist to Patrician: Edward
H. Butler s Buffalo News and the
Crisis of Labor, 1877-1892
By Michael J. Dillon
Edward H. Butler founded the Buffalo Sunday Morning News in
1873 for two reasons: To fight the entrenched interests that controlled the city's
politics, economics and journalism, and to fulfill his dream of becoming a
respected and wealthy newspaper publisher. He succeeded at both. In time,
however, the twin forces that converged to shape his identity and fuel his rise to
fame and influence — civic idealism and hardheaded entrepreneurship —
diverged.
Butler brought a new journalism to Buffalo — independent, populist,
defiant, modern. But the success that journalism wrought served to make his
life and interests remote from the very people he championed. Within two
decades, Butler was transformed from friend ofworkingmen to foe of labor and
labor unions. This paper explores the responses of Butlers Buffalo News to the
great labor disturbances of 1877 and 1892 and shows how the passionate
reformist editor who championed labor during the first strike grew into a
wealthy and established member of the elite who denounced labor and called
for its defeat by arms during the second.
T
he "new journalism" of the post-Civil War period left two
important legacies. With its crusading fervor, political
independence, and fact-based (if sensational) style of inquiry
Michael J. Dillon is an Assistant Professor at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Winter 1999 " American Journalism 41
into human affairs, the new journalism established an unprecedented
social influence for journalism. Its very success as a force of social change
and advocacy, however, also launched it towards unprecedented profits
and economic influence. At some point, it was inevitable that crusading
journalists would cease to crusade against a system that benefited them so
handsomely. '
The period of new journalism left the institution of journalism with
a conundrum: Is journalism primarily an engine of democracy or of
commerce? For the historian, the question is more complex: Why did the
economic legacy of the newspaper press grow so powerful while its
crusading legacy dimmed as the 20th century dawned?
Edward H. Butler, who founded the Buffalo Sunday Morning News
in 1873 and took it daily in 1880, was one of a generation of mavericks
who created the new journalism. In the years after the Civil War, men like
Butler, Joseph Pulitzer, Melville Stone, and E.W Scripps melded the
idealistic spirit of earlier papers like Horace Greeley's New York Tribune
and the sensational methods of the ante bellum penny press to carve out a
vital new role in civic life for newspapers.
Cheap, broad and accessible, the new journalism was predicated on
political independence and civic leadership. By bringing readers up-to-
date news heretofore neglected by the party press, and by advocating on
behalf of those on the margins of power, the new journalists built huge
and loyal readerships — and accumulated substantial political and eco-
nomic capital.
Rejecting partisan support, the commercially-driven new journalism
found far wealthier sponsors in free-spending advertisers who wished to
reach the papers' vast audiences. Independent, commercial newspapers
like the New York World and the Buffalo News became formidable enter-
prises in their cities.2
The conflict between the democratic impulses and the economic
bounty inherent in the new journalism was played out dramatically in the
career of Butler, whose evolution as a journalist and entrepreneur offers a
troubling case study of how the wealth and power the new journalism
created eventually undermined new democratic possibilities for journalism.
This article examines a facet of Butler's career that illuminates the
social and economic conflicts embedded in the age of new journalism:
Butler's relationship with Buffalo's workers, which changed drastically as
his newspaper brought him ever greater success and wealth.
Specifically, the article explores the response of Butler and his News
to two of the great labor conflicts of the Gilded Age — the rail strike of
42 Dillon -Winter 1999
1877 during which Butler vociferously defended laborers and encouraged
them to exercise their political will against capitalists and the state; and
the Great Strike of 1892, during which Butler denounced newly orga-
nized workers and called for the state to break the strike.3
Newspapers Promoted Partisanship
When Butler established the Sunday Morning News in 1873, he
found a newspaper field crowded with political and commercial journals
that catered to a small elite. Papers like the Democratic Courier and its
partisan rival The Republic narrowly defined news as the official acts of
politicians and the political opinions of editors.4
Because of their narrow focus and limited appeal to those outside
the partisan loop, the combined circulation of the city's commercial and
partisan papers in 1875 barely exceeded 10,000 in a city of 131,000
people.5 Butler aimed his new sheet at those ignored by partisan politics.
Within two years, he had 1 2,000 readers — more than all his rivals
combined.6
The News grew by attacking political and economic elites on behalf
of Buffalo's ordinary citizens — shopkeepers, fledgling entrepreneurs, and
workingmen. In his first editorials, Butler denounced the political
"rings" — as he and other reformers referred to the parties — and the
newspapers that supported them.
The paper boasted it was "The Firm Friend and Acknowledged
Organ of the People"7 that "Dares Call a Liar a Liar and a Villain a
Villain."8 It described its principles thus: "We desire to see ring rule
destroyed, we desire to see honest men elected by the people, and held
responsible to them and not to a party or clique of men."9 The paper was
also cheap. The Sunday Morning News cost 5 cents, but did not require a
subscription, and the daily sheet, which debuted in 1880, cost but a
penny; both were hawked aggressively in the street.
The News condemned its partisan rivals as "low scums" who cared
only for personal or political gain and who "pandered to obsolete ideas."10
The News warned that "until new ideas are infused, until a more progres-
sive race springs up from the ashes of old fogeyism, Buffalo must be far
behind many of its sister cities."11
Creates a Political Constituency
To that end, the News exposed and denounced municipal graft. In
1875, it successfully stitched together a bi-partisan "People's Ticket" that
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 43
prevented either political party from dominating civic affairs. The cam-
paign blended the papers' economic and political power as the News recast
its 10,000 paying readers as "10,000 honest voters."12 News readers were
not a mere audience but a constituency.
From the its earliest days, a progressive social agenda guided the
paper. In 1874 the paper crusaded against the sale of diseased meat.13 In
1876, it exposed patent medicine frauds.14 In September of 1878 alone it
exposed the abysmal working conditions and wages of contract sewing
girls and crusaded for laws to protect Buffalo's citizens from adulterated
milk being sold in the city.15 In 1881 it mounted a crusade on behalf of
impoverished Polish immigrants that rivaled in intensity and literary merit
the crusades Joseph Pulitzer would become famous for with the New York
World, which he bought in 1883.16
As it built circulation and influence, the News courted, and advo-
cated for, workingmen. One of the paper's first regular features debuted in
1874. In the Labor Column, Butler implored workers "to come to the
front and show your power and independence."17
Butler used the Labor Column to guide workers in the acquisition
of political and economic power and frequently gave it over to labor
leaders. The inaugural Labor Column announced that, "The workingmen
have long needed an independent channel for their thoughts — one in
which all have an equal right to give expression to their views and one
which is perfectly unbiased."18
Butler's affinity for workingmen was not merely political; in many
respects he was one of them. The son of an itinerant preacher, as a boy
Butler was apprenticed as a printer's devil at the newspaper in rural
LeRoy, New York. Later, he was a reporter and editor on a series of
partisan newspapers in Pennsylvania's hardscrabble anthracite coal region.
As a fledgling publisher, Butler not only supplied most of the News
content, but shepherded the paper through the press and then personally
delivered it to Buffalo's suburbs.
Butler found both news and an eager audience among the ranks of
the workingmen. His transformation from populist to patrician can be
traced to his relationship with these workers over the course of 20 years —
from his days as a struggling entrepreneur to his ascendance to wealthy
master of capital and labor.
By 1 892, when the New York Publishers Association convened its
annual meeting in Buffalo, Butler was the dean of the city's publishers and
one of its wealthiest citizens. By the mid- 1890s the News was recording
monthly revenues of almost $50,000 and Butler was paying himself a
quarterly salary of more than $1 2,000. 19
44 Dillon •Winter 1999
Butler had originally boasted of his "manly independence"20 in
politics but two decades after founding his newspaper in opposition to
partisan politics and journalism he was not only personally convinced of
the soundness of Republican policies, but a figure of power within the
parry and served as a delegate to many conventions.21
So much had changed. Butler had come to Buffalo to challenge its
political rings and offer a new style of journalism as a moral beacon for
the community. In his keynote address to colleagues from around the
state, however, Publishers Association President Edward H. Butler would
offer a new and very different vision for his profession.
Publishing Newspapers for Profit
At the dais, Butler mocked those who wasted time talking of the
"loftier mission" of the press — namely moral, political and social leader-
ship.22 He congratulated his peers for coming "to the understanding that
the publishing of a newspaper is a business as well as conducting a dry
goods store, a grocery or a railroad, and like those enterprises a business
conducted mainly for profit."23
When Butler had declared independence from partisanship nearly 20
years earlier, he did so because he envisioned a nobler mission for the press:
The press of the land, the mouthpiece of the nation, should
be untrammeled by party subserviency; it should be free to
denounce corruption, to expose dishonest schemes, and warn
the people at the first tocsin of alarm. If it does so, it
accomplishes its mission, failing to do so it is a timeserver,
and its mission is one of evil instead of good to the masses.24
Now, however, the pursuit of profit — and the maintenance of a
civic order designed to protect it — appeared to be Butler's guiding, and
perhaps only, principle. He told the assembled:
I don't wish our members to regard this address as all on
the money side of it, but when you come right down to the
foundation, it is pretty nearly what you are publishing
newspapers for. 'Money,' said the elder Bennett, 'is the root
of all evil, but give me the root.'25
As Edward H. Butler's social and economic status had changed, his
relationships with Buffalo's constituencies also naturally changed and
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 45
none underwent a more radical change than his relationship with the
workingmen he had originally championed. Uncomfortably for Butler,
that relationship reached a crisis at the very moment he entertained his
peers and touted the virtues of Buffalo.
The publishers who visited Buffalo that summer were treated to
concerts, tours of the city and a visit to Niagara Falls. In a daily box
headlined "A Few Cold Facts About Buffalo," the News boasted about the
33 rail lines that entered the city, its booming population, which was
approaching 300,000, and its 2,500 factories. Spread out along the
Niagara River and the shores of Lake Erie, the city was a center for lake
and rail traffic.26 Things could not have looked brighter.
But everywhere that summer, labor warfare threatened the social
order that made such industrial growth possible. Each day of the conven-
tion, stories that detailed the publishers' doings ran side by side with
ominous reports of violent clashes between capital and labor in Home-
stead, Cleveland, Detroit, Spokane, and Coeur d'Alene, Idaho.
The labor trouble that haunted Buffalo that summer was hardly the
work of radicals. The unrest originated at the Homestead Steel Plant
outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. In an attempt to destroy the nascent
American Labor Federation, Henry Frick, general manager of the Carnegie
Steel Company, had summarily announced that wages at the plant would
be cut, and that the company would begin to hire non-union men. These
moves were deliberately provocative, designed to force a fight with the
union before it got any stronger. "Frick had patiently tried to force the
workmen into opposition and he had succeeded."27 Even before his
announcement, Frick had Pinkerton guards at the ready to put down the
protest he was hoping to provoke.28
Frick's scheme was ill-considered. The Homestead workers initially
routed the Pinkertons at Homestead in one of the bloodiest labor clashes
in US history, prompting Pennsylvania's governor to send in the National
Guard and igniting strikes that spread along the rail lines that connected
these plants in a vast industrial grid.
Butler Opposed Labor in 1892
Butler feared that the strikes roaring through other cities would
soon reach Buffalo. When they did, he wanted the city's business and
political leaders to be prepared.
On July 13, 1892, in the midst of the Homestead Steel clash, a
Buffalo News editorial applauded the decision of Pennsylvania Governor
AG Dillon 'Winter 1999
William Pattison to call in the state militia to break the strike.29 The News
warned that Buffalo's leaders should not hesitate to demand similar
military protection:
The business men of Buffalo who have property to lose
know how to appreciate the respect in which the National
Guard is held in this and other States. They know what
inspires that respect ... It is because our State regiments are
composed of manly, courageous, well-disciplined men that
they inspire respect when they are called out to prevent
disorder as well as quell it.30
While the editorial held out hope that the violence would not engulf
Buffalo, it asserted that should it come, "the National Guardsmen are our
best protection against riot and destruction of property."31
Butler looked to the past for assurances that Buffalo's future, and the
hegemony of its leaders, would not be harmed by rebellious workers.
"Not a great many years ago — only 1 5," the editorial said, "Buffalo had to
be protected by the National Guard during the great railroad strikes, and
the soldiers did their work gallantly and well. Their presence at the point
of disturbance prevented a serious outbreak, and prevention is always
better in such cases than cure."32
Butler's history lesson was nothing short of astonishing. Fifteen years
earlier, he had offered a far different vision of the place of workingmen in
the city, and his newspaper had told a far different story of the militia's
role in quelling the strike. The difference between the views of the young,
struggling Edward H. Butler who was scorned in the 1870s by his
partisan rivals for his populist sympathies, and the older, prosperous
Butler who was being honored as a leader of the state and city press in
1892, reveals much about the evolution of the man, his newspapers, and
the city.
The militia had become embroiled in the great strike of 1 877, that
much was true. But little else of the lesson Butler drew from the strike
corresponded with stories and editorials he had published then. The 1877
strike had also begun in the Southern Alleghenies, in West Virginia, where
rail crews abandoned their trains over a wage decrease and refused to let
trains manned by replacement workers leave the yards.33 The strike
quickly spread up the Erie Road, reaching Buffalo in early June. Butler's
Sunday Morning News declared, "Never before in the history of the city
did a public demonstration assume so suddenly such formidable propor-
tions, and so many ugly features."34
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 47
Butler Supported Strikers in 1 877
When the firemen and brakemen of the Buffalo and Erie Railroad
stopped working and began to halt all rail traffic into and out of the city,
state officials rushed to defeat them with force. Many city newspapers
applauded the decision to send the state militia to Buffalo, and urged
soldiers to deal with strikers decisively and brutally, to "shoot these men
down like beasts."35
The News, in contrast, defended the workers and condemned
military intervention. The paper asserted that the rail workers had every
right to strike in the face of an unfair wage reduction, and castigated the
governor for allowing railroad management "to call upon the military to
settle a business question."36
The News charged that rather than considering the particulars of the
Buffalo situation, the governor had acted out of panic and fear because of
a violent rail strike in Baltimore that preceded, and likely helped spark,
the Buffalo strike:
Were it not for the strike following so immediately in the
wake of the Baltimore and Ohio horrors, it would have
occasioned but little excitement, and the local public would
have remained little more than mere spectators of a struggle be-
tween a railroad company and its employees.37
Worse than the decision to call in the troops was their conduct once they
arrived in the city. The soldiers, the newspaper reported, were ill-trained,
undisciplined and poorly commanded.
Indeed, the Sunday Morning News laid the blame for the violence on
the military:
The military, in fact, created the mobs which the Buffalo
police and specials had to step in and disperse. In every
collision of the military with the mobs, the former were
beaten . . . even the worst rioters seemed to respect the
police,while the soldiers were looked upon as men of blood
and war [and] made the mobs more active and violent.
Twenty policemen armed with clubs and civil authority were
more effective in every conflict than a hundred soldiers armed
with loaded muskets and bayonets.39
48 Dillon -Winter 1999
The News coverage of the strike overwhelmingly favored the
workers. Even when the paper found proof of violence against the police,
the military, or the city itself, it ascribed such violence to "not a few
roughs and tramps" who took advantage of a peaceful strike to cause
trouble and settle scores. The newspaper concluded:
The Erie men were temperate and not to be found among
the gangs marauding about the city; and yet with all this
expression of sentiment favorable to the strike, not one
official act was performed to acknowledge the distinction
between the rioters and the strikers.39
In an editorial that accompanied the news stories about the 1877 strike,
Butler strongly supported the workers' right to strike, but urged them to
refrain from violence:
Even the most impracticable idealist — and the ranks of the
insurgents are full of such — must acknowledge that there is
small chance of improvement in the condition of unemploy-
ment growing out of the destruction of the employer. It is hardly
probable that a mill owner will be induced to add to the wages
of his employers simply from the fact that the latter have
burned his mill.40
Labor Column Moves to Page One
While Butler chastised workers as a friend might, he had nothing
but harsh words for the railroad companies — and for government officials
and newspapers that aided in their subjugation of workers. His comments
ranged far beyond the particulars of the strike itself; instead, he articulated
his core principles on the issues of capital, labor and the role of the state
in disputes between the two — these were the principles that Butler would
so vehemently reject 15 years later.
In the same editorial, which appeared on July 29, 1877, Butler
pointed out that the coverage of the strike in Buffalo's other newspapers
had been grossly biased and incomplete, merely trumpeting and applaud-
ing the pronouncements of political and industrial leaders out to rout the
strikers. The News scolded that, "There is another side to this question
that has been completely ignored in the press, which is this: Is the Balti-
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 49
more and Ohio Railroad corporation entirely blameless? Is it not equally
to blame for bringing this terrible condition of affairs?"41
In fact, the editorial concluded, the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad
bore most of the blame. Butler documented its enormous expansion and
profits and showed how it was taking advantage of a stagnant labor
market to exploit workers with "starve to death wages."42 Worse, the
B&O was "evading moral responsibility" for its actions.43
And, on top of tremendous economic advantages over its rag-tag
labor force, the B&O was backed up by the political and military re-
sources of the state: ". . . the way seems hedged up so that the one side
cannot even get a hearing so powerful has the other side become through
unprincipled legislators, and so oppressive are its inclinations."44 Under
the circumstances, the Sunday Morning News concluded, workers were
almost being forced to seek justice through violent means.
If anything good might come of the strike, the News concluded, it
was that, "when a strike or movement to maintain or secure wages occurs
in the future, the Railroad companies will feel more disposed to compro-
mise the difficulties than ever before."45
In the aftermath of the 1877 strike, Butler expanded the Labor
Column and moved it temporarily to the front page. Butler proposed to
workingmen that they "might hold the balance of power" nationally and
in Buffalo.46 In an elegant and passionate summation of the workingmans
plight, the News declared:
The workingmen of today are men who think. They have
cause to think. They are out of work and they wonder why
it is. They cannot get bread for themselves and their families
and wonder why that is. They helped elect men to office who
promised to legislate better times and they wonder why better
times do not come. Their little property has been eaten up by
living and taxes, they themselves are on the verge of starvation
and it is no wonder that they wonder why it is so.47
Butler applauded the men for striking, but cautioned that seeking
short-term pay increases without a larger agenda would not advance
their cause. They should also "strike at the ballot box," and "shake both
parties."48 Only when they ran candidates and held power for them-
selves would workingmen have the necessary leverage to fight the big
corporations.
50 Dillon -Winter 1999
Butler Adopts Patrician Habits
Unsettled disputes between workers and the steel and rail oligopolies
lingered. And when, 15 years later, in 1892, another outbreak of fierce
strikes brought strife and violence to Buffalo, the workers found no
champion in Edward H. Butler. Unlike the young publisher who had
broken bread with his pressmen and helped deliver bundles of the freshly-
printed news to distant precincts, the older Butler had very little in
common with workingmen. By 1892, he was a man of substantial
property. A palatial new building for the News (complete with a private
Swedish bath for its owner) was in the works.
An admiring correspondent for the Cleveland Plain Dealer who
visited Butler in 1886 marveled at the publisher's style:
Just think of an editor with a telephone ready at hand, with
electric bells and speaking tubes at his desk, connecting with
every department of his flourishing business and then, not as
a romance do we write, coming to his office in a coupe and
wearing a sealskin coat.49
In addition to publishing Buffalo's wealthiest newspaper, Butler had
also become a director of the American Savings Bank and a member of
the Buffalo Club, Ellicott Park Club and Country Club in the city, as well
as a member of the Marchmont Club of New York, the Clover Club of
Philadelphia and the Capital City Club in Atlanta.50
The fate of his business was now inextricably tied, through politics,
commerce and society, to the vested interests he had once decried.51 And
so, when labor conflict descended upon Buffalo in 1892 Butler was in no
position economically, politically, or temperamentally to rally to the
workers. In the intervening years since the "Great Upheaval" of 1 877,
however, the power and wealth of organized labor had also grown. Union
members could now be found in great numbers in trades throughout the
city — including the mechanical departments of the News.
The labor unrest that had been smoldering all summer burst into
flame on August 14 when striking switchmen — according to the News52 —
set more than 50 freight cars ablaze just outside the city limits.53 While
the switchmen appealed to other rail workers to strike in sympathy, the
Lehigh and Erie and Buffalo Creek railroads began transporting replace-
ment workers to the city. The News devoted little coverage to the strikers'
demand for a 10 hour day, a demand the rail company had earlier acceded
to and then reneged on; instead, the newspaper denounced the strikers.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 51
An editorial on August 16, 1892 declared, "Every man in this
country has a right to work for whom he pleases. He has a right to quit
when the work or the pay is unsatisfactory. He has no right to seize his
employer's property, nor has a body of men more right than one."54
At the same time, under the huge headline "RIOTING," the
newspaper expressed sympathy for the rail companies, the replacement
workers and displaced passengers. It condemned the strikers as "lawless."55
The strike, it reported, had "grown from a mere formal demand for
increased pay and shorter hours into a reign of terror and perpetration of
acts and unbounded lawlessness and incendiarism."56 An accompanying
editorial called the strike a "Bad Business," and demanded that strikers be
punished.57
There can be but one judgement on the events of yesterday and
Saturday night in the Lehigh Yards at East Buffalo. The burning of
railroad property, the derailing of trains, the assaults on workmen
are a CRIME.58
The editorial called upon union officials to prevent damage at the
railyards. If they did not, it warned, "There is sufficient force in Buffalo to
deal with it effectively."59
By far the most dramatic illustration of Butler's turnaround came on
August 16 when the News called for the state militia to be sent to Buffalo.
The militia was soon dispatched, and as troop trains speeded towards
Buffalo,60 Butler published an editorial entitled "For Workingmen to
Think Of."61 Unlike his fiery defense of downtrodden workers in 1877,
this message to laboring men was stern and unsympathetic. "Do the
workmen of this country realize that there is such a thing as killing the
goose that lays the golden egg?" he asked. Speaking from experience, he
explained that, "It is much easier to pull down than build up business
prosperity."62
Rather than blame the railroads for their economic plight and poor
working conditions at the yards, the editorial explained lamely that the
men should resign themselves to "business cycles" of boom and bust that
governed economic events. Another editorial condemned sympathy
strikes, arguing that workers not involved in the strike should show
devotion to their own employers, not their fellow workers.63
By Thursday, August 1 7, the strike had spread to other rail yards.
While a headline declared that "ANARCHY!" reigned in Tennessee,64 the
entire New York National Guard — 13,000 strong — arrived in Buffalo to
52 Dillon 'Winter 1999
break the strike.65 As the strike wore on, the News' headlines grew bigger
and more shrill. News reporters encamped with soldiers and traveled to
points of conflict on a chartered rail car provided to the press by the
railroad.66
Butler Supports Use of Force
Soon it was revealed that James Doyle, the National Guard general
in charge of the troops, was also a high official of the Lehigh Valley-Erie
Railroad.67 Butler, who 1 5 years earlier had decried the fact that the power
of the state unfairly backed the railroads, weakly explained that the
general's status as an officer of the railroad was not a conflict of interest.
In response to scathing condemnations of Doyle and the railroad by
the New York Sun, the New York Herald, and the New York Telegram, Butler
editorialized that such criticism was "ill-considered. The Telegram seems to
forget that so far as the public are concerned there is but one side in this
battle. The soldiers are fighting disturbers of peace and property, that is all.
The contestant' whose orders General Doyle is obeying is the state of New
York,"68 and not the railroad. The editorial noted that, "the newspapers are
cooperating with the National Guard in repressing disorder."69
The strike sputtered on, but the appearance of the soldiers got trains
moving again, ensured protection for replacement workers and effectively
disarmed the union, which then unsuccessfully tried to make a deal with
the railroads. On August 25, Grandmaster Frank Sweeney declared the
strike over.70 In an editorial, the News crowed that, "all in all it was a good
day for news, and a good day for readers of the News."71
In fact, the strike was doomed when other unions refused Sweeney's
pleas to walk out.72 Eugene Debs drew this lesson from the Buffalo strike:
"Bayonets and bullets, scabs and capitalists won a victory, rode roughshod
over a principle [labor unity] which must eventually triumph or labor's
emancipation will never come." Ironically, Debs' words echoed Butler's
judgment on the 1877 strike.
Butler had written in 1 877 that the lesson of the Great Strike was
that workingmen oppressed by huge corporations and legislative toadies
had a right to strike and should join together to seize political power. He
drew for his readers a far different lesson from the 1 892 strike:
Some hasty observers of the trouble at East Buffalo have
jumped at the conclusion, because it is a big thing, that it
is the beginning of a life and death struggle between capital
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 53
and labor. It is not a struggle between capital and labor at all,
but between anarchy and law.73
"Here is the lesson of the strike," the News concluded. "The militia is the
one and sole dependence of our citizens for protection from riot and
destruction to property."74
The strikes of 1877 and 1892 shared many similarities — especially
as they played out in Buffalo. Buffalo was not the epicenter of either
strike; compared to many other cities it escaped serious damage or
violence. A logical question one might pose regarding Butler's reaction to
the two strikes is: Did he side against workers in 1 892 because that
strike's impact on Buffalo was greater, its violence more widespread, the
strikers more "lawless"; or because he had become a member of the elite
with corporate, personal and ideological interests at stake?
By most criteria, the 1 877 strike had a greater impact on Buffalo than
the 1892 strike and therefore posed a greater threat to order. The 1877
conflict, "The Great Upheaval," was more strident in its challenge to the
power of capital by virtue of coming first and was viewed by many as
"violent rebellion."75 In fact, the armories that were at the National Guard's
disposal in 1892 had been built precisely because of the strike of 1877.76
Challenge to the Moneyed Class
According to labor historian Joseph Rayback, "The railway strike
thoroughly shocked a large portion of the public. Not since slaveholders
had ceased to be haunted by dreams of a slave uprising had propertied
elements been so terrified."77
The impact of the strike of 1 877 was also more far-reaching in
Buffalo and other cities because what began as a railroad strike quickly
became a general strike. In Buffalo, workers walked off the job at planing
mills, tanneries, bolt and nut factories, hogyards and the canal works.78
Although the workers did not gain all they wanted, they did show they
had the power to paralyze the city's industries.
The strike of 1 892 had a narrower focus than the strike of 1 877.
Rail workers failed to convince their brethren in other industries to walk
off jobs; each union had its own agenda and they did not work together
in common cause. A leader of the Switchmen's Union complained bitterly
in the wake of the strike that "the brakemen and firemen played us
false."79
54 Dillon 'Winter 1999
The contradictions that ultimately broke Butler's bond with working
people arose from his growing wealth and influence. As his success as a
businessman and publisher transformed him into the head of a vast
enterprise, the city's and the nation's laborers were gaining voice and power.
Butler Became What He Despised
The workingmen whom Butler had championed in 1877 were
unorganized and, to Butler's mind, directionless. He had hoped to
channel the formidable power and talent among labor's ranks towards
goals he deemed worthy by giving labor a forum in his newspaper and
educating the workingmen on how to use it. But ultimately, the strike of
1 877 had given workingmen a sense of their power to set their own
agenda; in Rayback's words, the strike gave workers "a class consciousness
on a national scale."80
By 1 892, the labor movement, while still at a huge disadvantage,
had progressed. The American Federation of Labor was formed in 1886
and the Amalgamated Association of Iron, Steel, and Tin Workers, which
represented the ill-fated Homestead workers, had formed soon after that.81
These well-organized unions had strong leaders and big war chests.
The paradox that shaped Butler's destiny — fighting the powerful
while aspiring to be one of them — illustrates the inherent contradictions
that shaped modern journalism as it passed from partisan mouthpiece to
corporate institution. The very financial and political success of Butler's
populist philosophy inexorably pulled Butler into the city's elite.
As his wealth increased, his passion for attacking a system in which
he was rapidly ascending diminished. By the 1890s, Butler had forsaken
reform and political independence and embraced wealth and influence.
He became what he had originally despised — a conservative patrician
whose interests were unambiguously allied with those of Buffalo's elite.
That shift was most dramatically manifest in his relationship with the
workingmen he had once championed.
Endnotes
'Between 1870 and 1880, the number of newspapers in the United States nearly doubled, while
revenue increased nearly four-fold. In 1879, newspapers also reached their zenith in terms of earnings
relative to the earnings of all American industries. Jeffrey Rutenbeck, "Newspaper trends in the 1870s:
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 55
Proliferation, popularization, and political independence," Journalism and Mass Communication
Quarterly, Summer, 1995, p. 362-69-
2 Newspapers, which were started for as little as $500 in capital before the Civil War, might require
close to $ 1 million in start-up capital by the 1 880s. Gerald Baldasty, The Commercialization of the
News in the Nineteenth Century (Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1992) p. 5
3Butler was not alone in undergoing this transformation. The newspapers of the Scripps brothers,
who were also key innovators of the "new journalism" - and whose Buffalo Telegraph was vanquished
by Butler in 1885 - also de- emphasized crusading as their circulations grew. Penny papers like the
Buffalo News and Scripps' Detroit Evening News built their circulations by appealing to the working
classes. But as profits grew and competition declined, the content of these papers catered less to the
working class and adopted a more neutral stance towards politics and social issues - a reflection of the
fact that their readerships had become more diverse. Richard Kaplan, "The Economics of Popular
Journalism in the Gilded Age: The Detroit Evening News in 1873 and 1888," Journalism History,
Summer 1995, pp. 65-74.
4By the end of the nineteenth century, partisan affiliation would be out of fashion at many
American newspapers, but in 1873, when Butler founded the News, this trend away from partisan
journalism was just beginning; thus, in Buffalo and elsewhere, partisan papers were in the majority.
For figures on partisan and independent papers in New York at century's end, see Baldasty and Jeffrey
B. Rutenbeck, "Money, Politics and Newspapers: The Business Environment of Press Partisanship in
the Late 19th Century," Journalism History, Summer/Autumn, 1988, pp. 60-69.
'Circulation figures are from a survey done by George P. Rowell and Company which was
commissioned by and published in the Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 13 June 1875.
6In addition to the Rowell & Co. survey, the News submitted an affidavit signed by Butler attesting
the paper had an average circulation of 10,000 by August, 1874, a mere eight months after its start-
up. Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 2 August 1874, p. 2.
'Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 2 October 1875, p. I.
"Ibid.
'Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 3 October 1874, p. 1.
'"Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 10 January 1875, p.l. October 1874, p.l.
"Ibid.
12Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 2
13"Sale of Tainted Meat," Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 25 January 1874, p. 1.
"After 1880, advertisements for "Burdick's Blood Bitters" became endemic in the News, but in
1876 "Dr." Andrews, who sold a potent — and probably alcohol-based — remedy for dyspepsia, was
exposed and hounded from the city. "'Dr.' Andrews flees," Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 8
September 1876, p. 1.
""Peddlers of Bad Milk," Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 8 September 1876, p.l.; "The Poor
Sewing Girls," 12 September 1876, p.l.
16"Anatomy of a Crusade: The Buffalo News' Pioneering Fight for the Polish Immigrants, 1881."
Unpublished manuscript.
"Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 1 October 1874, p. 1.
''Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 10 May 1874, p. 2.
"Financial records from the News before 1895 are sketchy and incomplete; the salary figure comes
from a 1895 trial balance. According to a 1909 trial balance, Butler's recorded salary was $130,000
annually.
20Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 7 December 1873, p.l.
21Butler served the party twice as a member of the Electoral College; in 1900 he was named the
chairman of the board of electors. Information about Butler's political activities can be found in
numerous papers and letters, as well as his obituary, "Edward Butler dies following operation,"
Buffalo News, 10 March 1914.
22Butler speech to New York Publisher's Association, 13 July 1892, Butler papers at SUCB.
"Ibid.
""Our Mammoth Sheet" (editorial), Buffalo Sunday Morning News, 10 March 1874, p. 2.
56 Dillon •Winter 1999
"Butler Speech to New York Publishers Association, 13 July 1892.
26"A Few Cold Facts About Buffalo," Evening News, 19 August 1 892, p. 2 (and many subsequent
editions).
27Samuel Yellen, American Labor Struggles (New York: S.A. Russel) p. 81.
28Ibid.
""An Argument That Comes Home," Evening News, 13 July 1892, p. 2.
30Ibid.
"Ibid.
32Ibid.
"Jeremy Brecker, Strike! (Boston: South End Press, 1972) p. 1.
34"The Great Strike," Sunday Morning News, 29 July 1877, p. 1.
35"Murderous Purposes," Sunday Morning News, 29 July 1877, p. 1.
36"A Review of the Strike," Sunday Morning News, 29 July 1877, p. 1. (editorial)
37Ibid.
3!"Buffalo Policemen," Sunday Morning News, 29 July 1877, p. 1.
3,Ibid.
40"A Review of the Strike," Sunday Morning News, 29 July 1877, p 1.
4lIbid.
"Ibid.
43Ibid.
"Ibid.
45Ibid.
46" Workingmen: The Class that Might Hold the Balance of Power," Sunday Morning News, 2
September 1877, p. 1.
47Ibid.
48Ibid.
4,"E.H. Butler of the Buffalo News," Cleveland Plain Dealer, 6 March 1886. p.3.
50"E.H. Butler Dies After Operation . . ." Buffalo Courier, 10 March 1914, p. 1.
"In addition to political or editorial posts, Butler was a member of the board of the Grosvenor
Library, originator and president of group charged with erecting a monument to slain president
William McKinley, a director of the American Savings Bank, and a member of the board of trustees of
the State Normal School at Buffalo. Municipality of Buffalo, p. 332.
52Unlike in the 1 877 strike, when Butler scolded other newspapers for not investigating who
actually instigated violence and blaming every incident on strikers, the News in 1892 was content to
assume that any incidents must be the work of strikers.
53"More Fires!" Evening News, 15 August 1892, p. 1.
54"For Workingmen to Think Of," Buffalo Evening News, 16 August 1892, p.2.
55"RIOTING! The Switchman's Strike Becomes Serious," Evening News, 15 August 1892, p. 1.
56Ibid.
57"Bad Business," Evening News, 15 August 1892, p. 2.
58Ibid.
"Ibid.
60"Bad Business," 15 August 1892, p. 2.
61"For Workingmen to Think Of," Evening News, 16 August 1892, p. 2.
"Ibid.
"Ibid.
""ANARCHY! Troops Surrender to the Mob at Oliver Springs, Tenn.," Evening News, 17 August
1892, p. 1.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 57
""STRIKE SPREADING: All Troops in the State Sent," Evening News, 18 August 1892, p. 1 .
""UNDERARMS!" Evening News, 16 August 1892, p. 1.
67When Militia General Doyle's blatant conflict of interest was pointed out by strikers and their
supporters, the News supported his right to fill both roles. "PERSECUTED: General Doyle Says
They're After Him and He Doesn't Like It," Evening News, 1 9 August p. 1 .
""Attacking General Doyle," (editorial) Evening News, 19 August p. 2.
"Ibid.
70"The Strike is Ended," Buffalo News, 25 August p. 1.
7l"The First, As Usual," Buffalo News, 25 August p. 2.
72This was a position heartily endorsed by the News, which lectured potential sympathy strikers in
an editorial that other rail workers should rally to the aid of their "natural partners," — their
employers at the railroad. "Friends and Enemies," Buffalo News, 23 August, p. 2.
73"One Lesson of the "Strike," (editorial) Evening News, 26 August 1892, p. 1.
74Ibid.
75Brecker, Strike, p. 1 .
76Eric Foner, History of American Labor, v.7, N.Y.: International Publishers, 1955) p. 253-
^Joseph Rayback, A History of American Labor, (New York: The Free Press, 1966) p. 136.
78Brecker, Strike! p. 6
79The union council member was identified only by his last name, Barrett, in the story containing
his remarks. "The Strike is Ended," Buffalo News, p.l.
80Rayback,p.l36.
81Ibid, p. 159.
58 Dillon' Winter 1999
Power of the Press: How Newspapers
in Four Communities Erased
Thousands of Chinese from Oregon
History
By Herman B. Chiu
This article examines four Oregon newspapers' treatment of Chinese
workers during the 1870s and 1880s. The papers were in Jacksonville, John
Day, Baker City and Astoria which, according to census reports, had the states
largest Chinese populations. Results show the Chinese, who arrived as gold
miners and railroad workers and comprised as much as half the population of
some towns, were virtually excluded from the press. When they did make it
into the papers they were rarely named, portrayed as sub-human, and vilified.
Pronouns such as "yellow vermin" and "filthy rats" were not uncommon.
The papers that were examined shared one attribute — they shunned the
Chinese. Racism, inability to communicate, strange appearance, clannishness,
"strategic silence, "professional standards that were not well-developed, and
lack of newsroom diversification were some of the factors that could have
caused the appalling coverage — or lack of coverage — of this immigrant group.
\ C ~\ yT"ellow vermin," filthy rats," "moon-eyed nuisances" —
Y these were just a few of the names newspapers in
JL Oregon hurled at the Chinese during the 19th century.
But that was only when the papers bothered to acknowledge their
existence at all. Most of the time, the Chinese were ignored even though
Herman B. Chiu is the Lee Hills Doctoral Fellow at the University of Missouri, Columbia,
School of Journalism.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 59
they comprised nearly half of the population of some Oregon cities
during the 1870s and 1880s.
The Chinese came to the state seeking the fortunes that had attracted
countless others before them. These new pioneers faced many of the same
hardships as earlier settlers. There were crime and illness; there were cold
winters and occasional Indian attacks. In better days there were banquets,
social club meetings, days spent kite flying, New Year's activities. But
unlike those who crossed the continent along the Oregon Trail, the trials
and tribulations of the Chinese were almost never recorded so that today,
few records remain of who these immigrants were and what their lives
were like.
Chinese Exclusion from Written Records
The exclusion of the Chinese from written records reflected their
exclusion from society, and was especially evident in newspapers. In those
days one of the functions of these four-page publications, mostly weeklies,
was to serve as a social adhesive to keep readers informed about people
and events in their communities. Even a cursory review of early Oregon
papers would reveal hundreds of items about things such as the size of a
local farmer's strawberries or the latest citizen to visit the East Coast.
But the Chinese were virtually absent from the press. This was the
case in Astoria, a city in which they made up 47.2 percent of the popula-
tion; in Grant County, where they made up 41.6 percent of the popula-
tion; in Baker City, where they were 24.2 percent; and in Jacksonville,
where they were 18.5 percent. Perhaps most importantly, an entire group
was shut out of what contemporary journalists call the "marketplace of
ideas."
This article examines the roots of Chinese immigrants in four 19th
century communities and how they were covered by newspapers of the
time. Sample periods for each community were purposive and were
during years when census reports showed the largest Chinese popula-
tions. Approximately 100 issues of each paper were examined. Chinese
surnames were used because they are easily distinguishable and seldom
"Americanized."1
The Chinese Lured by Gold
Gold, historians agree, was what brought the first Chinese to
Oregon, just as it had lured them to the now-fabled California "gum san,"
60 Chiu- Winter 1999
or gold mountain in 1848. According to Robert Edward Wynne's history
of Chinese in the Pacific Northwest, the first Chinese arrived from
California shortly after gold was discovered in Southern Oregon's Rogue
and Umpqua valleys in 1852.2 Along with the Chinese miners came the
discrimination that was to plague them for generations.
"It is not surprising," writes Wynne, "that the latter should have
experienced the hostility of white miners in Oregon Territory. There were
many settlers from the southern states who brought with them feelings of
dislike for a colored man be he Negro or Chinese."3 Then, relates Wynne,
other ways were found to discourage the Chinese. In 1857, a $2 per
month mining tax was levied on them. The tax was doubled in 1858,
along with the imposition of a $4 per month tax on Chinese merchants.
Jackson and Josephine counties also required Chinese trading among
themselves to purchase a $50 per year license.
However, these measures did not dampen the lure of the gold
mountain. According to Wynne, by 1858 there were more than 1,000
Chinese in Josephine County.4 Laws restricting the Chinese differed with
the locality, according to Wynne. For example, they were permitted to
purchase mining claims at Wolf Creek. Likewise, Jackass Creek was what
author V. Blue in 1922 dubbed a "cosmopolitan area with many French
and Chinese miners."5 But at Humbug Creek, Chinese were prohibited
from buying— or even working— mining claims. Curiously, writes Wynne,
after Oregon became a state in 1859 its legislature levied a $5 poll tax on
the Chinese even though they were prohibited from voting.
Chinese miners also suffered at the hands — and boots — of their
white counterparts. According to Wynne, "An Army captain who traveled
through Oregon's mining regions in 1862 observed that the valleys
showed Chinese miners ' . . . moving from one mining locality to the
next, fleeing from the kicks of one to the cuffs of another, with no abiding
place.'"6
The curtain of discrimination lifted partially in 1864 when the
legislature repealed the anti-Chinese laws. But it immediately imposed a
$4 per quarter mining tax on the Chinese and banned them from giving
evidence or taking legal action against Caucasians. Wynne writes that the
pressure on the Chinese, at least in Southern Oregon, eased somewhat
after the late 1850s because much richer gold strikes were made on the
upper stretches of the Columbia River in Washington Territory and on
the Fraser River in Canada.
In 1861 and 1862 strikes were also made in Baker and Grant
counties in Northeast Oregon. Chinese miners, like whites, became
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 61
afflicted with the fever for a bigger pot of gold and headed north along
with droves of other fortune seekers. Many must have decided to stay in
Northeast Oregon.
The Tenth Census of the United States shows that in 1 870 a total of
940 Chinese lived in Grant County, mostly in the John Day - Canyon
City area, even though some probably prospected in outlying camps such
as Granite. In Baker County the population centered around Baker City.
A story from the Bedrock Democrat, the town's weekly paper at the time,
indicates a substantial number of Chinese also mined in Sumpter, now
mostly abandoned.
John Day and Baker City also hosted "Chinatowns." In John Day
this was a block-long section that included a store and worshiping temple.
Today, these are memorialized as the Kam Wah Chung State Historical
Park.
Few Traces Remain of the Chinese Population
Not much other evidence remains of the Chinese who played so
large a part in the economy of early Eastern Oregon. Most of them left:
with the depletion of the mines and the torrent of anti-Chinese feeling
that inundated the West in the mid- 1880s. Some may have moved to
other states — rich strikes also had been made in Idaho and Washington.
Others may have made their way to Portland, which for two decades had
served as a transit point for Chinese entering or leaving Oregon.
In just one month in 1868, for example, six ships arrived with 1,995
Chinese immigrants.7 There was protection in numbers, and later, with
the depletion of the mines, there were also alternative opportunities such
as railroad building. The Portland spur of the Central Pacific Railroad was
completed almost exclusively with Chinese labor, which caused the
Chinese population of The Dalles, Oregon, to soar to almost 1,200
briefly in the early 1880s. Chinese also helped lay tracks for the Oregon -
California line. Although the Portland area's Chinese population grew, it
never reached the proportions seen in Clatsop County (47.2 percent in
1880); Grant County (41.6 percent in 1870); or Baker County (24.2
percent in 1870).
Other Chinese, having made a small fortune-at least by 1 870s
standards-may have returned home. Census statistics show that between
1882 and 1890 a total of 1 17,286 Chinese left the United States. In those
years 80,106 Chinese arrived, for a net decrease of 37, 180. 8
62 Chiu* Winter 1999
Those who congregated in Portland may have found their way into
the salmon-canning industry, which reached its economic high-tide the
same time that mining began to decline. Most of the canneries used
contract laborers directly from San Francisco or Hong Kong. Port listings
in The Daily Astorian newspaper in 1876 and 1877 reveal arrivals from
Hong Kong or Shanghai, China, almost weekly, with some ships carrying
hundreds of Chinese. However, some contractors also recruited in
Portland.
In Oregon the largest salmon-processing city was Astoria, which
boasted of 14 canneries by 1880.9 Smaller concentrations of plants were
located at Westport, Portland, Rooster Rock, The Dalles and Florence.
Most of the 1,639 Chinese in Astoria's canneries lived in bunkhouses
behind waterfront processing plants. The town itself also supported
numerous Chinese entrepreneurs. These Chinese merchants included
restaurateurs, tailors, pawnbrokers, barbers, clothiers, gardeners and
laundrymen, according to Chris Fridays account of Asians in Astoria's
canneries.10 Later, a second group of plants, also with Chinese workers,
opened a mile inland.
Hours at the canneries were long, rewards meager. Friday writes that
pay for the Chinese-even those who had worked their way up to the most
important positions of butchering and can testing— was lower than the
$36 a month railroad workers earned. Meals were served in a common
mess hall, but contractors who did the hiring were responsible for supply-
ing provisions and hiring cooks. Protein frequently consisted only of
scraps from the production lines. To supplement their diets, it wasn't
uncommon for workers to cultivate vegetable gardens and catch shellfish
in their spare time. Often the gardens were operated by the contractor for
a profit.
A Wall of Racial Bias
Life in Astoria was undoubtedly better than at rural plants, where
conditions were more primitive. In Astoria, as in the rest of Oregon and
indeed, the nation, nearly 100 percent of the Chinese were male." Many
of those who arrived during the initial wave had planned to make a quick
fortune and return home to marry. Others, who already had families, came
to the United States in an attempt to better support them. All Chinese
were prohibited from entering the United States by the 1882 Exclusion
Act, so for those not already attached, life could be quite lonely.
The result was a Chinese population that, unable to regenerate,
plummeted until, by 1930, only 164 remained in Clatsop County, and
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 63
only 11 in Grant County. In Multnomah County, only 1,471 remained
out of a total population of 338,241.
The biggest restrictions on the Chinese, however, were not cultural.
For wherever they worked, whether in rural plants or in city canneries,
they faced a wall of racial bias. "The prejudice of European American
residents, added to the canners' placement of bunkhouses," writes Friday,
"severely restricted Chinese settlement patterns." Indeed, the editor of the
Weekly Astorian newspaper on May 23, 1879, wrote that "... we cannot
possibly colonize the Chinese in any one place in the city, but it should be
done if possible . . . . "12
Friday and newspapers of the period agree that anti-Chinese fervor
in Astoria and other Oregon communities was more muted than in the
Northwest in general. There was an Anti - Chinese Society in Astoria to
which many leading citizens belonged. But there was a marked absence of
violence. This may have been because even the most ardent chinophobes
realized that the town's canneries could not operate without the Chinese.
Thus, the Chinese in Astoria, as in other parts of the state, were viewed as
not much more than a necessary evil.
Hostility to the North and South
Sentiments were not so muffled among Oregon's neighbors, how-
ever. According to historian Elmer Clarence Sandmeyer, in California the
Chinese were prohibited from working, banned from living in incorpo-
rated cities and denied the rights to own land or vote along with "idiots,
insane persons and persons convicted of infamous crimes or of the
embezzlement of public money."13Then, about the same time as the
September 1885 attack in Rock Springs, Wyoming, where "more than a
score" of Chinese were killed, anti-Chinese riots took place in more than a
dozen California towns. 14
About 150 miles north of Astoria, opponents of the Chinese staged
riots in Tacoma, Squak Valley (now Issaquah), Black Diamond, Seattle
and a handful of other locales. The most extreme measures were seen
during 1885 and 1886 in Tacoma and Seattle, where the Chinese were
evicted from their homes and forced onto trains or ships out of the city.
In both cities, local newspapers printed a series of vitriolic anti - Chinese
editorials.15
It is against this backdrop that the stage is set for an examination of
the coverage four early Oregon newspapers gave to their local Chinese
populations. Findings show that the community papers in Grant County,
64 Chiu- Winter 1999
Baker City, Astoria and Jacksonville reflected the biases of white popula-
tions. On a few occasions, they even choreographed anti - Chinese
sentiment and activities.
Immigrants Were Anonymous
Newspaper coverage of the Chinese in frontier Oregon was skimpy, at
best. When it did occur these immigrants were anonymous, faceless, and
portrayed as sub-human, at least as far as the press was concerned. With a
few exceptions newspapers of the period did not refer to them by name.
They were simply "Chinamen," "John Chinaman" or "celestials."16
In some cases more derogatory terms such as "pigtails" or "celestial
brutes" were employed. The Morning Oregonian in 1865 had referred to
Oregon's newly arrived Chinese as "filthy and abominable," and a year
later called them "long-tailed, moon-eyed nuisances" and "filthy rats."17
According to Wynne, the paper with Harvey Scott at its helm was
ardently Chinophobic until 1 867. Wynne writes that when Californians
began a "fierce anti - Chinese campaign the Morning Oregonian realized
that the employers of Chinese belonged to both political parties; the
Democrats insisted that only Republicans did such wicked things. Next,
the editor discovered that white labor was not available for domestic
service or for railroad construction, the latter problem occupying the
minds of Oregonians very much just then.
"Slowly," Wynne writes, "the great newspaper began to look at the
Chinese less contemptuously and defended the proposed use of Chinese
labor by the Oswego Iron Company a few miles up the Willamette River.
The editor now explained that the company had to compete with Eastern
firms that used pauper labor which, presumably, was only a step removed
from coolie labor."18
Despite its venomous language, the Morning Oregonian probably
played a smaller role in the history of the Chinese in Oregon than other
papers because Portland's Chinese population was more transitory, and
comprised a much smaller percentage than in towns such as Astoria. But
the degree of invective in the Portland paper was a good example of the
extent of anti - Chinese fervor during the period.
Headlines in the 1870s and 1880s were usually nothing more than
upper-case letters on the first line of a story, and frequently were used to
editorialize. In one blatant example the words "Good Chinamen" were
used for two April 26, 1882 Baker City stories about incidents in which
two Chinese were killed and one injured.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 65
Similarly, opinion and fact were often blended in copy. When
Chinese miners were involved in an accident, for example, it was not
uncommon to find comments such as "It's a pity they were only injured."
Chinese Conspicious by Their Absence
Previous literature has shown that historians disagree on the reasons
the Chinese were so poorly treated, and that none apparently explored
whether this vilification was intentional. Reasons and intent, however,
seem less important than the fact that omission of the Chinese erased an
important part of Oregon's history. It was not until well after World War
II that a new group of Chinese students was able to parlay educational
advances into improved coverage. Even then, coverage and amount of bias
were uneven. As late as 1963, for example, The Oregonian used the word
"celestial" in a banner headline.
But whatever else can be said, during the 19th century the papers in
Canyon City, Baker City, Astoria and Jacksonville shared one attribute —
they shunned the Chinese. Degree of anti - Chinese sentiment, rather
than difference, was what separated their coverage when indeed it did
occur.
The Oregon Sentinel Covers "Celestials"
The Oregon Sentinel in Jacksonville, a weekly, provided only sparse
coverage of the Chinese who immigrated to Southern Oregon in the
1 860s even though they comprised as much as 1 8 percent of the popula-
tion of Josephine and Jackson counties.19 Only 14 stories concerning the
Chinese population appeared in the paper during 1866-70. But the
Sentinel would finish No. 1 if vehemence of anti-Chinese rhetoric rather
than volume of coverage were measured.
Some items demonstrated the paper's strong anti - Chinese stance by
mocking their subjects. For example, a Feb. 24, 1866 story reported that
a "near relation of the Sun and Moon," after experiencing language
difficulties at the telegraph office, left with a poor impression of the
"Mellican." Stories employed such a tone even when the subject was
serious. On April 7 of that year, the lead-in "Damaged Celestial" was used
to introduce a story describing a Chinese who drank camphor after being
jailed for tax evasion. Yet a third example occurred February 29, 1868.
That report told of how a Chinese called at a local household asking if a
"cookee" were needed. The answer was "No," but the inquirer apparently
stole $80 before departing.
66 Chiu- Winter 1999
The most blatant example of the paper's and - Chinese sentiments
occurred on May 23, 1868 in a local editorial. The paper agreed with the
Democrats' opposition to the Chinese, and declared that, "Nothing could
so much damage and degrade the labor interests of Oregon as the intro-
duction of those yellow vermin."
Other stories on February 8, 1868 and February 22, 1868 reported
on Chinese involved in a robbery and an assault. In an item involving the
latter, a Chinese convicted of burglary was reported to have carefully
sculpted a handle into a heavy piece of wood, which he used to club a
cellmate on the head. In addition, an item on March 3, 1866, in which
the editor admitted forgetting to report three Chinese had drowned in
Cow Creek "three weeks ago" suggested that the Chinese weren't consid-
ered part of the community.
Three stories of the 14 in the sample were relatively "neutral." In
other words, Chinese were portrayed doing things other people would
normally do. The first example occurred on Jan. 27, 1 866, when readers
were informed that area Chinese had converged on the town for a cere-
mony that was "mysterious and unintelligible enough to the unini- tiated
to belong to the mysteries of the ancient Greek." However, in an apparent
contradiction, the story concluded by reporting that the ceremony "very
much resembled an auction sale." One could assume from the date that
this event marked the Chinese New Year. But the story didn't say.
Then, on February 8 of that year, a matter-of-factly written item
indicated a local Chinese had a broken leg set by a Dr. Greenman. It's
unknown whether it would have been unusual for a Chinese resident to
visit a Caucasian doctor in Jacksonville in 1866. However, the story seems
to indicate that at the time the Chinese were still a curiosity. The paper
did not, for example, report the setting of Caucasian patients' broken legs.
Finally, on Feb. 27, 1 870, the paper noted that area Chinese often flew
kites in their leisure time, and were highly skilled at the practice.
Grant County Papers Rarely Mention the Chinese
Grant County hosted three weekly papers— the Grant County Express,
Grant County Times and Grant County News. The first two were short-
lived. The Express published for two weeks, March 18 and 25, 1876, and
the Times only on March 26, 1877, after which the News took over.
The first two papers' brief lives were not surprising. Frontier editors,
like prospectors, went wherever the "gold" was. And if the gold became
more plentiful elsewhere, the editors left along with their presses.
What was surprising was that between 1876 and 1884, the years
during which the county's papers were studied, there were only five
Winter 1999 " American Journalism 67
stories about the Chinese in Eastern Oregon. The 1 870 census showed
940 of Grant County's population of 2,251, or 41.6 percent, were
Chinese. In 1880, the numbers were 905 out of 3,384, or 26.6 percent. It
would have been expected that a far larger number of the names in the
three papers would have been Chinese. Instead, the Chinese were rarely
mentioned.
Perhaps the invisibility of Grant County's Chinese could account for
the unusually low number. Many mined in outlying towns such as
Granite or prospected in rural areas. In addition, the county's papers did
not publish continuously, resulting in fewer stories. But even in view of
this, five in eight years would be an amazingly low number.
When the Chinese did make it into Grant County's papers they
were cast in a negative light and remained unnamed. For example, the
Grant County Express on March 18, 1876, published a story with the
lead-in, "Gold Watch Found." It became clear that Mr. E. E. Turk, a local
resident, lost a "valuable gold watch three years ago." The watch was
found, according to the story, in the possession of a "Chinaman" who was
"slow to part with it." But in the end, it was recovered through some
unspecified means. In another flagrant case of anti-Chinese editorializ-
ing, the lead-in "Well-Planted" was chosen for a May 26, 1 877 Grant
County Times story about a Chinese miner buried alive in a cave-in at
Sumpter.
The tone of the stories sometimes varied with the paper. The March
25, 1876 Grant County Express, for example, reported two Chinese
renting a mine from a white, and on March 6, 1884, the Grant County
Times matter-of-factly reported the funeral of a Chinese resident of John
Day. The one-paragraph obituary provided few details and did not
identify the deceased.
In perhaps the most absurd example, a story in the April 24, 1884
Grant County Times reported that a Chinese laundry had burned to the
ground in Canyon City. The story focused on the fire department's quick
work but said nothing else about the laundry. Who was the owner? Was
he injured? What was the amount of property loss? The story gave no
clues to the answers to these questions. Curiously, the fire department was
enthusiastically congratulated for its efficiency.
Bedrock Democrat Gives More Coverage to the Chinese
Baker City's four-page weekly, the Bedrock Democrat, provided
generally negative coverage of the Chinese just as its Grant County
counterparts did. However, it also contained the largest number of
68 Chiu« Winter 1999
"positive" or "neutral" stories of the four papers in the study. But the
number probably remains insignificant if the length of the sample period
and Baker City's Chinese population (680 out of 2,804, or 24.2 percent
in 1870 and 787 out of 3,817, or 20.5 percent in 1880) are taken into
account.
In seven four-month periods from 1873-1882, the Democrat
contained 23 stories about local Chinese, six of which were "neutral" or
even slightly "positive." On January 28, 1874, for example, a story
matter-of-factly reported that a Chinese store at Mormon Basin had been
robbed. However, it also indicated that opium was taken. This was
followed on April 8, 1874 by another matter-of-factly written story that
reported the discovery of gold in Connor Creek by Chinese prospectors,
and by two other mining stories in 1878.
The first story, on February 13, 1878, reported that the Griffin's
Gulch mine eight miles west of Baker City was now owned by Chinese,
and yielded $5 per day. Griffin's Gulch was where gold was discovered in
Baker County in 1861. The second story, two weeks later on February
27, 1878, was a summary of county mining activity that mentioned
Chinese ownership.
Four years later, on February 22, 1882, an item in the "Bedrock
Nuggets," the papers local - briefs column, indicated that Chinese in the
town had begun to celebrate Chinese New Year. A second story reported
that the Chinese ushered in the new year with "the firing of fire crackers,
offerings to the spirits, lancantations, prayers etc. A Chinaman informed us
that their festivities continued as long as their money lasted." Though the
stories did not openly attack the Chinese, reference to the "spirits" and
celebrating until funds were exhausted made them appear mysterious and
foolish.
The only story in which the name of a Chinese was used was on
April 24, 1874, when the Bedrock Democrat reported that Gee Sing, a
local merchant, had died and left what was in those days a princely sum of
$2,000 to his wife. The Bedrock Democrat did, however, print its share of
stories which, whether by design or not, reinforced a negative image of
the Chinese. One such example, on January 14, 1880, told of two
Chinese who snuck into a hotel room without paying. In a similar vein,
the paper reported on March 10, 1880 that the marshal was "making it
red hot" for Chinese evading the city's laundry tax by throwing them in
jail.
Another story in the March 31, 1880 paper told of a La Grande
resident's Chinese servant. But a bold headline above the story read, "Mac
and His Pet Chinaman," which made the Chinese sound like a dog or
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 69
other household animal. That was followed on April 28, 1880 by a report
of a new gambling game in Baker City's Chinatown that attracted the
"heathens."
Like the papers in Jacksonville and Grant County, the Bedrock
Democrat also launched direct assaults on the Chinese. On March 17,
1880, it included in its news section an editorial stating that "It is a pity
that low fares to the East could not have been kept a little longer so that
the Mongolians could have a chance to exit." Stronger language was used
on April 5, 1876 to report a shooting incident at Auburn between two
Chinese, neither of whom was injured. The story concluded: "Unfortu-
nately, they both escaped with their lives."
The Daily Astorian Highlights Chinese Criminals
Demographics would seem to indicate that Astoria's daily paper, one
of the state's first, should have taken the lead in covering the town's
Chinese. After all, in 1880 a total of 2,317— or 47.2 percent— of Clatsop
County's residents were Chinese. And unlike Grant, Baker and Jackson
counties, where the Chinese population was scattered, Clatsop County's
Chinese were concentrated in Astoria.
So a substantial number of names in the paper should have been
Chinese. But the 108 issues sampled between 1876 and 1877 contained
only 22 stories about local Chinese. In addition, not once was a Chinese
resident named except on August 14, 1877, in the Circuit Court docket
published in the paper and on August 29, 1877, when judgments in two
lawsuits and verdicts in three criminal cases were listed.
In Hop Chung v. Chung Hing, the lawsuit was dismissed, with the
defendant paying court costs. Wong Sam v. Chin Ah Ung, on the other
hand, resulted in a judgment for the defendants with costs being paid by
the plaintiff. In the criminal case State v. Chung Sing and nine others
charged with assault with a deadly weapon, Sing You was found guilty
and fined $50 and costs. There was no mention of the fate of the other
defendants, however. State v. Chung Ah Yem was dismissed on motion of
the prosecutor, and State v. Chin Wot resulted in a hung jury. One other
listing, Louis Park v. Chung Hong, deserves mention because the parties
were ordered to give testimony to O. E Bell who, according to the June 9,
1 876 paper, had been elected vice president of the city's Anti - Chinese
Society.20
For the most part, The Daily Astorian, a six-day- a-week paper that
published Tuesday through Sunday, treated the town's Chinese as if they
didn't exist. Though they were an integral part of the town's economy,
70 Chiu- Winter 1999
they were frequently blamed for all of Astoria's economic ills. Indeed, on
May 3, 1876, an editorial declared that the Chinese ". . . pauperize white
people wherever they go."
More frequently, the paper made efforts to make them seem unintel-
ligent or dishonest, or mock them. On May 8, 1876, for example, a story
reported that a new machine at Booth's Cannery could attach labels at a
rate of 1,000 per hour. The last sentence of the story read, "Apropos the
imitative genius of the Chinaman, it was curious to note how readily a
heathen mastered the intricacies of this really complicated machine." The
implication was that the Chinese could imitate, but not think. Just short
of two weeks later, on May 20, 1876, the paper reported that, "Two
heathenish celestial brutes had been jailed for a shameful and intolerable
nuisance in open day time." However, it did not describe what this
"nuisance" was. In another story that focused on illegal activity, the town
deputy marshal was reported on June 22, 1 877 to have escorted two
Chinese to Portland, presumably to jail, for selling whisky without a
license.
Stories about how to deal with Chinese were also frequently seen.
On May 16, 1876, for example, residents were advised to use "red hot
pokers, cayenne pepper and clubs" if Chinese workers went on strike. But
just a month later, on June 14, the paper issued an apparently contradic-
tory editorial when it cautioned Astorians to restrict themselves to non-
violent methods when expelling Chinese, "lest men of clear minds with
pure purposes are made to appear in a role not at all suited to their cause."
Chinese also were reported to be inept at simple tasks such as transporting
wood (August 2, 1877); and a Chinese with a cut was reported to have
been treated by a doctor using a "garden hose" (August 10, 1877).
Most of the other stories concerned incidents such as strikes or
accidents. For example, the May 4, 1 876 paper reported that Chinese at
the Booth's and Badollett canneries had refused to work without a $2 a
month increase, but abandoned their strike after just a few hours. And a
Chinese at Kinney's was reported on June 22, 1 977 to have lost "one or
two fingers" to a tin-cutting machine. Thus, it seemed odd that on July
17, 1877, The Daily Astorian reported that J. N. Armstrong, a prominent
resident, invited the town's elite to admire a collection of Oriental art he
had just brought back from Peking.
Two of the only mildly "neutral" stories were on June 12, 1876 and
July 6, 1 877 about the opening of a Chinese lodge and takeover by
Chinese of a slaughterhouse. But some bias was apparent even in these.
The lodge item referred to the founder as a "white-haired descendant of
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 71
Confucius." The other story reported that a "gang" of Chinese was
operating what once was the Bergman and Berry facility, but that they
made "a great deal more stink."
The paper contained dozens of stories about meetings of other
fraternal organizations. These usually included details of the business
transacted and the members who attended.
Chinese Invisibility
Aside from coverage of routine news, two events occurred that were
sufficiently cataclysmic and close enough to the Astoria and Baker City -
Canyon City areas that they should have received major coverage from
papers in those cities.21 These were the exclusion of Chinese from Tacoma
and Seattle in 1885 and 1886 and the Snake River massacre on the
Oregon - Idaho border in June 1887. As many as 3,000 Puget Sound -
area Chinese had sought refuge in Astoria starting in October 1885-22
That would have meant about 5,300 Chinese in Clatsop County, mainly
in Astoria, to about 2,500 whites, a frightful scenario for a county that
blamed the Chinese for all of its economic ills.
Yet between September 1, 1885 and February 20, 1886 The Daily
Astorian printed only one paragraph, on October 1 6, about the flood of
refugees, while at the same time using 20 stories about region-wide anti-
Chinese meetings and firing of Chinese, and departures of Chinese on
Pacific steamers. It would be difficult to believe the paper didn't know
Chinese were streaming into the city. It seems more likely, at least in this
case, that the omission was intentional. Perhaps the paper hoped that, if
ignored, this "problem" would go away.
In the second event, seven whites attacked a camp at Log Cabin Bar
on the Snake River, murdered 1 0 Chinese miners, and stole about
$10,000 in gold dust. Four of the seven were ultimately arrested; one died
in jail. The three who remained in custody were tried beginning May 1 5,
1888, and found not guilty on September 1. The trial took place in Baker
City. It would have been expected that because of the depth of anti-
Chinese feeling, the relevance of mining to the Canyon City area, and its
proximity to the trial site, the Grant County News would have at least
mentioned the start of the proceedings or their result, but between May
15 and July 26, 1888 it uttered not a word on the topic.
Distance apparently could not have been a reason for the omission.
In the 10 weeks after the start of the trial, pages of the News contained,
among others, stories about a circus in Baker City; a man convicted in
72 Chiu- Winter 1999
Pendleton for biting off another's nose in a bar room brawl; and a man
who was hanged in Portland for murdering and dismembering his
stepdaughter.
And during the month following the acquittal the paper printed
several stories from Baker City and other distant parts of the state.
Subjects included the return of the Grant County clerk from Baker City;
a "disastrous fire" there the week of Sept. 6; and the beginning of the
rebuilding process. There was also an item indicating that 500 patients
now resided at the state mental hospital in Salem. Perhaps the most telling
evidence occurred on July 12, 1888, when the paper reported the gunshot
killing of a white miner on the Snake River. Apparently, the killing of a
white miner was more important "news" than the trial of suspects in the
robbery and killing of 10 Chinese miners.
Issues of the Bedrock Democrat were not available for the months
following the murders or the trial. However, another paper, the Baker
County Reveille, was available for the six weeks after the murders. The
Reveille reported the incident on June 29, which would not be considered
an unreasonable delay considering the fact that Baker City is 75 miles
from the Oregon - Idaho border. But the initial report appeared as part of
a story that a team of Chinese investigators had been dispatched from San
Francisco to track down the killers.
This indirect dissemination of news would seem to suggest that the
murders were common knowledge in Baker City, but for various reasons,
did not make it into the papers of the period.
Economic Decline Fueled Distrust
The most striking common characteristic of these four papers'
coverage of local Chinese was its absence. In addition to the extremely low
number of stories when population is taken into consideration, none of
the papers included Chinese in listings of births, marriages, deaths, or
society news.23
Frontier papers served as a social archive, providing a record of the
culture and history of a town. If a town had no paper, or one that ignored
a segment of the population, it would be more difficult to reconstruct
part of that segment's heritage. The June 12, 1876 Daily Astorian lodge-
opening story, for example, did not describe what kind of organization
was started, who could join, where the group met, or even the name of
the "white-haired descendant of Confucius."
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 73
Similarly, ads for the Chinese physician Ah Moo appeared weekly in
the Bedrock Democrat from January 1880 to March 1882, along with reports
that the doctor had cured Caucasian patients of blood poisoning and
diphtheria. Little else is known about Ah Moo except that he was in Baker
City about two years and cured at least two patients. But what was his
position in the community? That information is lost forever. Also lost is the
heritage of one-fourth of the population of 1870s and 1880s Baker County.
It seems unlikely, despite the anti - Chinese hysteria of the 1870s
and 1880s, that editors made a conscious effort to exclude the Chinese
from their newspapers and cities. However, a number of factors could
account for the way these early newspapers treated the Chinese.
The first and most obvious reason is racial bias. Bias was undoubt-
edly present because in the late 19th century, society itself was racist.
Evidence of anti - Chinese bias was seen in the press and in society in
the form of discriminatory laws. Historian Robert Edward Wynne, for
example, mentioned bias in Jackson County mining laws. More re-
cently, Portland State University professor Charles A. Tracy took a look
at discriminatory laws and selective enforcement in Portland, Oregon,
that resulted in the arrests of a disproportionately large number of
Chinese,24 but this alone would not explain why early papers shunned
the Chinese. As Wynne wrote, at least some editors initially welcomed
the new immigrants.25
Far more likely is that the papers turned on the Chinese because of a
combination of reasons, as Wynne and authors Stuart Creighton Miller,
Ronald Takaki, Shih-Shan Henry Tsai and Sucheng Chan suggested.26
They seem to agree that the economic declines of the 1880s, exacerbated
by racism and strange appearance and customs, turned the white popula-
tion against the Chinese.
Five More Important Contributing Factors
In addition, there are five factors they did not touch on but which
would be integral to a study of the relationship between newspapers and
immigrants.
The first and most important is that, as Gaye Tuchman and later
Richard Lentz wrote, editors (and for that matter non-editors) tend to
move in social circles in which they feel most comfortable.27 In frontier
Oregon, newspaper editors and publishers were usually among a town's
most prominent citizens. Bedrock Democrat publisher J. M. Shepherd, for
example, was a Baker City lawyer who served as a delegate to state politi-
74 Chiu* Winter 1999
cal conventions. It would appear that because editors and publishers in
Jacksonville, Canyon City, Baker City and Astoria were among their
towns' "movers and shakers," they felt more comfortable associating with,
and reporting the affairs of other movers and shakers.
On the other hand, Chinese miners or cannery workers also may
have felt more at ease with other Chinese. They came to the United States
as sojourners, hoping to make a small fortune and in a few years return
home wealthy by Chinese, if not American standards. As such, they may
not have cared that newspapers of the period ignored them. In addition,
their inability to speak English and thus, communicate, and their differ-
ent appearance were undoubtedly factors in the sparse attention they
received.
Second, as Barbara Cloud wrote, frontier newspapers were fre-
quently one-man operations in which the printer was also editor, and
professional standards as we know them today did not exist. Conse-
quently, the editor's political leanings also became the paper's. This
apparently was true in Oregon as well as in other parts of the West.28
Third, the finding that the Chinese were rarely mentioned, even
though surprising, was not inconsistent with what Chilton R. Bush and
R.K. Bullock found in 1952. Their study of two San Francisco-area daily
papers revealed that the names of people in different occupations do not
appear in the news in the same proportion as their distribution in the
population.29 Thus, politicians were much more likely to make it into
news columns than plumbers. The Chinese in early Oregon, it should be
remembered, were almost all laborers and servants.
Fourth, the problem of focusing on whether silence is intentional,
and thus "strategic," Lentz writes, is that doing so may "... miss the
larger point cited by Monica B. Morris when discussing the lack of
coverage of the women's liberation movement during its early days. The
absence of stories could not, she said, "lightly be construed as a deliberate
and calculated strategy of social control.... Nonetheless, ... the result of
lack of coverage would be much the same as if it were a deliberate
strategy: the movement would remain unknown to the general public; it
would be prevented from becoming news."30
And finally, "Chinese bashing" seems to have been popular in the
late 1 9th century. The movement toward fairness— if not objectivity— in
journalism did not begin until decades later, and there certainly wasn't
pressure to diversify newsrooms and along with them coverage, in the
1870s and 1880s.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 75
Endnotes
'Chinese surnames are, with two exceptions, always monosyllabic. The exceptions are Soohoo and
Owyang. (sometimes spelled Ouyang). Common examples of Chinese surnames are Chiu, Chen and
Wong. Japanese surnames, on the other hand, are always multisyllabic. Examples of Japanese
surnames are Kawasaki, Yamamoto, Musashi and Honda.
2Robert Edward Wynne, Reaction to the Chinese in the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia
1850-1910 (New York: Arno Press, 1978), 43.
3Wynne, 43.
4Wynne, 44. However, the mines in Josephine County were depleted quickly, and the Chinese
population there was transitory. The Ninth Census of the United States shows that 634 Chinese lived
in Jackson County, but only 223 remained in Josephine County in 1870.
5V. Blue, "The Mining Laws of Jackson County," Oregon Historical Quarterly, 23, (1922).
'Wynne, 45.
7Port listings show that in August 1868 the Jeanne Alice arrived from Hong Kong with 430
Chinese. She was followed shortly by the Edward James with 380, the Garibaldi with 210, the Alden
Besse with 180, the Forward with 330 and the Manila with 425- The passengers on these ships
probably did not remain in Portland for very long. The Ninth Census of the United States in 1870
showed only 508 Chinese in the city. The situation changed along with conditions in other parts of
the state, however. The Eleventh Census of the United States in 1890 showed that the Chinese
population of Portland had snowballed to 5,184, whereas the number of Chinese in Eastern Oregon
dropped precipitously. Only 326 remained in Grant County, and only 398 in Baker County. In
Jackson County, there were only 224 Chinese in 1 890.
8Shih-Shan Henry Tsai, The Chinese Experience in America (Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University
Press, 1986), 194, from the Bureau of Census.
'Chris Friday, Organizing Asian-American Labor: The Pacific Coast Canned-Salmon Industry, 1870-
1942 (Philadelphia, Pa.: Temple University Press, 1994), 56.
'"Friday, 57.
"Fewer than 9,000 Chinese females entered the U.S. mainland berween 1852 and the enactment
of the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Law, according to Sucheng Chan, Asian Americans: An Interpretive
History (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1991), 104. Chan estimates that during that 30- year period
there were never more than 5,000 Chinese women in what are now the 48 contiguous states at any
one time.
"Friday, 57; from 23 May 1879, Weekly Astorian.
13Elmer Clarence Sandmeyer, The Anti-Chinese Movement in California (Urbana, 111.: University of
Illinois Press, 1939), 57-77.
,4Other sources indicate the number killed Rock Springs was 28. According to Tsai, China and the
Overseas Chinese in the United States, 1868-191 1, 72, a total of 15 were also injured and $147,000 of
property destroyed in the Wyoming Territory town on 2 September 1885- The California towns were
Los Angeles, San Francisco, Red Bluff, Yuba City, Redding and Chico.
15Jules Alexander Karlin, "Ami - Chinese Outbreak in Tacoma, 1885," Pacific Historical Review, 23
(1954)271.
,6The term "celestial" apparently came into use because the Emperor of China was said by the
Chinese to be the "Son of Heaven." It is now considered to be derogatory.
17Wynne, 66; and Morning Oregonian, 17 February 1865, and 10 July 1 865-
l8Wynne, 67; and Morning Oregonian, 6 March 1867, and 10 April 1867.
"The Ninth Census of the United States, 3, indicated that in 1870 a total of 18.1 percent of the
population of Josephine County and 13 percent of the population of Jackson County was Chinese.
20The Daily Astorian, 9 June 1876.
2 According to Richard Lentz, "The Search for Strategic Silence," American Journalism (Winter
1991), 13, "Locating instances of strategic silence may be accomplished by reasoning from the
visibility of the actors; the nature or circumstances of the event; the availability of knowledge to the
writer or editor; deviations from journalistic practices; and the characteristics of medium, genre, or
particular media organization." An example of this silence, he writes, was Newsweek neglecting to
76 Chm« Winter 1999
mention that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was present when President Johnson signed the 1965 Voting
Rights Act.
22According to Friday, 58, Astoria became a safe-haven because anti-Chinese feeling there never
turned violent, as it did in numerous other cities in the West. He quotes the Weekly Astorian as
reporting on 13 February 1886, that the town became "a sort of jumping off place . . . and they
congregate here in the same fashion and for about the same reason that they cluster in San Francisco
- because they are driven off elsewhere and have no place else to go." Further, many Astorians
probably refrained from anti-Chinese activities because they feared the laborers might abandon the
canneries, causing the local economy to collapse.
"Exclusion laws and the "sojourner" status of early Chinese immigrants meant that most of frontier
Oregon's Chinese were single males. However, that would not explain their almost total absence from
news of record and society columns.
"Charles A. Tracy, "Race, Crime and Social Policy: The Chinese in Oregon, 1871- 1885," Crime
and Social Justice, (Winter 1980), 11. Tracy found that as a result of these laws, arrests of Chinese for
"victimless" crimes such as prostitution, opium smoking and too many people in not enough space
were as much as 10 times higher than for whites. It is unclear whether this adversely affected the
image of the Chinese because they were excluded from newspapers. Thus, the arrests did not become
public knowledge.
25Wynne, iv.
2'Stuart Creighton Miller, The Unwelcome Immigrant: The American Image of the Chinese, 1785-
1882 (Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press, 1969); Ronald Takaki, Strangers from a Different
Shore: A History of Asian Americans (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1989); Sucheng Chan, Asian
Americans: An Interpretive History (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1991); Shih-Shan Henry Tsai, The
Chinese Experience in America (Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1986).
27Gaye Tuchman wrote in Making News: A Study in the Construction of Reality (New York: Free
Press, 1978), 138, that news events must "resonate" with a reporter's experiences. More recently,
Lentz in "The Search for Strategic Silence," American Journalism, (1991) 10, wrote that "The version
of reality . . . relies upon the production of meanings based not only upon published content but
upon ways in which some things are not 'seen,' or if seen, not recorded . . . ." He continued,
"Intention may not always explain the reason for editorial silence .... Silence may reflect not the
journal's (or reporter's) intention so much as the power of ideology, customs, traditions, and mores in
force at a given time."
2SBarbara Cloud, The Business of Newspapers on the Western Frontier, (Reno, Nev.: University of
Nevada Press, 1992).
2,Chilton R. Bush, R.K. Bullock, "Names in the News: a study of two dailies," Journalism Quarterly,
29 (Spring 1952) 150, 151.
30Lentz, 12; and Monica B. Morris, "Newspapers and the New Feminists: Black Out as Social
Control?" Journalism Quarterly, 50 (Spring 1973) 42.
Winter 1 999 " American Journalism 77
78 Winter 1999
Common Forms for Uncommon
Actions: The Search for Political
Organization in Dust Bowl
California
By James Hamilton
This study addresses the forms of social criticism penned by migrant
farmworkers who worked the California fields in the late 1930s and early
1940s through the examination of mimeographed newspapers published in a
California migrant labor camp. It concludes that the inability of migrants to
organize for effective political action was due not only to lack of resources or
the strength of the status quo (which was sizable), but also to a failure to find
a cultural means by which migrants could collectively see their situation,
organize, and work to change it.
From 1935 until the beginning of WW II, the Dust Bowl
migration was widely regarded as evidence of the failure of
the United States' market economy to generate decent jobs
and decent lives for all its citizens.1 By the late 1930s, more than 500,000
people had left the south central states of Oklahoma, Arkansas, Texas, and
Missouri, with more than 300,000 making their way to California, only
to find infrequent, low-paying work amidst widespread persecution and
inescapable poverty.2
Neither the presence of migrant farmworkers nor the living condi-
tions they endured were new to Californian farms or to the 1930s. To the
James Hamilton is an Assistant Professor in the Grady College of Journalism and Mass
Communication at the University of Georgia.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 79
contrary, they had been long-standing features of state as well as national
agriculture.3 Yet what was new was the comparative legitimacy of alterna-
tive political movements and their organizational strength. Therefore,
chances for widespread improvements in the migrant farmworkers'
situation rested largely on their ability to join with these political move-
ments and apply enough pressure to the rigid and reactionary agricultural
industry and state political elite to bring about significant change.
The present study grapples with the complexities of producing an
effective political movement, both in this case and in general, and the role
of journalism and communication in this process. It is a contribution to
recent work about alternative journalism, alternative political movements,
and the alternative cultural forms they use.4 Upon examining the cultural
forms used by a selection of Anglo migrant farmworkers who worked the
California fields in the late 1930s and early 1940s, the study addresses the
usefulness of these forms for making sense of the situation in which Anglo
migrant farmworkers found themselves, then to assess to what degree such
cultural forms aided or inhibited their ability to organize politically.5
Although this is a story of a proto-movement that never coalesced, much
can be learned about strategies of alternative politics and the role of
communication and culture by investigating failures as well as successes.6
Tension Between Individualism & Collectivism
The creation of an effective political alliance between labor and
migrants depended on reconciling two distinctive and in many ways
opposed traditions of labor activity. As Hyman Berman notes about the
history of radical labor movements in the United States, the tension
between individualism and collectivism constitutes the core of a "major
problem [:]... whether it was [ever] possible for a Leninist [-style]
movement with its centralized authority and its quasi-military discipline
to coexist in a region [such as the American West] where the [labor]
traditions are individualistic and even anarchistic."
In an investigation of such issues in the early 20th Century, Berman
concludes that no synthesis was possible between "the individualist,
iconoclastic spirit which characterized the frontier radical tradition" and
"the building of a truly American working class revolutionary movement."7
This major problem in radical organization was at the center of the difficul-
ties between migrants and labor organizations. Overcoming this difference
was a Herculean challenge for labor organizers and migrant activists — one
that, in this case, was not met and that continues to this day.8
80 Hamilton • Winter 1999
What makes such an examination possible is the survival of mimeo-
graphed newspapers that were published in migrant labor camps in the
1930s and 1940s. For purposes of this essay, the Weed Patch Cultivator,
later named the Tow-Sack Tattler, provides the material on which one case
can be documented.9 The newspaper appeared from 1938 to 1942 in the
federally run Arvin Migratory Labor Camp near Bakersfield, California.10
Although the scattered issues and haphazardly preserved archival material
that have survived do not allow one to make definitive statements about
such matters as editorial practice and newspaper/management day-to-day
relations, they begin to reveal a complex situation that speaks directly to
the issues.
Although many government camps also published newspapers
during this time, this particular camp newspaper deserves attention for
two reasons. First, it was conceived and produced in the inaugural federal
government camp, which served as the blueprint for all federal camps to
follow.11 By 1941, the federal Farm Security Administration (FSA) ran 53
camps in 1 1 states from California to Florida, Washington State to Texas,
and many camps came to publish newspapers at a later date, likely relying
on the Camp Arvin newspaper as the basic template as much as they did
for other camp matters.12
Second, the camp in which this newspaper appeared was located in
Kern County in the San Joaquin Valley — an area of high labor activity
and a time during some of the largest agricultural strikes in the country.13
Kern County constituted what Devra Weber calls "a relatively hospitable
atmosphere for Anglo organizing." Remnants of earlier labor, populist,
and socialist movements persisted, as did the Communist Party, which
"found enough members there to become the strongest branch in the [San
Joaquin] Valley," and the Socialist Party.14 In autumn 1938, the largest
strike in the state was staged by cotton pickers in Kern County, where
some 3,000 workers stayed out of the cotton fields for two weeks. During
1939, although there were fewer strikes, those that did take place were
larger than in the previous year, with the largest one involving the entire
San Joaquin Valley, the conflict again over pay for work in the cotton
fields.15 Hence, efforts to fashion an alliance between migrant
farmworkers and the labor movement had a great chance of occurring
here, with the residue of such efforts more likely available for study
today.16
The issue of how to examine such a process remains a topic of
debate among journalism historians. Whatever position taken, these
Winter 1999 • American Journalism
debates suggest that journalism historians are not immune to siding with
a particular theoretical perspective concerning the nature of communica-
tion and its role in social life.17 Accordingly, this study also seeks to
demonstrate the usefulness of a cultural perspective vis-a-vis other,
mainstream perspectives.18
Instead of seeing newspaper items as means of persuasion or propa-
ganda, as mechanically integrating individuals into social systems, or as
individual expressions of unique views competing in a free and open
marketplace of ideas, a cultural perspective seeks to detect and understand
commonly held world views that made such items intelligible and mean-
ingful in the first place, and how they may become a common basis of
legitimacy and action.19
Creating a "Meaningful Cultural World"
Carey characterizes communication in this sense as "the construc-
tion and maintenance of an ordered, meaningful cultural world that can
serve as a control and container for human action."20 It is the production
of this "meaningful cultural world" and the shape of its primary contours
that are of interest here.21 Correspondingly, the purpose of analysis is not
to investigate whether attitudes were changed as a result of reading the
newspaper, whether a supposedly singular migrant culture became
integrated with an equally singular labor movement, nor to attempt to
simply document what various people at that time and place ostensibly
thought. Rather, it is to suggest in what ways previously unseen and
unrecognized conditions of subjugation were made visible, palpable, and
important enough perhaps to be recognized and acted upon collectively.
To do this, one studies forms in the historical context of their
production and reception in order to understand how they provided the
cultural basis for collective action. Cultural forms in this sense, writes
Raymond Williams, are regarded as "common property, to be sure with
differences of degree, of writers and audiences or readers, before any
communicative composition can occur."22
Thus, forms constitute a social relationship (the requirement for
collective action) in at least two ways. The first is that any form makes use
of established social conventions if it is to be understood. Even the most
avant-garde work depends on (an) already established set(s) of conven-
tions in order for viewers or readers to judge its avant-gardism. Forms in
this sense renew mutual assumptions, expectations, obligations, and
understandings.23 A second sense in which forms constitute a social
82 Hamilton 'Winter 1999
relationship is in terms of what they accomplish: the evoking, positing or
proposition of a relationship, and, also, the evoking, positing or proposi-
tion of, in the words of Williams, "an active relationship to the experience
being expressed."24
Therefore, when understood as a social relation, form is the means
by which the making and understanding of social relations is attempted
and always variably achieved. By implication, journalism and language use
in general must be seen ultimately and fully as, again in Williams' words,
"a special kind of material practice: that of human sociality."25 Such a
position suggests that, far from camp newspapers' being simply an inert
"record of the process" of "subcultural construction" (as one historian of
this situation puts it), they themselves were a major cultural mode of the
production of social relations.26
Attention to form is of particular usefulness when addressing
alternative media. As David Spencer points out, cultural forms such as
songs, verse, stories, and fables generally have received little attention
from labor historians in comparison to the more "serious" forms of essays,
tracts, and speeches. However, cultural forms used by the rank and file are
of immense importance in assessing social movements, because they are
vernacular expressions of non-elite world views, thereby suggesting more
defensibly popular instead of elite experience.27
The forms that migrant criticism of living and working conditions
took in the newspaper included blustery personal statements and turgid,
simplistic essays composed of labor union cliches. However, forms such as
verse, personal commentary, and jokes had their basis in everyday migrant
experience. Because they emerged from migrants' experience, if used to
give shape and meaning to working and living conditions in which all
labored, such forms had a greater potential of compellingly dramatizing
exploitative conditions and therefore more of a chance of achieving
widespread collective awareness and action.28 What potential existed in
forms used — and what did not — are the topics discussed in this article.
The Inescapable Reality of Beans & Dust
Living and working conditions of migrant farmworkers in Califor-
nia during the 1930s were generally acknowledged as desperate and
unconscionable, but they were as inescapably a part of day-to-day reality
as beans and dust. Despite these persistent conditions, little had been
done to change them.29 Although migrant laborers had worked California
fields since the later 1 800s, attempts to organize them had failed largely
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 83
because of the difficulty of organizing such a scattered and mobile
workforce. As a result, radical activity earlier in the century had been
limited to areas of high concentration of workers, such as timber camps
and anarchistic activities of the Industrial Workers of the World
(IWW).30
By the 1930s, with the renewed legitimacy of labor, organizing
activity among farmworkers picked up, beginning with the efforts of the
Cannery and Agricultural Workers Industrial Union (CAWIU). Few long-
term gains were made, however, before organizational difficulties and
wave after wave of vigilante repression beat the union down to the point
where, by the mid-1950s, it disbanded.31 What made organizing so
difficult was the federal government's and labor's shunning of migrant
farmworkers and their plight.
The American Federation of Labor (AFL) strongly resisted any
attempt to create an affiliated farmworkers' union because it emphasized
its heritage of supporting skilled craftsmen, not manual laborers. Also,
non-farmworker members were much more desirable for union-building
activities because, as Cletus Daniel notes, they were "overwhelmingly
nonmigratory, able to afford modest union dues, and eligible to claim the
rights and protections afforded by the National Labor Relations Act," the
last reason a particularly damning one for farmworkers, the only labor
group excluded from the protection of federal legislation.32
Agricultural Industry Growth Spurs Union Activity
However, the industrial-scale growth of California agriculture
created a similarly industrial-scale work force in size and concentration,
thereby making organization more possible than it had been. During the
late 1 9th and early 20th centuries, few areas of the economy had been
more affected by the growing efficiency of industrial capital than agricul-
ture.33 Furthermore, such industrialization had become the dominant
practice in California, where concentrations of mobile workers were
needed in increasingly large numbers to service the state's labor-intensive
cash crops.34 The concentration of wage workers, combined with increas-
ingly desperate living and working conditions, led to an explosive situa-
tion, which organized labor saw as an opportunity and that those who ran
the state's agricultural industry saw as a substantial threat.35
Both government and labor became involved in this emerging
situation. Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal government attempted to
84 Hamilton •Winter 1999
address it through the Resettlement Administration, later becoming the
Farm Security Administration (FSA).36 Organized labor in the form of
the Congress of Industrial Organization (CIO), under the leadership of
John L. Lewis and his seeming tolerance of Communist Party of the
United States of America (CPUS A) members and activities, also commit-
ted resources to organizing migrant farmworkers.37 In particular, the
political potential of tens of thousands of alienated farmworkers con-
vinced some in the CIO to try to merge migrants into a larger national
organization. Therefore, the increasing industrialization of the California
agricultural industry, combined with the reformist stance of the federal
government and the emergence of the CIO and its initial willingness to
work on behalf of migrant farmworkers, helped provide an institutional
basis for the agrarian radicalism in California of the late 1 930s.
While the federal government started its migrant labor camp
program, union organizers for the CIO-affiliated United Cannery,
Agricultural, Packing and Allied Workers of America (UCAPAWA) set out
to organize migrant workers into a potent national political force aligned
with the goals of labor. As noted earlier, initial results — large strikes in
1938 and 1939, with the epicenter being the San Joaquin Valley — were
important.38 Migrants lived and worked, and the camp newspaper was
initially written, produced, distributed, and read in this explosive context,
with the federal camp project and labor unions aligned against the
agricultural industry and state government supporters.
Camp Newspapers Emerge
The government-funded camp newspaper was but a recent example
of the long-standing government practice of self-promotion, to which
substantial financial resources had long been channeled and that were at a
high level in the 1930s.39 Organized labor's involvement in the camp
newspaper continued a long-standing tradition of using newspapers to aid
the organization of its activities, and was linked to similar uses as the labor
press and the radical press.40 Yet, due to institutional requirements, each
was limited to working through the migrant social formation instead of
controlling content directly.
Far from being an indigenous response by migrant farmworkers, the
newspaper was established, supported, and encouraged by the Farm
Security Administration (FSA) for two reasons. The first is that it played a
part in the official FSA goal of "rehabilitating" migrants from "rootless
wanderers" to responsible, wage-earning citizen-consumers.41 The other
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 85
side of this seemingly altruistic goal was the political need for incorporat-
ing an increasingly desperate, disenfranchised portion of the populace that
had nothing to lose and everything to gain from radical, if not revolution-
ary, activism.42 An important component of this rehabilitation was the
camp newspaper, which migrants were supposed to read and produce in
order to learn the role of news in a liberal democracy and the boundaries
within which such activity "properly" occurred.43
The second reason the FSA established and supported the camp
newspaper was for institutional survival. In addition to playing a role in
the rehabilitation program, the newspaper was intended to provide
evidence to a skeptical Congress of migrant "rehabilitation" and, there-
fore, that money appropriated by Congress was being well-spent. From
the beginning of the program in 1935, congressional opponents of New
Deal policies found the FSA a highly visible example of a government
program run amok. FSA directors therefore spent a good deal of resources
to document activities and to build public approval and political support
for the camp program as humanitarian aid.44 Camp newspapers were
important to these efforts, as well.
However, there were problems with having the FSA support and
promote camp newspapers. The Associated Farmers and other opponents
to organized agricultural labor felt that, should migrants organize, it could
threaten their control of the industry. Government migrant labor camps
already gave laborers a chance to live with and get to know each other,
thereby creating more of an opportunity to organize.45 If camps became a
base of labor activity (newspapers being one important means of organiza-
tion), growers would have to apply political pressure to undercut the FSA
camp program, thereby eliminating this protective environment for union
activities.46 The camp education program therefore contained fundamen-
tal contradictions. It helped the FSA meet its pedagogical goals by
supposedly helping to build a self-governing democratic community. But
the more successful the program was, the more it threatened growers'
control of the agricultural industry, thereby antagonizing a powerful
coalition of interests that had the power statewide and nationally to
reduce or end the FSA's funding.4'
Camp newspapers therefore came to occupy a very important
ideological role that had potential effects far beyond the boundaries of
Camp Arvin. Opposition to the camp program could be minimized if the
newspaper successfully transformed rootless migrants into rooted, wage-
earning middle-class citizens, but opposition would certainly increase if
the newspaper helped build a serious labor movement. Because of these
86 Hamilton 'Winter 1999
high stakes, the FSA not only helped establish camp newspapers, but the
institutional imperative was to shape them in very particular ways.
Certain roles had to be promoted and others excluded if the
(re) educational program was to succeed and the FSA survive.
Although explicit controls on content could not be legally insti-
tuted, Camp Arvin management still attempted to control the paper
indirectly from the very first issue through the (re)educational program
and related regulations. Despite the reported Camp Committee decision
to start the paper, its editorial policy stated in the first issue suggests
substantial management involvement.48 In addition to emphasizing the
democratic function of using the paper to "discuss ideas" (thereby indicat-
ing its kinship with the education program already in place), the use of
"your" and "them" (instead of "our" and "us") makes clear the distinctness
of the writer from the migrant population:
[The newspaper] should serve the people of Camp in these
ways: (1) to inform them of working conditions in general
and in this district; (2) to make it possible for them to discuss
ideas or events which are important to them; (3) to let the
campers know what is going on in Camp, and above all feel
that it is your paper; and lets have your ideas, jokes, poetry
etc. Any contributions should be left with Earl Stone [the
camp secretary].49
Another passage further in this statement directly addressed the kind
of stories to be allowed: "Any camper with something to say, as long as it
has interest for the Campers in general, entertaining or serious, may have
space"50 [emphasis added] . Who is doing the deciding is never made
explicit, but, as the newspaper is being produced in government offices
and by government-hired workers, and based on how the educational
program was managed, it is reasonable to assume that the camp manager
would be called in to decide.
Camp Manager Controls Content
The camp manager had many ways of controlling the newspaper,
thereby keeping it within the limitations dictated by the FSA goals of
maximizing its educational value and minimizing its threat to California
growers. Methods included appointing the editor; supplying all materials,
including paper, a typewriter, and access to a mimeograph machine; and
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 87
making available the camp secretary to transcribe migrant-donated items,
and to type and produce the newspaper.51 Material aid included allowing
the newspapers to be sent through the mail free of charge.
Camp newspapers were routinely sent to other migrant camps as
well as to area libraries and to the FSA home office, which used stories
from them for its own public relations materials.52 Of course, this support
served as a control because it could be withdrawn at any time, thus
silencing the paper. Although the campers' fund (generated by a 1 0 cent
per site per day fee) soon paid for the paper on which the newspaper was
printed, the government continued to provide production support.53 The
FSA regarded the overall value of the newspaper highly enough that,
when migrant interest was low, management kept it going. As September
and October were peak work times of the year, few migrants had the
energy or interest to carry on the newspaper during these months, and so
the duty to keep the paper going was assumed and exercised by manage-
ment.54
Despite these efforts to shape and control the newspaper, the
relationships between labor, the migrants, and the FSA were such that
complete FSA control of the newspaper was, at least, impractical and, at
most, impossible. If the extent to which its officers directed efforts toward
the FSA camps is any indication, the UCAPAWA felt that the government
camps were of great strategic value. At least five FSA camps (Arvin,
Gridley, Marysville, Shafter, and Visalia) had active locals of the
UCAPAWA, the Worker's Alliance of America (a national pressure group
aligned with the UCAPAWA), or both, and during strikes the UCAPAWA
used several FSA camps as strike headquarters without interference from
government employees.55
In addition, labor activity in the government camps was possible
largely because of the sympathy most FSA personnel — especially those in
the field — had for the goals of organized labor. Many FSA workers,
including the camp managers (mostly liberals, some socialists), personally
supported efforts by the migrants to organize.56 However, no federal
worker could publicly take such a stance for fear of antagonizing the FSA's
powerful political opponents.
Publicly, the official FSA position toward the camp newspaper and
toward the struggle between unions and growers was neutral. Whenever
the newspapers and their control were mentioned, public relations officer
Frederick Soule stressed that the papers were "community institutions
over which the Farm Security Administration has no control."57 However,
in practice, the two qualities most characteristic of the FSA camp manag-
88 Hamilton 'Winter 1999
ers — sympathy toward the workers' struggle for bargaining power, and the
goal of teaching migrants the ways of democratic self-reliance — allowed
the newspaper to work toward a far greater than intended range of goals.
Labor presence in the camp paper was sporadic, but it peaked
during the 1939 strike, assisted by Sam Birkhimer, the editor of the
newspaper by October 1939, and a UCAPAWA organizer.58 In addition
to explanatory essays about the purposes of the UCAPAWA and the
WA of A, he penned and printed accounts of how the organizing in the
fields was conducted as well as pep talks to try to maintain likely flagging
interest and support near its end.59
Developing Migrant Cultures
The newspaper therefore took shape within these sets of conditions.
It consisted of a single sheet, 8 inches wide and 15 inches deep. The
masthead was hand-drawn, and stories consisted of typed columns, with
copies produced by mimeograph.
Although conditions and the institutional support existed for the
formation of a migrant farmworker union and an alliance with the CIO,
the complexity of those labeled "Dust Bowl migrants" worked against
such formulaic responses. Historian James Gregory describes them as
"Southwestern 'plain-folk'," whose culture and outlook was linked to a
long-standing heritage of anti-monopoly and citizen-producer ideas,
agrarian and working class radicalism, and nationalist and sometimes
racist attempts to preserve the country's white male Protestant dominance.
As Gregory notes, catechisms in this heritage typically stressed "the
dignity of hard work and plain living and promised deliverance from the
forces of power, privilege, and moral pollution, near and far."60 Thus,
nationalism, populism, racism, and an often evangelical religiousness were
complexly blended.61
While sympathetic to critiques of industrialists and others in
authority, migrants also shared a belief in a white Protestant and an often
intensely patriotic nationalism, and, in this way, held deeply and simulta-
neously radical and conservative views.62 One can make sense of these
contradictions by understanding them in terms of individualism and
collectivism. By doing so, their social implications become clearer.
Intensely individualistic, their approach toward living stressed
individual strength and persistence — fitting the saying "God helps those
who help themselves." Individualism spawned such diverse responses to
often desperate living conditions as stoic fatalism and resignation, reluc-
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 89
tance or heated resistance to pressure to join a group, or the favoring of
disorganization rather than taking the chance of worsening one's lot
through aligning with the wrong people or the wrong cause.
Yet many also shared a collectivism in terms of a sentimental,
homespun regard for one's family, hometown, people, state, region and
nation. Where individualism typically underwrote inaction or resistance,
collectivism helped constitute a source of pride while it underwrote
voluntaristic activity. It legitimized taking pride in being American, an
"Okie" or "Arkie" (a term of derision turned into a term of pride when
used by a migrant), a member of a union, or as a farmer.
Individualism Versus Collectivism
Such a dynamic was the basis for contradictory responses to a
sociologist's interviews during the late 1 930s and early 1 940s with
migrants who lived in Kern County — some of whom lived for a time at
Camp Arvin, the camp at which the newspaper analyzed for this study
was produced.63 Even while professing pride as Americans, migrants still
advocated the kinds of ideas promoted by politically radical labor organiz-
ers to correct the injustices suffered in a failing American society.
If they cut that relief off in California they will have a
revolution in California. They'll [migrants will] fight fer
it, they always have .... And by-god I ain't no Communist,
but I may sound like one though.64
It also was the basis for conflict between generations. In 1936, a
supporter of organizing migrant labor noted this disagreement within one
family. Oklahoman Jim Killen, reported the writer, "believed in organiza-
tion as the devout believe in religion," although he was not entirely
committed to labor. However, there was substantial disagreement within
his family about the best attitude and action to take, indicating differing
generational, gender and political alignments in terms of individualism
and collectivism.
His brother talks violence; his father industrial democracy;
his mother mumbles.
His father: "There kaint be any recovery until the workingman
gets paid enough so he can buy what there is to sell."
His mother: "It's been worser than this in Oklahoma. There's
90 Hamilton •Winter 1999
been times when we'd been glad to work for 10 cents a day."
His brother: "Blast their God damn fields with dynamite."65
In the same way that they could be patriots while finding severe
faults with the American system, migrants could champion the cause of
labor while at the same time denouncing it. Many were skeptical of the
CIO because of its (as they put it) Communism, disorganization, lazy
members who joined only to avoid working, and high-rolling union
leaders' exploitation ot the rank-and-file. However, many also found value
in collective action as part of the union, which they saw as the only way to
bring about better pay, prevent starvation and help those on relief get
their fair share.66
Thus, collectivism - individualism as articulated within populist and
radical labor traditions comprised the cultural context of migrants'
activity. Migrants were not of a single mind, but instead rallied and
fragmented in contradictory ways, sharing with the FSA a patriotism and
the belief that migrants' problems in America were due to the corruption
of a sound, egalitarian political system rather than to defects inherent in
that system. The migrants shared with the UCAPAWA an anger at
migrants' economic subjugation. Their goal was to achieve, in Oklaho-
man, folk-singer and migrant- and labor-spokesman Woody Guthrie's
words, "a good job at honest pay," which would require widespread
changes in the status quo.67
What made this situation particularly complex was the fact that
points of agreement were also polarizing differences. Migrants often
chafed within the authoritarian, patriarchal FSA educational program,
which addressed symptoms rather than causes of the migrants' plight, and
this individualism complicated efforts by the portion of migrants who
were union-minded to build a collective consciousness that might become
the basis for collective political action.68 Also, despite the Popular Front
strategy of the Communist Party of America (CPUSA) which called for
collaboration with trade unions rather than revolution, the UCAPAWAs
revolutionary rhetoric offended many migrants' deep-seated faith in the
United States and confirmed their equally deep fear of "creeping"
communism.69
"Don't Be What You Ain't"
Although the FSA placed official notices of various kinds in the
newspaper (a perk from its role of providing support), most items came
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 91
from migrant farmworkers who lived in the camp. These contributions
took many forms, ranging from letters to the editor, anonymous gossip
columns, and one-liner jokes to lengthy essays about the labor situation.
By seeing these items in social terms, how they did or didn't fit with the
aim of organizing into a self-aware political force becomes clearer.
The individualism of migrant culture was expressed in a variety of
items, but, most evocatively, in verse which expressed a rugged, good-
natured self-sufficiency and unpretentiousness:
Don't be what you ain't
Jes' be what you is
If you is not what you am
Then you is not what you is
If you're just a little tadpole
Don't try to be a frog
If you're just a tail
Don't try to wag the dog.
You can always pass the plate
If you can't exhort and preach
If you're just a little pebble
Don't try to be the beach.
Don't be what you ain't
Jes' be what you is,
For the man who plays it square
Is a-goin' to get "his."
— Juanita Davis.70
This often became a fatalism, underscored by religious resignation,
such as in a poem that concluded: "It is not for us to understand / Just
leave it all in jessus (sic) hand."71
Individualistic items also addressed the specific situation of farm
laborers in California, but they often took the form of personal statements
that justified only individual actions. Reluctance to appear "uppity" by
telling others what to do undercut their collective potential, such as in a
personal statement by a farmworker with a family who, during the 1 938
strike, mentioned the inequity of some people staying out only for a few
days, then returning to work in the fields before the strike achieved its
goals. As he explains, "I don't know whether to call them scabs or not,"
because they had to work to get food to eat. He concludes that his family
has enough food to hold out longer, and that "my family has no intention
92 Hamilton 'Winter 1999
of going back to the cotton fields until this strike is over," thereby explain-
ing his reasoning only for himself and his family, which others could take
or leave.72 Such reluctance to tell others what to think and what to do —
and regarding such people as bossy and know-it-alls — ran deeply in many
items, such as a poem that poked fun at "grumblers," who complained
about everything. The advice given to people who were confronted with
grumblers was to "turn a deaf ear, and pretend you can't hear."73
Calls for Collectivism Failed
However, as organized action can only take place and be represented
in collective terms, cultural forms that presented the common situation
and case were essential for this mobilization to have a chance. The editor
of August 1939 appealed to migrants for more contributions to the
newspaper, and her explanation suggests the general awareness of the
ability of newspaper items to evoke common experience.
If you've been moved, either to laugh or cry by something
that's happened to you or around you, it's pretty certain
that some of your neighbors would be moved in the same
way if they saw the story in print.74
With some exceptions, the potential of working collectively for
change was never realized. Although collectivist appeals were often made,
such expressions either did not address the immediate, concrete situation;
were simplified (and therefore easily discounted as empty slogans or pie-
in-the-sky wishes); or were too abstract, therefore not linking effectively
the day-to-day working reality of individual migrants with the structural
conditions of subjugation.
Collective calls that did not address the specific situation attempted
to organize migrants socially, but not in the service of labor activism.
Many migrants saw no necessary role for a radical critique of the United
States' political and economic system, and items in the newspaper that
expressed this version of collectivism, such as the poem that follows, did
so in uncritical terms.
Makes no difference where you wander,
Makes no difference where you roam.
You don't have to stop and ponder,
For a place to call your home.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 93
When they ask you where you were born lad,
Speak right up - be proud to say,
That your home's the land of Uncle Sam,
The good old U.S.A.
— A Camper.75
A collective-minded religious confession in verse also countered
individualism, but in a way that made the current, earthly situation
irrelevant when compared to greater goals.
Lord help me live from day to day,
In such a self and helpful way,
That when I kneel to pray,
my prayers may help others.
Help me Lord in all the works I do,
To ever be sincere and true,
And know that all I do for you,
must need be done for others.
— Mrs. Shatwell.76
Appeals that simplified the situation did not address the depth of
the problem or the difficulty of the solution. For example, after a writer
notes the inequity of cotton growers getting $14 per hundredweight
while those who pick it get 75 cents, he concludes that the industry sets
the price and that, only if workers were organized, "your trouble would be
over."77 Another item on the same page concludes "you people who are
picking this 80 cent cotton surely can't expect a lot of favors from the
good people of California." The solution was simply to "wake up and git
in line don't sleep all your life."78
Poems and song lyrics urged migrant laborers to "get off the row"
and join the CIO.79 Reprinted lyrics to songs sung on the picket lines as
well as those penned by Woody Guthrie appeared often.80 Some of these
songs parodied or appropriated others, such as in "Associated Farmer Has
a Farm."81 Hand-drawn pictures were used as well, such as one example
that consisted of the head and shoulders of Woody Guthrie, with a
caption: "The Dust Bowl Kid says: Prices is High wages Low I A man that
would pick / 80 cents cotton is a slave / and nothing more! — Woody."82
But, whatever value they may have had in terms of momentary morale,
none served as a deeper critique which might have sparked sustained
resistance.
94 Hamilton 'Winter 1999
Examples of simplified and abstract appeals include a series of self-
described "weekly letters from the editor" which were penned by a recent
arrival to Camp Arvin from another camp nearby and appeared during
the 1939 strike. His aim was to "explain what different organized groups
are and what they stand for," beginning with the Workers Alliance of
America and continuing with the UCAPAWA. Overall goals of the
WA of A were to "bring about real economic recovery, to assure useful
work at decent wages for all willing workers, to promote greater purchas-
ing power among the people and to provide real social security for all" —
laudable, yet entirely future, abstract goals that spoke little to farmworkers
concerned with where to find food immediately.83
Later the same month, the editor attempted to explain how unions
work by using examples such as how a team of horses can accomplish
more by working together and how a car runs well when all parts are
working. Such appeals still did not explain why it continued to be so
difficult to organize, instead simply proposing "wouldn't it be wonderful if
we were all joined together in one or more organizations and cooperated
with each other in times like we are not having."84
The key to producing a collective consciousness was not in ignoring
individualism or in simply asserting an automatic, abstract collectivism,
but in overcoming the polarization altogether by recognizing migrants'
situation as, paradoxically, a collective experience of alienation. Wander-
ing and working as a purposeless, isolated individual was a typical theme
of individualistic items, yet some items were able to dramatize alienation
as a collective experience encouraged by specific conditions.
One of the few examples of this is a remarkable verse titled "Cotton
Fever" which depicted the alienating experience of toiling as an individual
in the cotton fields. Its form is a square dance call. The square dance was
the primary cultural form of popular (as opposed to authoritarian)
gatherings. Weekly square dances that attracted workers from camps miles
around were staples of camp life. In this way, its use relied upon the
intimate knowledge of all farmworkers. However, this square dance was
not for enjoyment. The caller was not a person, but cotton bolls, setting
the cadence and dictating pickers' every move. The poem ends with the
cotton bolls still calling, reminding the pickers that this life was hard, but
that this work was better than dying as a pauper, which would put one's
surviving relatives into debt. Farm labor in current conditions was the
only choice allowed.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 95
COTTON FEVER
Along the road on either side
Cotton green and two miles wide.
Fields fan out in rows string-straight,
And a boll flings out his wadded bait
And grins at me and seems to say:
"You'll be a grabbin' at me one day
At six bits a hundred weight."
Then the bolls started rustling,
Shouting in the air
Just like as if they was callin'
Off a square:
"Chase that possum, chase that coon,
Chase that cotton boll around the moon.
Crawl down a row and stand up straight
On a six-bit whirl for a hundred weight
Hunker on along and grab 'er all around.
Lint's heaped up an' a record yield;
Gin's chuck full so gin 'er in the field.
You can live on the land till the
Day you die, —
Jus' as long as you leave when the
Crops laid by.
So pick 'er on down to the end in the gloam,
Then swing up your sack and promenade home.
Meet your baby, pat him on the head
Feed him white beans an' a piece of corn bread.
No need to worry, he'll go freight —
At jus' six bit a hundered weight."
And so I mosey down the hill
Cotton bolls a-callin' still:
"At Long Row's End the Boss Man wait,
Nail you up in a wooden crate.
At six bits a hundered livin's hard,
But dyin's dear in the County Yard —
At twenty-five bucks a hundered weight!"
— A Camper.85
% Hamilton* Winter 1999
Migrants earned money in the cotton fields, but precious little of it
and at the price of dehumanization. They best fit this system when they
didn't think, but just listened to the call of the bolls and worked as
isolated individuals. It was a "fever," a sign of sickness, not of well-being.
No other item worked culturally in the same way as this verse.
Similar poems about working in the fields neglected to talk about the
relationship between workers and conditions, emphasizing instead
individual reactions to it.86 Others criticized corrupt institutions, such as
"the kept press," but neglect to link migrants' everyday experience to the
case. The issue of why a corrupt, commercial press matters to migrant
farmworkers who are wholly concerned with simply feeding their families
from day to day was never broached.87 Although a cultural solution to the
problem of organization momentarily surfaced, it was far too little and far
too late.
Keys to Cultural Change
Upon the end of the 1939 growing season and the onset of WW II,
the institutional milieu changed substantially. Many conditions and
developments caused the UCAPAWA's provisional presence to wane. The
continual problem of organizing migrant farmworkers was never solved,
and CIO head John Lewis' disinterest in it made finding a solution even
more difficult.88 CPUSA moral credibility was seriously impaired by the
signing of the non-aggression pact between the Soviets and the Nazis.
Combined with the wartime improvement in the nation's economy
(which meant large numbers of new war-related jobs for unskilled workers
in southern California), and increased nationalism which undercut
oppositional positions, labor's appeal and effect in the California fields
was generally neutralized.89 After the high season of 1939, labor activity
quickly dissipated.
The FSA stepped into the void left by the collapsed labor move-
ment. Under constant threat of congressionally mandated disbandment,
the FSA opportunistically settled on a new, unassailably patriotic goal of
aiding wartime food production.90 Consequently, the FSA became far less
tolerant of migrant uses of the newspaper that were contrary to this new
purpose. With organized labor virtually gone from the institutional scene
and disinterest in aiding the new FSA goal tantamount to being labeled a
traitor, the FSA soon exercised its authority unopposed. From the end of
1939 to the end of the camp newspaper in 1942, with the collapse of the
influence of organized labor and the radical left, hegemonic identification
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 97
of migrants with the FSA and the existing American political system was
largely achieved.
The fashioning of a cultural means of bridging the contradiction
between individualism and collectivism and rallying it for political
organization constituted a need that, with only a few exceptions, was not
met. Migrant resistance was at most unorganized, with union organizers
more often scrambling after wildcat strikes than planning them.91 The
case described in this study suggests that such failures were not due only
to lack of resources (although money to support strikes was always in
short supply), living and working conditions that weren't as bad as many
portray them to be (they were often far worse), or the strength of the
status quo (which was sizable), but in a failure of a means by which
migrants could embody the situation culturally, organize, and work to
change it.
Endnotes
'Widely read and cited examinations/polemics include Carey McWilliams, Factories in the Field;
The Story of Migratory Farm Labor in California (Boston: Little, Brown, 1939); John Steinbeck, The
Grapes ofWrath (New York: The Viking Press, 1939); and the tremendous volume of photographs
generated by Roy Stryker, Dorothea Lange, and others photographers of the Farm Security
Administration, which appeared in popular magazines and newspapers across the country. See Carl
Fleischhauer and Beverly W. Brannan, (eds.), Documenting America, 1935-1943 (Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1988).
2Mc Williams, Factories; James Gregory, American Exodus; The Dust Bowl Migration and Okie
Culture in California (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), 3-35; U.S., Congress, Senate,
Committee on Education and Labor, Violations of Free Speech and Rights of Labor, reprint ed. (New
York: Arno Press, 1975); Walter J. Stein, "A New Deal Experiment with Guided Democracy: The FSA
Migrant Camps in California," Canadian Historical Papers 1970, 132-146; James Hamilton,
"Educating Patriots, Recruiting Radicals: The Migrant Camp Newspaper at Arvin, California,"
Communication 13 (1993), 255-275.
'More moved in the 1920s than in the 1930s, but circumstances had changed drastically.
McWilliams, Factories, 7-8, 293; S. Rexford Black, Report on the California State Labor Camps (San
Francisco: California State Unemployment Commission, 1932), 9; Don Mitchell, The Lie of the Land;
Migrant Workers and the California Landscape (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996).
4See, for example, David Ralph Spencer, "Rhymes and Reasons: Canadian Victorian Labor
Journalism and the Oral Tradition," Journal of Communication Inquiry 16 (Winter 1992): 72-90; and
various essays in Hanno Hardt and Bonnie Brenncn. eds . Ntutuvrken, Toward a History of the Rank
and File (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 1995)
5For greater depth, see James Hamilton, "(Re)Wrmng Communities Dust-Bow! Migrant Identities
and the Farm Security Administration Camp Newspaper at Arvin, California, 1938-1942," (Ph.D.
diss., University of Iowa, 1993)-
6With a similar intention, Todd Gitlin investigates the ft agmrntation of left politics in the last 25
years, with the hope of identifying resources for its renewal See The Twilight of Common Dreams
(New York: Metropolitan Books, 1995). See also David Trend, "Rethinking Media Activism: Why the
Left is Losing the Culture War," Socialist Review 23:2 (1993): 5-33.
7Hyman Berman, "Communism and the Frontier Tradition," European Contributions to American
98 Hamilton • Winter 1999
Studies 16 (1989): 139, 148. See also Eric Foner, "Why is There No Socialism in the United States?,"
History Workshop Journal 17 (1984): 57-80. Agricultural radicals often aligned with various forms of
anarchism, while industrial activists were more often aligned with collective action, and this difference
has a long heritage. For an analysis of this conflict during the late 19th Century, see Theodore
Saloutos, "Radicalism and the Agrarian Tradition," in Failure of a Dream? Essays in the History of
American Socialism, rev. ed., John H.M. Laslett and Seymour Martin Lipsett, eds. (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1984), 52-81.
8Evidence of the continued problems includes Gregory, Exodus, 102-20; Susan Ferriss and Ricardo
Sandoval, The Fight In The Fields: Caesar Chavez And The Farmworkers Movement (New York :
Harcourt Brace, 1997); Richard Griswold del Castillo and Richard A. Garcia, Caesar Chavez: A
Triumph Of Spirit (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1995); and Ronald B. Taylor, Chavezand
the Farm Workers (Boston: Beacon Press 1975). An early bibliography of the movement is Beverly
Fodell, Caesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers; A Selective Bibliography (Detroit: Wayne State
University Press, 1974).
The run of the Arvin camp newspaper is in places very sparse, due to uneven publication and
somewhat haphazard preservation. Largely complimentary holdings of surviving issues are held at the
National Archives-Pacific Sierra Region in San Bruno, California and at the University of California
at Berkeley.
l0No end-date for the newspaper is listed in The National Union Catalog Pre- 1956 Imprints, v. 617
(Chicago: American Library Association, 1979), 661. The most recent issue that can be located is
dated 5 February 1942.
"Camp Arvin was a continuation of an existing State of California camp. See State Relief
Administration of California, Division of Special Surveys and Studies, Migratory Labor in California
(San Francisco: State Relief Administration of California, 1936); Albert Crouch, Housing Migratory
Agricultural Workers in California, 1919-1948 (Ph.D. diss., University of California, 1948; reprint San
Francisco: Rand E Associates, 1975).
12Camp newspapers were circulated among the various camps. U.S. Department of Agriculture,
Farm Security Administration, Report of the Farm Security Administration, 1941 (Washington, D.C.:
U.S. Department of Agriculture, Farm Security Administration, 1941), 38; Jerome Wilcox,
correspondence with Frederick Soule, 9 April and 12 April 1940; File 163-01, "Genl (Jan. to June
1940] [1]"; General Correspondence, 1940-42; Farm Security Administration, San Francisco/
Berkeley; Records of the Farm Security Administration, Record Group 96; National Archives — Pacific
Sierra Region, San Bruno, California [hereafter referred to as General Correspondence, FSA];
Katherine Deitz, "Community and Family Services Activities Described in Narrative Reports from
Regions VI and XII, 1941"; File 934, "Jan 1935-1939 Dec. inclusive [1]"; General Correspondence,
FSA. In an August 1936 report to FSA Region IX director Jonathon Garst, sociologist EricThomsen
emphasized the importance of the pioneering efforts of Thomas Collins, the initial manager of Camp
Arvin, in conceiving of and putting together not only the Camp Arvin educational program, but the
value such efforts have for camps to follow: "I can't help [but] think of Collins' work as absolutely
standard-forming; I can think of no possibility of setting up a desirable camp program for migratory
workers anywhere which ignores the basic principles that govern Collins' work. . ." See Eric Thomsen,
"Preliminary Report on Arvin Migratory Camp," 3 August 1936; File RF-CF-16-918, "Arvin, reports
prior 7-1-40"; Coded Administration Camp Files, 1933-45 — Arvin; Farm Security Administration,
San Francisco/Berkeley, Record Group 96, Records of the Farm Security Administration, National
Archives — Pacific Sierra Region, San Bruno, California [hereafter cited as Arvin Camp Records]. For
more on the educational program and its development, see Stein, "New Deal Experiment"; and
Hamilton, "Educating Patriots."
,3Devra Weber, Dark Sweat, White Gold; California Farm Workers, Cotton, and the New Deal
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 165, 181.
"Weber, Dark Sweat, 153-161.
15Weber, Dark Sweat, 1 83; Linda C. Majka and Theo J. Majka, Farmworkers, Agribusiness, and the
State (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1982), 128-129.
"United States, Department of Labor, Bureau of Labor Statistics, Labor Unionism in American
Agriculture, by Stuart Jamieson, Bulletin No. 836 (Washington: GPO, 1945; reprint New York: Arno
Press, 1975); Cletus E. Daniel, Bitter Harvest; A History of California Farmworkers, 1870-1941
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1981); and Majka and Majka, Farmworkers.
l7For example, James D. Starrt and William David Sloan argue that interpretations should arise
from the material rather than be imposed upon it {Historical Methods in Mass Communication
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 99
(Hillsdale: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1989), 19-39). However, although this advice is in a more basic sense
to not use a theory rigidly, the situation is more complex than these and other commentators make it
out to be. How they decide which facts are more relevant than others is by relying on a theoretical
perspective to sift the relevant from the non-relevant, however implicit that perspective may be. That
all historical writing is from a theoretical perspective is persuasively argued in James A. Henretta,
"Social History as Lived and Written," American Historical Review 84 (December 1979): 1293-1323;
Hanno Hardt and Bonnie Brennen, "Introduction: Communication and the Question of History,"
Communication Theory 3 (May 1993), 130-136; and Hanno Hardt, "Without the Rank and File:
Journalism History, Media Workers, and Problems of Representation," in Hardt and Brennen, eds.,
Newsworkers, 1-29-
18Examples of traditional perspectives used in similar topics include John Stevens, "From Behind
Barbed Wire: Freedom of the Press in World War II Japanese Center," Journalism Quarterly 48
(Summer 1971): 279-287; Jay Friedlander, "Journalism Behind Barbed Wire, 1941-1942: An
Arkansas Relocation Camp Newspaper," Journalism Quarterly 62:2 (1985): 243-246, 271; and Lauren
Kessler, "Fettered Freedoms: The Journalism of World War II Japanese Internment Camps,"
Journalism History 15:2/3 (1988): 70-79.
"Of course, there are many cultural perspectives, and quite a number of disagreements between
them. Among the many discussions, see Paul Duncum, "Approaches to Cultural Analysis," Journal of
American Culture 10:2 (1987): 1-15; Stuart Hall, "The Rediscovery of 'Ideology': Return of the
Repressed in Media Studies," in Culture, Society and the Media, reprint ed. (New York and London:
Routledge, 1988), 56-90; and Raymond Williams, "The Uses of Cultural Theory," New Left Review
158 Ouly/August 1986): 19-31.
20James Carey, "A Cultural Approach to Communication," in Communication and Culture (Boston:
Unwin Hyman, 1989), 18-19.
2lAlthough a variety of cultural approaches are gaining currency, most studies in journalism history
work from behaviorist, functionalist, or idealist perspectives, explicitly or not. See Hanno Hardt,
"Newsworkers, Technology, and Journalism History," Critical Studies in Mass Communication 7
(1990): 346-365. Of relevance to this study is the work of Raymond Williams — in particular
Marxism and Literature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977) — and of the Bakhtin Circle and
commentaries upon it, especially Mikhail Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays, ed. Michael
Holquist, transl. Caryl Emerson and Michael Holquist (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), V.N.
Voloshinov, Marxism and the Philosophy of Language, transl. Ladislav Matejka and I.R. Titunik
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1986), and Michael Gardiner, The Dialogics of Critique; M.M.
Bakhtin and the Theory of Ideology (London: Routledge, 1992).
"Williams, Marxism and Literature, 187-188.
"Ibid., 166.
"Ibid.
25Ibid., 165.
"Consistent with the notion that communication simply reflects reality, Gregory cites traditional
structural-functional, Parsonian sources for his conceptions of culture and ethnicity. See Gregory,
American Exodus, 304, fn 30.
27Most edited collections are a result of this preference. An example is "Yours for the Revolution";
The Appeal to Reason, 1895-1922 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), which is a valuable
collection of essays, but not of alternative forms. Of course, collections of labor songs of the 1930s
exist, such as Alan Lomax, ed., Hard-Hitting Songs for Hard-Hit People (New York: Oak Publications,
1967), but they await their Eric Foner and their version of Foner's work American Labor Songs of the
Nineteenth Century (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1975), and they are generally not addressed
as part of a scholarly exploration into working-class consciousness. A landmark study that takes this
view is E.P. Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class (New York: Vintage, 1966).
28odd Gitlin makes a similar point when addressing the cultural role of rock-and-roll music in the
student movements of the 1960s. See Gitlin, The Sixties; Years of Hope, Days of Rage (New York:
Bantam, 1987), esp. 195-221.
"Gabriel Kolko, Main Currents in Modern American History (New York: Harper and Row, 1976;
reprint, New York: Pantheon Books, 1984), 147.
3CStandard works include David Brundage, The Making of Western Labor Radicalism: Denver's
Organized Workers, 1878-1905 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1994); Melvyn Dubofsky, We
Shall Be All; A History of the Industrial Workers of the World (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1969); and
1 00 Hamilton • Winter 1999
Philip Foner, The Industrial Workers of the World, 1905-1917 (New York: International Publishers,
1965)- Cultural investigations include Stewart Bird, Dan Georgakas, and Deborah Shaffer, Solidarity
Forever: An Oral History of the IWW (Chicago: Lake View Press, 1985), and Salvatore Salerno, Red
November, Black November: Culture and Community in the Industrial Workers of the World (Albany:
State University of New York Press, 1989). Of particular relevance to the topic of this study are such
sources as Songs of the Workers: On the Road in the Jungles and in the Shops (Spokane: The Industrial
Worker, [191-?]) and The Complete Joe Hill Song Book (Stockholm: Prisma/FIBs Lyrikklubb, 1969).
3lMajka and Majka, Farm Workers, 74, 85; and Vicki L. Ruiz, Cannery Women, Cannery Lives;
Mexican Women, Unionization, and the California Food Processing Industry, 1930-1950 (Albuquerque:
University of New Mexico Press, 1987).
32 Bitter Harvest; 258-261, 273-281.
33Mc Williams, Factories; Paul S. Taylor and Tom Vasey, "Historical Background of California Farm
Labor," Rural Sociology 1 (June 1936), 281-295; Paul S. Taylor and Tom Vasey, "Contemporary
Background of California Farm Labor," Rural Sociology 1 (December 1936), 401, 404; Alan L.
Olmstead and Paul Rhode, "An Overview of California Agricultural Mechanization, 1870-1930,"
Agricultural History 62 (Summer 1988), 86-1 12.
34McWilliams, Factories.
35Jamieson, Labor Unionism, Daniel, Bitter Harvest, Majka and Majka, Farm Workers.
3'Sidney Baldwin, Poverty and Politics; The Rise and Decline of the Farm Security Administration
(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1968).
37Klehr points out that, despite the important alliance of Comintern with the CIO during the
1930s, its role could hardly be described as dominant or even unproblematic. See Harvey Klehr, The
Heyday of American Communism; The Depression Decade (New York: Basic Books, 1984), 136-146,
223-251- See also Harvey A. Levenstein, Communism, Anti-Communism, and the CIO (Westport:
Greenwood, 1981.)
38Majka and Majka, Farmworkers, 128-129.
3,James L. McCamy, Government Publicity; Its Practice in Federal Administration (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1939).
40Elliott Shore, Talkin Socialism: J.A. Wayland and the Role of the Press in American Radicalism,
1890-1912 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1988), 94-1 14.
41 Hamilton, "Educating Patriots"; Stein, "New Deal Experiment."
42EricThomsen, "Why Plan Security for the Migratory Laborer?" (paper presented to the
California Conference of Social Work, San Jose, 12 May 1937), National Agricultural Library,
Bethesda, Maryland. The global case is summarized in Eric Hobsbawm, The Age of Extremes (New
York: Pantheon, 1994), 85-108.
43Stein, "New Deal Experiment"; Hamilton, "Educating Patriots."
"Baldwin, Poverty and Politics.
45Stein, "New Deal Experiment," 133; Mc Williams, Factories, 294-300.
46The overall situation (from a reformer's point of view) is described in McWilliams, Factories, 152-
211.
47By 1938, the economy was sluggishly recovering from a recession, and by 1939 Congress was
moving aggressively to dismantle the New Deal. See William E. Leuchtenberg, Franklin D. Roosevelt
and the New Deal 1932-1940 (New York: Harper and Row, 1963), 265-272.
46"Camp to Have a Weekly Paper" Weedpatch Cultivator, 2 September 1938, 1. "Weed Patch" was
the name of the camp when it was under state management.
^Weedpatch Cultivator, 2 September 1938, 1. Direct quotations from the newspaper are quoted or
referred to insofar as they exemplify the use of specific forms. They are reproduced verbatim, except in
cases were minimal clarification in punctuation or spelling is needed.
50Ibid.
51Ibid.; Katherine Dietz, "Some Worthwhile Things a Council Can Do," File 934, "[Jan. 1940-May
1940]"; General Correspondence, FSA.
"Jerome Wilcox to Frederick Soule, 12 April 1940, file 163-01, "Genl [Jan. to June 1940] [1],"
General Correspondence, FSA.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 101
"Charles Todd, "The 'Okies" Search for a Lost Frontier," The New York Times Magazine, 27 August
1939: 10-1 1, 17; Frederick Soule to John Fischer, 2 August 1939, File 160, "Public Relations,
General, Jan. 1939-Dec. 1939," General Correspondence, FSA.
54R.L. Adams, "Agricultural Labor Requirements and Supply, Kern County," (Berkeley: Giannini
Foundation of Agricultural Economics, 1940), 6; Irving Bernstein, Turbulent Years: A History of the
American Worker, 1933-1941 (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1969) 144; Frederick Soule to Jerome
Wilcox, 19 October 1939, file RF-CF-25-160, "Arvin; Public relations," Arvin Camp Records; Fred
W. Ross to Frederick Soule, 29 September 1939, file RF-CF-25-160, "Arvin; Public relations," Arvin
Camp Records.
"Majka and Majka, Farm Workers, 111, 127-129; Weber, Dark Sweat, 164-165-
5<;Ibid. Examples of privately held sentiments suppressed publicly include Collins' refusal to review
Mc Williams' book Factories in the Field. See Thomas Collins to L.W Harvison, 15 September 1939,
file 160, "Public Relations, General, Jan. 1939-Dec. 1939," General Correspondence. Unofficially,
however, Factories in the Field and The Grapes ofWrath were highly regarded by the FSA. See Frederick
Soule to John Fischer, 2 August 1939; and John Fischer to Frederick Soule, 1 June 1939, 8 August
1939, and 8 September 1939, File 160, "Public Relations, General, Jan. 1939-Dec. 1939," General
Correspondence.
57Frederick Soule to Jerome Wilcox, 4 December 1939, File 163-01, "Newspapers and magazines,
article and press releases, Jan. 1939-Dec. 1939," General Correspondence.
58Walter Stein, California and the Dust Bowl Migration (Wesport: Greenwood Press, 1973), 252.
Birkhimer and his family had been in California for three years, and he had started a chapter of the
Workers' Alliance at Camp Indio in 1938. "Wage Hearing is Held," untitled letter, Towsack Tattler, 29
September 1939, 4; "This and That," Towsack Tattler, 6 October 1939, 9.
"Sam Birkhimer, "Our Strike," Towsack Tattler, 28 October 1939, 4-5; Birkhimer, "Our Strike," 17
November 1939, 5-
'"Gregory, American Exodus, 1 4 1 - 1 42 .
"Weber, Dark Sweat, 137-151.
"Ibid., 150-154.
63James Bright Wilson, "Social Attitudes of Certain Migratory Agricultural Workers in Kern
County, California" (MA. thesis, University of Southern California, 1942).
"Ibid., 277.
65"Shafter- Wasco potatoe [sic] district, Kern Co. 5-6/36"; folder "History of AFL Agricultural
Unions"; carton 6, "FSA"; Simon J. Lubin Society Papers, Bancroft Library, University of California,
Berkeley.
"Wilson, "Social Attitudes," 322-343.
67Guthrie uttered this phrase often. One place it appeared in the camp paper was in untitled, Tow-
Sack Tattler, 28 October 1939, 3.
68Majka and Majka, Farm Workers, 130-132; Sheila Goldring Manes, "Depression Pioneers: The
Conclusion of an American Odyssey; Oklahoma to California, 1930-1950, A Reinterpretation,"
(Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1982), 3; and Wilson, "Social Attitudes."
65Wilson, "Social Attitudes," 332-333; John Diggins, The Rise and Fall of the American Left (New
York: Norton, 1992), 173-174; Levenstein, Communism, 36.
70"Be What You Is," Weed Patch Cultivator, 1 1 November 1938, 1. This poem appeared widely in
other migrant labor camp newspapers. See Gregory, American Exodus, 1 52.
7,"Leave It In Jesus's Hand," Weed Patch Cultivator, 12 May 1939, 2. Early in the camp's existence,
manager Tom Collins also commented in a weekly report on the religious core of migrant fatalism:
"The campers 'Trust in the Lord.' That is good of course, [. . .] However we cannot encourage them
to become dependent with the hope that the ravens will feed them or that Jonah will come along with
his whale and swallow all their troubles." See Thomas Collins, "Kern Migratory Labor Camp, Report
for week ending March 7, 1936," 7; file RF CF 26 918-01, "Arvin [Report] [March 1936]"; Arvin
Camp Records.
72"To Them This May Concern," Weed Patch Cultivator, 21 October 1938, 1.
73"'A Grumbler'," Weed Patch Cultivator, 1 1 November 1938, 2.
74"Prize for Best Poem or Idea," Tow-Sack Tattler, 24 August 1939, 1.
1 02 Hamilton • Winter 1 999
""'Wandering'," Weed Patch Cultivator, 21 October 1938, 2.
7<sUntitled, Weed Patch Cultivator, 21 October 1938, 2. Another example is "What Do They Say!,"
Weed Patch Cultivator, 25 November 1938, 2. The religious nature of migrant culture is noted in
depth by Wilson, "Social Attitudes," 359-375, and summarily by Gregory, American Exodus, 150.
Such items appeared most often during major Christian holidays. For examples, see "'Bible Reading',"
Weed Patch Cultivator, 30 December 1938, 2; "Bible reading for the week:- Acts-20-19 to 21," Weed
Patch Cultivator, 27 January 1939, 3; and "Bible Reading of the Week," Weed Patch Cultivator, 3
February 1939, 3.
^"Here Goes don't Git in a Hurry and Stracks Back," Tow-Sack Tattler, 6 October 1939, 4.
78Untitled, Tow-Sack Tattler, 6 October 1939, 4.
''Untitled, Tow-Sack Tattler, 20 October 1939, 3- Woody Guthrie, who noted that he had "made
the Arvin Camp lots of times with the old trusty guitar, and listened to the Campers sing in their
churches and at their dances, and pie suppers and speakins," later set this verse to music. In a
published collection of songs in which it was included, Guthrie mentioned hearing "a little fourteen
year old boy's poem called 'I'd Ruther To Die on My Feet than Live on My Knees . . .' Can you beat
that? No, you can't. It leapt out of this boy's mind like a young mountain lion, and the road was lined
with cops in their big black sedans, laughing, grunting, and talking, and a listening to jazz music on
their radios." The 14-year-old boy — George Tapp — also authored the cited poem. See Lomax,
Hard Hitting Songs, 225-
80"Join the Union," Tow-Sack Tattler, 28 October 1939, 16; "'Greenback Dollar' (streamlined),"
Tow-Sack Tattler, 11 November 1939, 4.
81It was signed "composed by Bill Kindle, Omah Colo and Ruby Rains." See "Associated Farmer
Has a Farm," Tow-Sack Tattler, 17 November 1939, 7. It was Guthrie's tactic as well to "take old folk
songs or tunes and write new words to them and to rework the melody when necessary." See Guy
Logsdon, introduction to Woody Sez, by Woody Guthrie (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1975), xiv.
"Untitled, Tow-Sack Tattler, 1 1 November 1939, 10. As Guthrie was an accomplished illustrator in
the homey style of this illustration, it is likely that Guthrie drew it and signed it. At least one notice
appeared of an impending visit of Guthrie and Hollywood actor Will Geer to the Arvin Camp. See
"Woody and Gear [sic] to Entertain," Tow-Sack Tattler, 22 September 1939, 2.
83" Weekly Letter from the Editor," Tow-Sack Tattler, 6 October 1939, 2; "Weekly Letter from the
Editor," Tow-Sack Tattler, 13 October 1939, 4.
""Editor's Weekly Letter," Tow-Sack Tattler, 20 October 1939, 2.
85"Cotton Fever," Tow-Sack Tattler, 24 August 1939, 5- Cotton was weighed and pickers were paid
by "hundredweight" — 100 pounds of picked cotton. The common price for a hundredweight was
75 cents, hence the "six bits." The "tow-sack" of the newspaper's title is the fabric bag dragged by the
picker in which picked cotton was placed prior to dumping it out to get paid.
86For example, see "Pea Picking Blues," 8 September 1939, 1; and "Just Around the Corner," Tow-
Sack Tattler, 29 September 1939, 3.
87"Only the Kept Press," Tow-Sack Tattler, 8 September 1939, 3-
88Levenstein, Communism (68) notes that Lewis lent little support to the UCAPAWA. In January
1938, he stopped CIO aid.
8'Bert Cochran, Labor and Communism; The Conflict that Shaped American Unions (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1977), 143-144. An able overview is Anthony J. Badger, The New Deal;
The Depression Years, 1933-1940 (New York: Noonday, 1989), 286-290; Ruiz, Cannery Women, 55;
Daniel, Bitter Harvest, 281.
'"Baldwin, Poverty and Politics, 325-33 1 . The FSA's stance toward its programs can be labeled one
of "careful liberalism" — meaning advocating change, but without antagonizing and putting into
danger its increasingly scarce Congressional support. The source of the phrase (and a brief overview of
the administrative milieu of the FSA) is Nicholas Alfred Natanson, "Politics, Culture and the FSA
Black Image" (Ph.D. diss., University of Iowa, 1988), 100.
"Jamieson, Labor Unionism.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 103
104 Winter 1999
1998 Presidential Address
The Historiographical Tradition
in 20th Century America
By James D. Startt
Editor's Note: This President's Address was delivered on October 22, 1 998 at the annual
convention of the American Journalism Historians Association in Louisville, Kentucky.
Reports of the death of history, to paraphrase Mark Twain
are greatly exaggerated.1 Evidence to the contrary is over-
whelming. Consider the public reaction to the Smith-
sonian's exhibit on the Enola Gay and the end of World War II, or to the
recent report of the National Council for History Standards.2 In fact,
we encounter proof that history lives every day. The Constitution says
this, or our Founding Fathers believed that, or moving farther back in
time, Rome fell because of this. How often have we heard such state-
ments? Or how often have we heard Mr. Everyman say, "History proves
that. . . ." As Gerda Lerner comments: "All human beings are practic-
ing historians."3
There is, of course, no reason to think that ordinary references to
history are always wrong nor that references by scholars are always
correct. Nevertheless, myths about the past and history, invented for
purposes either innocent or ill, seem to acquire a reality of their own.
Misconceptions about the past abound, and knowledge about it is far
from complete. Considering the vastness of human experience, it could
not be otherwise, but that is no reason to think that one version of
history is as good as another. The state of present knowledge about the
past and adherence to the standards that assure each generation the
opportunity of knowing it make the difference. Historiography, used
here to mean the practice and principles of history, is about making that
difference.4
James D. Startt, Past President of the American Journalism Historians Association, is Senior
Research Professor of History at Valparaiso University.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 105
What Constitutes the Practice of History?
As historians we think seriously about history more than most
people do, but not more than we should. The same is true of historiogra-
phy, for few people pause to consider all that constitutes the practice of
history. That alone is an involved topic, but by restricting it to mean the
practice and principles associated with the practice of history, we reduce it
to manageable dimensions. Moreover, that limited meaning makes it
difficult to refute the claim that historians are "almost always historiogra-
phers."5 Of course we are, since we are aware of how we function in our
work.
In fact, we work at the current edge of an old historiographical
tradition with modern roots in this country going back to the late 19th
century and perhaps earlier. Since it influences our conscious effort to
engage our subject, consideration of that tradition is always pertinent for
historians. Where to start? Colonial Americans wrote a number of
histories, but they were mostly of the "saintly" or promotional variety.
The idea of mission that flourished in those histories would not be lost on
a later generation of American writers. Nevertheless, the modern historio-
graphical tradition had its origin elsewhere.
Historiography's Roots in Greece
It has roots traceable to ancient Greece. They reach back to
Herodotus and his famous history, The Persian Wars, which he wrote to
preserve "the remembrance of what men have done."6 In modern times,
Renaissance and Enlightenment scholars broke the hold religion had
gained over history in subsequent centuries and put into place elements
that would endure in its modern shape. We find, for instance, an En-
lightenment historian like David Hume beginning his famous History of
England with the promise that he would disregard "fables" and concen-
trate on those parts of history that can be "well ascertained."7 Hume's
great contemporary, Edward Gibbon, concurred with that sentiment and
declared in his Autobiography that "Truth — naked, unblushing truth"
must be "the first virtue of . . . serious history."8 Gibbon's monumental
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, one of the greatest historical works
in the English language, took him 20 years to research and write, and it
proves that the Age of Reason, which he personified, was also an age of
elegant style. His great work explored how institutions change over time,
included multiple causation, and offered interpretation.9 Consequently,
1 06 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
by the 19th century, an historic-graphical tradition began to acquire some
of the elements of shape familiar to us — focus on the object, the separa-
tion of history from philosophy, religion and fable, the search for truth
about the past, the presentation of history as a time conditioned inquiry,
and history as an interpretative but documented subject.
The European influence on the writing of American history has
continued to this day, and it was present in the 19th century, "The
Golden Age of History."10 American history flourished during the
"Golden Age," and while not discounting the European influence, it
manifested a genius of its own. Historians like George Bancroft and
Francis Parkman elevated history in this country to unprecedented levels.
These romantic-nationalist, patrician historians allowed current concepts
about nation and national mission to frame their historical consciousness,
and their works had powerful appeal. They reflected rigorous research
and skilled literary artistry and have lasting appeal, but were they objec-
tive? Toward the end of the century, a new group of historians gained
ascendancy and answered that question with a resounding "No."
Introducing Scientific History
These historians rejected the specious, dramatic history of their
patrician predecessors in favor of a more scientific explanation of the past.
Writing at a time when industry and urbanization were transforming the
nation and when the country was rising as a young power in the commu-
nity of states, these scholars sought to make history one of the growing
number of professionalizing inquiries. Moreover, the great expansion of
education at that time, especially in colleges and graduate schools,
afforded them the opportunity to do so. Like so much else at the time,
education acquired the prefix "new," and "new" meant scientific. To be
modern was to be scientific, and in education this impulse extended into
non scientific areas.
The new, "professional" or scientific historians, in contrast to the
"amateurs" of previous generations, found in the expanding graduate
schools an opportunity to devote themselves to full-time teaching and
writing, and under the banner of science they guided history into a more
narrow, in-depth, record and archive based enterprise. They introduced
the graduate seminar in history; in 1884 they inaugurated the American
Historical Association; in 1895, the American Historical Review.11 Influ-
enced by a number of European historians such as Henry Thomas Buckle,
Jacob Burckhardt, and mainly Leopold von Ranke, they became preoccu-
pied with objectivity, preferred dealing with institutions rather than
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 107
individuals, and chose to write specific monographs rather than the
sweeping historical narratives of the Parkman type.
The scientific historians thought of their work in contrast to that of
the older (or "old-fashioned") writers. Now historians examined a wide
variety of original sources in which they attempted to separate truthful
from questionable evidence. They claimed to march in step with the
"scientific and realistic spirit of the age in which" they lived.12 In their
works, a progressive national theme can be detected, and with the passing
of years their scope became somewhat wider than later critics would
acknowledge.13 It should also be noted that some of the historians who
wrote major works at the end of the century (e. g., James Ford Rhodes
and Theodore Roosevelt) cannot be considered members of the profes-
sional guild. It is, indeed, easy to exaggerate when discussing any school
of historians and the history written at the time it flourished. The same
can be said of Ranke, whom the early scientific historians so admired.
Latter day historians have often portrayed him in too narrow terms. His
greatest works were much broader than they allowed.
Regardless, having established history as an autonomous academic
field, the scientific historians discovered that they could not agree about
the identity that history should have. Some preferred to identify them-
selves as social scientists and to pursue a focused and presentist study of
"the State at rest" and "the State in action."14 They formed the American
Political Science Association in 1904. Others, though a minority, resisted
departure but considered themselves social scientists within history's ranks
with a mission to ally history to the social sciences.15 James Harvey
Robinson was their vanguard. In 1912, he published The New History in
which he argued that historians should approach the past in a selective
way that would allow it to serve the present, that rather than concentrat-
ing on political events they should broaden the scope of their inquiries,
and that they should "utilize the tools and concepts of the social scien-
tists."16 Like their more conservative associates, they did not question the
scientific base of history, nor did they think that the incompleteness and
relativity of the historical record made history less than scientific. In fact,
it had only been scientific if the word "science" was softened.
Scientific history was more of a common sense, realistic approach to
the past, and at a time when libraries and archives were growing, it was
based on comprehensively gathered and examined material. As one of its
founders put it, history was "truth about Conditions and Causes under
which and because of any person, institution, custom, or what-you-please
originated, developed, attained maturity, decayed. . . ."17 Once the
1 08 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
New Historians tried to depart from the quasi-scientific persuasions of
their elders, they were in trouble. Searching for specific laws, for scientific
uniformities, in history, they pushed the claims of scientific history too
far. Moreover, the contradiction between probing for history's regularities
while subordinating the pail to the present confused their cause.18
The New History Stresses Relativism
Their plight worsened as the relativist persuasion of Carl Becker
gained credence. Already in 1910 he began to turn his skepticism on the
foundation of scientific history and later made it the subject of his well-
known 1931 Presidential Address to the American Historical Association
(AHA), "Everyman His Own Historian."19 The cultural disillusionment
following World War I, confusions emanating from the Great Depression,
and the misuse of science practiced in Nazi Germany, called into question
confidence in scientific approaches to history, and stimulated interest in a
more relativist probing of the past.
Even the powerful spokesman of progressive history, Charles Beard,
came to bemoan the cause of the scientific history he had once champi-
oned. Now he insisted that the Rankean historical method was bankrupt.
"Slowly it dawns" upon the practitioners of that method, he said, that
"the human mind and the method employed were not competent to the
appointed task . . . that if all human affairs were reduced to law ... a
chief end of the quest, that is, human control over human occurrences
and actions, would itself become meaningless. Should mankind discover
the law of its total historical unfolding, then it would be imprisoned in its
own fate . . ."20
Nevertheless, the New History, with its stress on relativism, present-
mindedness, and on discovering the deeper forces that caused political
and social change, did enliven the debate about the shape of history. It
also distorted that debate. Objectivity versus subjectivity, the real past
versus the presentist past, and other such parings of opposites exaggerate
positions. All such terms rest on definition; few of the historians Beard
attacked had the positivist views of history that he suggested.
Controversy May Be Overstated
In retrospect, it is easy to overstate the place of controversies about
the methodology of the New History in shaping the practice of history in
this country during the first half of the 20th century. First of all, there is
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 109
the term the New History to question. Its origins can be found among
historians writing before Robinson, and it might be more accurate to label
most of his renowned contemporaries "progressive historians." Among
them were scholars like Frederick Jackson Turner, Charles A. Beard, and
Vernon Louis Parrington who did for the historiographical tradition, as
Richard Hofstadter argued, what the muckrakers did for journalism.2' In
the case of history, however, their progressive spirit remained predomi-
nant. The retreat from idealism and the widespread materialism of the
1 920s and the great economic travail of the 1 930s encouraged the
reformist bent of their writing until the eve of World War II.
Ironically, at the very time that the progressives' fondness for
stressing economic and political conflict in history became increasingly
unrealistic, it was Beard who demonstrated the limits of relativism by his
intemperate attacks on the Roosevelt administration, his failure to
understand that Hitlerian aggression in Europe was a concern of the
United States, and by his severe defense of isolationism. Thus, the New
History and progressive history, if a separation of terms is preferred,
ground to a halt with the return of world war. Some historians, more-
over, never did fit well into either category. Allan Nevins, for example,
the classic case of a journalist becoming an historian, emerged as a leading
figure among historians in the 1930s and wrote about business and
political leaders in an appreciative way uncommon to the progressive
writers.
There are other historiographical developments of this half century
that deserve recognition. There is the obvious expanding of the scope of
American history to acknowledge. During this 50 year period, for
instance, political, diplomatic, and economic history flourished and
gained broader definition while fields like intellectual, social, and labor
history experienced significant growth. Important work contributed to
the growing maturity of black history and women's history. Biographies
were numerous and popular. New scholarship stimulated interest in fields
like journalism history.22 Did the work of the great systematizers of
history like Oswald Spengler and Arnold Toynbee, which gained influence
in Europe after World War I, have a transatlantic impact? No. They may
have attracted interest, but most American historians resisted the deter-
minism and reductionism implicit in those grand theories.
The case of the influence of Marxism was different due to economic
conditions that begged for explanation and to the progressive historians'
fondness for economic and conflict interpretations. Marxism did have
some influence, mostly indirect and not in its complete form. Some
110 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
American scholars used parts of his theories in their interpretations and
responded to his emphasis on economics. But they shied away from his
dialectic materialism and the timeless, universal, and revolutionary
contentions of full-blown Marxism. As Carl Becker put it, "I have no
faith in the infallibility of any man, or any group of men, or of the
doctrines or dogmas of any man or group of men, except in so far as they
can stand the test of free criticism and analysis."23 Even Charles Beard,
renowned for his Economic Interpretation of the Constitution, denied that
his work was based on Marx.24 The great portion of the expanding
American history occurred with the help of orthodox methodology.
Journalists Expand the Public Appeal of History
Another development apparent by 1950 deserving of attention was
the fate of the historical narrative. Although the great narrative historians
wrote until the end of the 19th century, their style of writing failed to last
in the 20th. The early scientific historians, moreover, had a dulling effect
on history as literature. Already in 1912, Theodore Roosevelt addressed
this trend in his 1912 AHA Presidential Address. He deplored the way
science was deadening history and stated that the great appeal of a work
of history was "as a masterpiece of literature."25 While it is fair to say that
a pedantic trend had appeared and would continue in historical writing,
some of the leaders of the discipline resisted it. Without trying to emu-
late the Bancrofts and Parkmans, they insisted that good literary quality
be a standard of historical literature. Thomas A. Bailey, Samuel Eliot
Morison, Allan Nevins, the young Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., Walter
Prescott Webb, and C. Vann Woodward were among the historians
writing at this time who exemplified that idea.
Moreover, after World War I, a new audience of "middlebrow"
readers who appreciated nonfiction emerged. This afforded historians a
wonderful opportunity to widen their outreach. Some did, but it was
journalists who led in responding to this opportunity. Their production
of history and biography in the decades after World War I was remark-
able. The name Carl Sandburg, of course, comes to mind, for his biogra-
phy of Lincoln is a modern classic. Among others were: Frederick Lewis
Allen, Claude Bowers, Wilbur J. Cash, Douglas Southall Freeman,
Marquis James, Walter Millis, George Fort Milton, and Henry Pringle.
They all wrote outstanding history or biography while holding respon-
sible positions in journalism — a tribute to their industry and to their
passion for history.26
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 1 1 1
It is apparent that by mid-century history had acquired its modern
20th century shape. Having assumed a secure place in academe, it also
appealed to a wide public audience. World War I may have been the
formative event of the century and did stimulate interest in history, but
World War II popularized it far more. Curiosity about that war and its
causes, the country's assumption of greater international responsibilities,
and the opening of the cold war helped history to resonate among the
informed public. As college enrollments surged thanks to postwar
prosperity and the GI Bill, the size and number of history classes
mounted. Their place in college curricula reflected their acquired shape.
Except as a matter of convenience, they were listed neither as humanities
nor social sciences.
Practice proved that history was more method than science, more
interpretative than theory, more inductive than deductive in its reasoning,
and more factual than creative in its narration — though it enjoyed kinship
with all of these opposites.27 If historians now questioned the belief in
progress of their 1 9th century predecessors, they remained optimistic in
their writing. And, in the spirit of Edward Gibbon, they still believed in
truth as a guide and object of history. "No person without an inherent
loyalty to truth, a high degree of intellectual honesty, and a sense of
balance, can be a great or even a good historian. Truth about the past is
the essence of history and historical biography. . . ," Samuel Eliot
Morison told the American Historical Association in 1950.28
Consensus History Emerges
All considered, history's place in American society and culture
appeared settled and secure in the postwar years. Its content, moreover,
seemed to reflect the current mood of the country as its prewar progres-
sive spirit waned. The belief grew among historians that progressive
history with its prevailing theme of internal conflict had ill-prepared the
nation to grasp the significance of the totalitarian movements of the
1920s and 1930s. The belief that the present needed a different historical
grounding led Samuel Eliot Morison to declare: "The age of 'debunking'
has passed, ... a new generation both here and in Europe is sounding
and elucidating national and sectional traditions. But much harm was
done, and little good."29 Although a liberal historian himself, Morison
claimed that balance should be a hallmark of history, that the liberal
interpretation had too long guided history, and that the country now
needed a "sanely conservative" but not "nostalgic" writing of history.30
112 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
Perhaps ideas do have a history of their own and pass out of fashion;
perhaps the prewar progressives' association with isolationism discredited
their cause; perhaps the idea of national unity needed to be stressed as the
cold war continued; perhaps after all they had experienced in the last 20
years, Americans needed to rediscover past traditions suggesting unity,
continuity, and consensus rather than discord. Thus there occurred an
historiographical turn toward a more positive view of the past, personified
by historians like Daniel Boorstin and Clinton Rossiter. It had been
prefigured earlier.31 Of course, no single idea represents historical
thought of any time no more than a single idea expresses the thought of
any decade or generation, but a conservative or "consensus" view of
history ascended to redirect its basic shape. That ascendancy would be
challenged.
Consensus history fit the first period of postwar American life, from
1945 into the early 1950s, but it encountered stormy times during the
ensuing years. Between the mid 1950s and the mid 1970s, new forces
emerged to challenge and divide the national mood that consensus history
reflected.32 A spirit of reform with a rebellious edge grew and became
more radical as the 1960s proceeded. If the cold war was the central
international event for Americans at that time, the civil rights movement
was its domestic equivalent. It occupied a pivotal position in the nation's
thought and action, and as it struck against segregation, it vitalized or
revitalized other reform movements. By the end of the 1 960s a strong
women's liberation movement appeared that would soon produce dra-
matic social changes. Peace, poverty and the environment all became
targets of reform and often inspired protest demonstrations. As the
Vietnam conflict escalated, politics became more confrontational and a
"counterculture" youth movement that attacked many traditional values
gathered momentum.
New Left Historians Emphasize Conflict
Much of the temperament of the '60s appeared in the practice of
history as it did in other disciplines. Between the early years of the
century when the New History appeared with its progressive thrust until
World War II, discord and insurgency had been a major part of the
nation's history, but the post World War II consensus historians
deemphasized it. Now a group of New Left historians emerged who
wanted to restore themes of conflict, struggle, and exploitation to Ameri-
can history. These historians, William Appleman Williams, Walter La
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 1 13
Feber, Staughton Lynd and others, probed into diplomatic as well as
domestic history, and in some cases they searched for a usable, radical past
to serve as a political weapon against present maladjustments of society.
Never a homogeneous group, the New Left declined as a group in
time, but their passion and spirit can be detected in later causes historians
championed. Unlike historians who promoted other causes, most of the
New Left historians remained traditional in terms of methodology.
Historians involved in black history and especially women's history were
more willing to experiment with new techniques and approaches to
history. While the expanding social interests associated with the '60s
broadened the scope of history, the sequence of new approaches emerging
threatened to change its character.
Judging from the number of fields of history that acquired the
adjective "new" to their name, a wave of newness appeared to be sweeping
through the contours of the inquiry. In part, this can be explained by the
nature of the generational feeling widespread among the youth of that
time, and in part it can be seen as a response to recent historical events.
Already in 1953, Hannah Arendt went so far as to pronounce that history
was unable to provide understanding of the then present evil of totalitari-
anism since it was a world movement without precedent that exposed to
ruin traditional "categories of thought and standards of judgment."33
Although extreme, her statement captured the turn of mind a number of
historians were experiencing.34
Examining the "Precariousness of Human Effort"
In pursuit of new problems in history or new answers to old ones,
many historians were attracted to new methodologies and approaches
being advanced by other disciplines. Acceptance of these practices,
however, was far from complete and would occasion debates among
historians for the next several decades. Specifically, the debate turned on
three sequential but overlapping developments: 1) certain practices
gaining currency in the social sciences; 2) the expansion of the new social
history; and 3) a composite development that I shall refer to, for lack of a
better term, as "postmodernism."
Regarding the first item in the sequence, it should be pointed out
that the question was not the old one regarding whether or not history
was a social science. Long before it had been resolved by most historians
that history was not a social science as such but rather a study that could
114 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
have much in common with social sciences.35 The new social history
might call that assumption into question, but at the start of the renewed
debate regarding the social sciences attention was focused on particular
practices. For example, as social scientists applied their techniques to
human behavior and sought to perfect their understanding of specialized
and often small units of research, they seemed to part company with
historians, who, however specified their research might be, were expected
to relate it to larger categories of knowledge. Consequently, the generali-
zations they reached were not as sharply defined as those of the social
scientists.
Richard Hofstadter explained the difference in this way. As the
historian moves beyond the small units of his research to engage the larger
questions of the past, he "confronts the precariousness of human effort,
sees the passing not only of great states and powerful institutions but of
militant faiths and, most pertinent for him, of the very historical perspec-
tives that were identified with them. At this point he is persuaded to
accept the imaginative as well as the cognitive side of his own work . . .
and he realizes more fully than before how much history is akin to
literature."36 Many other historians continued to consider narrative a
defining characteristic of history.37
In fact, orthodox historians questioned that a number of social
science techniques, which had gained currency since World War II, had
great applicability to history — "model building" for one, quantification
for another. Moreover, devotees of these methods sometimes angered
historians by referring to history as only a descriptive and impressionistic
exercise. At times historians responded with little tact to such inferences.
It was, for instance, the president of the AHA, Carl Bridenbaugh, who
countered, "The finest historians will not be those who succumb to the
dehumanizing methods of social sciences, whatever their uses and values,
which I hasten to acknowledge. Nor will the historian worship at the
shrine of the Bitchgoddess, quantification. History offers radically
different values and methods."38
While other historians criticized claiming too much for quantifica-
tion, they admitted that when carefully used it had a place in history.39
After all, historians had counted for ages. Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. probably
struck the proper balance when he summed up the case of quantification
in history in this manner. "As an humanist, I am bound to reply that
almost all important questions are important precisely because they are
not susceptible to quantitative answers. The humanist . . . does not deny
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 5
the value of the quantitative method. What he denies is that it can handle
everything which the humanist must take into account; what he con-
demns is the assumption that things which quantitative methods can't
handle don't matter."40
The Use of "Collective Mentalities"
The case of using psychological methods as tools of history requires
more explanation. Already in 1958 William Langer in his AHA Presiden-
tial Address urged historians to use the concepts of modern psychology to
perceive "collective mentalities" related to historical inquiries. He used
the psychological effects of a traumatic event, the Black Death, to make
his point.41 Langer, like Preserved Smith long before, also expressed an
interest in psychoanalytical biography42 That interest, in fact, had been
growing for sometime, not surprising given the impact that Sigmund
Freud has had on the thought of this century. When handled with care
and kept within reasonable boundaries, it appeared to have much to
offer.43 Erik Erikson's contributions to the field stimulated even more
interest in it. However, his Young Man Luther attracted some sharp
criticism by historians as did a popular study of Woodrow Wilson by
Sigmund Freud and William Bullitt.44
The skeptics worried that the psychoanalyzing of historical figures
produced claims that could not be proven since these people were no
longer alive and the possible cure that would prove the analysis was no
longer possible. Some complained that appropriate evidence for such
conclusions was missing, or that such evidence when found was not time
conditioned. Others, like Jacques Barzun wondered if the process placed
too much emphasis on "fixations," "deep attachments," and on character-
istics of adulthood dredged up from speculations, or even facts about
one's youth. Or, it might encourage an old historical error, allowing an
event to define cause. "Chainsmoking," he reasoned, "may well express a
regressive desire to suck the breast, but sucking the breast does not lead to
lung cancer, and our hero's death has to be explained by chain-smok-
ing."45 More recently, as they discover more about the biological makeup
of the brain and the relationship between a person's genetic history and
human behavior, scientists are questioning the emphasis Freud placed on
the irrational processes of individual thought.46
As for the broader, cultural implications of Freud's theories, they too
occasioned skepticism among historians. Freud's claim, for instance, that
private religion was obsessional neurosis and that religion itself was mass
obsessional neurosis, was bound to disturb historians. It was as reduction-
116 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
istic as Marxism. If Marx traced human behavior to economic forces and
considered the "personal" or "private" factor only as a manifestation of
those forces, Freud traced it to psychological roots. In both cases, histori-
ans had reason to question the devaluation of culture, politics, and various
social realities in such grand schemes.47
For a variety of reasons, then, orthodox historians were uneasy about
the viability of certain social science methodologies for history unless they
were properly qualified. Nevertheless, by the 1960s the old tension
between history and the social sciences appeared to be waning. Orthodox
historians often acknowledge that advances in the social sciences must be
considered for their possible enhancement of historical accuracy and for
their use in probing into undeveloped areas of the historical past.48 The
social sciences, moreover, were acquiring a renewed appreciation of
historical perspective. The rapprochement had been long in coming but
would prove illusory. A new challenge to historical orthodoxy was already
mounting. Although quite diverse, the challenge can be appreciated by
observing the rise of the new social history.
The Rise of the New Social History
As in the case of so many of the "new" histories that appeared in the
1960s and 1970s, the new social history had significant antecedents.49
Major historians in the 19th and early 20th centuries had advanced the
cause — especially J. R. Green and G. M. Trevelyan, two English historians
who influenced their American counterparts, and John Back McMaster
and Arthur Schlesinger, Sr. in this country. It was Trevelyan who de-
scribed this brand of history as "the history of a people with politics left
out."50
Moreover, the New History that James Harvey Robinson and
Charles A Beard championed two generations before had a social compo-
nent. Social history, however, only became a separate field in the 1950s.51
The rising interest of historians in quantification and other current social
science methodologies provided the tools that, in many cases, would be
needed to explore various subjects of this "new" inquiry. It is also worth
remembering that it was cast against the backdrop of one of the momen-
tous transformations of modern centuries, the decolonization of Africa
and Asia, the corresponding successful national movements in those areas,
and the relative reduction of Western Europe's political world position.
An even more immediate context for this new history can be found
in the temper of the '60s noted previously in relation to the growth of the
New Left. The spirit of tension and rebelliousness associated with that
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 1 17
decade and its attachment to anti-institutional causes reverberated among
groups of other historians who, as a result both of their frustration and
idealism, became dissatisfied with many aspects of the social and intellec-
tual order, including consensus history. They rejected its portrayal of
unity in history when so many people were omitted from consideration.
They questioned the habit of understanding politics through the study of
political elites when grassroots movements like the civil rights movement,
the feminist movement, and the antiwar protest of their time were prov-
ing the contrary.
Transatlantic influences also inspired the new social history. A
renewed interest in Marxism was part of this inspiration as was the work
of some distinguished British and French contemporary historians.
Among the British were several scholars who had been attracted to
Marxism (e. g., Christopher Hill, Eric Hobsbawn, and E. P. Thompson),
whose reputation among American intellectuals was great.
The influence of the Annates school of historians in France may have
been even greater.52 According to Fernand Braudel, whose efforts to
spread the influence of the school far beyond France cannot be overstated,
Annates historians rejected specialized history and sought a "science of
history" that would keep the entire social spectrum and all levels of
consciousness within its domain."53 No wonder its influence was inspir-
ing. Furthermore, in the hands of a Braudel, with his interest in geogra-
phy, demography, and economics, the new history could even be an
expansive exploration of entire societies, empires, and civilizations. It was
exciting. However, he had few imitators among American historians.
The new social history again illustrates the risks involved in efforts
to define historical schools or labels. In some respects, however, references
to it as "history from below" and as "populist history" are helpful, because
they make the distinction between this history and "history from above"
or "elitist" history. Whereas orthodox history stressed political, diplo-
matic, and military studies, focused on events, and was narrative in style,
the "new" history moved away from the political to embrace every field of
human activity and contended that reality was a social and cultural
phenomenon. Instead of great ideas, it explored collective mentalities,
and in terms of style tended towards the analytical rather than the narra-
tive.54
The new social historians studied topics usually absent in main-
stream historical writing — topics such as: illiteracy, ethnicity, gender,
criminality, sexuality, overlooked protest movements, and the family.
They insisted that the historical experience of women be taken seriously,
118 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1999
that previously overlooked people who were "disinherited from American
heritage" be accorded their due place in history, that ethnic groups be
recognized in the American past, and that the lives of ordinary people be
brought into the fabric of history.55 Historians writing black history and
the history of women, fields that were rapidly changing at the time, were
drawn to the openness as well as to the current social science techniques
of the new social history.56 "Without the growing sophistication of
contemporary social history," one of the new women historians explained,
"the history of the New Women's History could not be written."57
The achievement of the new social history in its heyday was consid-
erable. It helped to democratize history, to explore hitherto overlooked
private sectors of the past, to explore social conflicts, and more. Some of
our foremost contemporary historians (e. g., David Hackett Fischer and
Eugene Genovese) produced major works writing in this genre. Yet, while
it still retains a position in historiography and has its devotees, uncertainty
can be detected in its ranks and its sometimes implied or even expressed
intent to replace orthodox history has given way to a search for more ways
to interact with the mainstream of history.58 There are several explana-
tions for its present status.
Devaluing "Traditional" History
First of all, at the peak of the field's popularity in the 1970s, some of
its practitioners made excessive claims about its potential and displayed
irritating, short-sighted arrogance in the manner in which they advanced
their cause. Social history was superior history, the only really meaningful
history, the only one that dealt with "deeper realities" and could, there-
fore, be comprehensive. Older history was devalued as "archaic," "narra-
tive" (implying a lack of analysis), or "failed sociology," or as "tradi-
tional."59 The last term is a curious code word to use in a disparaging
way in reference to historians! Such charges appeared ill-fitted to reality
since they were made at a time when Hitler's Germany and Stalin's Soviet
Union were fresh in memory and when China was reeling under the
direction of Chairman Mao. It could be argued that World War II, an
historical-military event, shaped attitudes alive in the then present cold
war. Moreover, despite the enthusiasm associated with the new social
history, political history persisted — even in France, the home of the
Annates school. That school, in fact, has experienced fragmentation and
introspective doubts.60 The same can be said of the "new" history in this
country.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 1 19
Indeed, as numerous historians have commented, fragmentation
became a basic problem for the new social history. Given the prolifera-
tion of its subfields and their bent towards over-specialized focus, their use
of narrow quantification analysis, their propensity for theorizing, and
their use of problem solving techniques of the social sciences, fragmenta-
tion was unavoidable. "Most of the new social historians," Alice Kessler-
Harris observes, "have chosen to elaborate the microcosm [of particular
aspects of history] in the hope that their own tiny contribution to the
jigsaw puzzle will ultimately help to construct a new interpretation of our
past."61 A fine hope, but it has not been realized except in particular
cases. There were too many pieces with edges that did not match, and
some pieces were not entirely part of the puzzle.
It can be argued, for instance, that while women's history has
expanded social history, that many new social historians have ignored
questions germane to women's history.62 Unlike numerous other sub-
fields of social history, women's history intercepts with general history at
so many points that it might well qualify as a field of its own rather than
as a subfield of social history. Moreover, compared to the abundance of
quantitative sources available for the related subfield of family history,
those available for the study of women's history are inadequate. Practitio-
ners of women's history, therefore, turned to and found literary evidence
to inform their research.63 In many respects, the same can be said of
black history. A rich array of traditional historical sources beyond statis-
tics exist for it. Should subfields such as these really be subfields or,
contrary to the centrifical drift of some of the other categories of social
history, do they have a natural connection with the historical mainstream
in terms of both content and methodology?
Equally troublesome for the subfields of the rubric was their deliber-
ate disassociation with the political content characteristic of orthodox
historiography. Thus the subfields tended toward a particularism that
resisted assimilation with larger historical patterns, not only with their
universalist norm that, notwithstanding its shortcomings, had shaped
American history but also with their encompassing interpretations of
political persuasion, polity, and power. In the spirited language of Eugene
Genovese and Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, writing already in 1976, "as
admirable as much of the recent social history has been and as valuable as
much of the description of the life of the lower classes may eventually
prove, the subject as a whole is steadily sinking into a neoantiquarian
swamp. . . ."64 Writing from a Marxist perception, they were lamenting
the lack of class confrontation in current social history, but their com-
ment addresses a central problem of the rubric.
1 20 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
Looking for a National Narrative
It might even be acknowledged that in their sometimes overemo-
tional reaction to the new history that its public critics made some viable
arguments. They protested that the new history neglected important,
especially political, aspects of the American past. Where was the national
narrative? Was proper attention given to "the individual" or to the
progressive force (or hope) that previously had been a part of our his-
tory?65 The new social history had, in fact, placed the "group" over the
individual and did not manifest much of the old progressive spirit. By
stressing "history from the bottom up" it appeared to overlook the salient
fact, that much of history and indeed much of life in its social-political
setting, is influenced from the top down. As Leon Trotsky once said,
"While you may not be interested in the State, the State is interested in
you."66
The fragmentation and inwardness found in the new social history
are clues that take us to the edge of the third source of debate among
contemporary historians — that associated with the ill-defined term,
"postmodernism." As various historians point out, postmodernism is "a
notoriously slippery label."67 Indeed it is. Is it synonymous with struc-
turalism (if structuralism is taken to mean semiology), with post-
structuralism, or with deconstruction? Is it the same as "the new histori-
cism" or "the new cultural history?" Is it postmodernity (e. g., modern
life) or post-modernism (e.g., a movement in the arts and architecture)?
Some authorities on postmodernism claim it defies precise definition. It
appears at least as a case of what Winston Churchill once referred to as
"terminological inexactitude. "68
Nevertheless, postmodernism represents a critique of the historio-
graphical tradition, one that has occasioned emphatic responses from
historians. The roots of this critique reach back at least to the 1 9th
century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and have grown amid those 20th
century forces manifesting cultural disillusionment alluded to earlier.69
Once again the influence of transatlantic thought was of major conse-
quence, most notably that of Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida. Their
reputation in this country spread after the Vietnam War, with the waning
of the cold war, and with the rise of the multicultural questioning of the
norms of national identity, which at times became associated with politi-
cal action.70
Notwithstanding the complexity of their theories, certain elements
in them are striking. Foucault saw discontinuity rather than continuity in
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 121
history, rejected the idea that knowledge grew through time, and targeted
submerged communities and marginalized groups rather than larger ones
like the state to study. He was concerned with the heterogeneity of life
and with the techniques of power that he detected in it. Contrary to the
humanist idea of the individual as a rational being, he claimed that the
mind was not free, that it was controlled by the structure of language.
Regarding Derrida, he advanced a "deconstructionist" approach to
language in which a "text" has endless meanings, none of which explains
what the author meant.71 As a form of literary criticism, deconstruction
overturned the traditional value attached to literature, but its influence
extended to other studies as well. In history it represented a "linguistic
turn" that was hardly what the orthodox champions of historical narrative
expected.
Postmodernist theories strike at the core of history. Its extreme
cultural relativism negates history's pursuit of objective truth, the validity
of historical evidence, and the idea of discovering reality beyond dis-
course. They deny that the historical narrative describes an actual past.72
Hayden White, an advocate of these theories, claims that historical
narratives are as much " invented zs found," that they are "verbal fic-
tions."73 Although much is left unsaid in this brief introduction of
postmodernism as it relates to history, and while it is only fair to mention
that postmodernists are not all of one mind, the challenge the movement
poses for history is unmistakable. With its extreme references to the
presentist meaning of texts and with its dismissal of historical truth, as
well as historical causation, context, and continuity, it appears to be
incompatible with the historiographical tradition.74
Is Elvis Dead?
While some social and some feminist historians have found
postmodernist theories congenial to their inquiries, the bulk of practicing
historians reject them, indeed, with greater vigor than they used in
references to other departures from orthodoxy. Joyce Appleby, G. R.
Elton, and Lawrence Stone are among the better known historians whose
criticism could be cited.75 One example, offered by the preeminent Eric
Hobsbawn, will have to suffice. He argues that historians are duty-bound
to oppose "the rise of 'postmodernist' intellectual fashions . . . which
imply that all 'facts' claiming objective existence are simply intellectual
constructions — in short, that there is no clear difference between fact and
fiction. . . . There is . . . for instance, even for the most militantly
anti-positivist ones among us, the ability to distinguish between the two.
1 22 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
. . . We cannot invent our facts. Either Elvis Presley is dead or he
isn't."76
That the postmodernist thrust challenges the historiographical
tradition at its core, is hard to deny. Unlike other challenges covered in
these comments, if its extreme claims are taken seriously, they would
repudiate history as it is known.77 With some exception, its influence,
which was never widespread among most practicing historians, appears to
be waning.78 This does not mean that the historiographical tradition can
expect to proceed unfettered in the future. As we have seen, at every turn
in the unfolding of the tradition, problems appeared, and no doubt that
will continue to be the case.
Since the 1950s, there has been the problem of "sprawl" of content,
and the practices of historians since then have intensified it. Until the
1960s, there was a coherence or a unity (sometimes referred to as grand
narrative) in American history. That has passed and historians are at
present discussing the impact this has on the perceived significance of
history.79 The recent popularity of "microhistory" only worsens the
problem. Regardless, the search for some type of new larger framework
proceeds. It is worth noting that throughout the century the narrative
element never disappeared from the historiographical tradition; in fact, it
remained quite alive and retains the potential for broadening the scope of
that tradition. How far, no one can say at this time.
Historians Reflect Their "Climate of Opinion"
As it stands, however, the historiographical tradition reveals a great
deal about historians and the study of history. Historians, for instance, do
reflect what Carl Becker labeled "the climate of opinion" of their time in
their writing. They have demonstrated a willingness to experiment with
new methodologies and principles in their work, and the substance of
history has benefited from that experimentation. With their emphasis on
the scientific pursuit of history, however qualified that term needs to be,
the late 19th century historians made history a major subject in American
education, saved it from romantic flights from reality, and provided
incentive for historians to exploit the great expansion of the sources,
particularly the archival sources, of knowledge of their time.
The progressive historians broadened the inquiry and restored spirit
and vision to it. Consensus historians distanced history from the crusad-
ing impulses of the 1930s and sought to address the needs of a generation
seeking, in the words of J. Rogers Hollingsworth, to understand "the
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 123
uniqueness and essence" of America.80 For all of their radicalism, New
Left historians redirected historical inquiry to the quite real conflict in the
American past that consensus historians had deemphasized. New social
historians and historians working in the fields of black history and
women's history have corrected many older ideas about race, gender, age,
and much more. As a result of their efforts, we are considerably more
aware of cultural diversity in our past. Even in the case of postmodernist
historians, it can be argued that they will sharpen the practices of verifica-
tion and credibility in historical criticism and will lead historians toward a
deeper examination of their rhetoric and their interaction with their
subject. Consequently, it is apparent that in their practice of history, 20th
century historians have enriched the historiographical tradition.
They also shaped that tradition by their resistance to various
approaches to history. For instance, they have treated applying theory to
history with caution. I find it interesting that Herbert Butterfield, whose
The Whig Interpretation of History has influenced historians to this day,
liked to compare his preferred historical methodology to the methods that
Sherlock Holmes employed.81 How often we discover Holmes telling the
good Dr. Watson, "It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all
the evidence. It biases the judgment."82 More than to theory, however,
historians have been adverse to reductionism and determinism, notwith-
standing the presence of some notable Marxists in their ranks. They have
also been cautious in their association with the social sciences. Although
some historians prefer that label, most do not. History's relationship with
the social sciences, in the main, has been of an almost-but-not-quite type
and can be described best as symbiotic. It appears, moreover, to proceed
through time in a cyclical fashion.
Providing An "Index to the Mind"
At its core, the historiographical tradition is a moderate and open
one that resists extreme positions in terms of either content or methodol-
ogy. If the goal of complete objectivity that historians once pursued now
seems unreachable, that of plausibility does not. Belief in it, in fact, leads
historians to reject the idea that texts have no relation to reality in favor of
the idea that through a critical examination of source materials, historical
reality can be reconstructed. It is moderate, too, in the manner in which
it establishes causal relationships, in the inferences it draws from evidence,
and in the restraints it places on presentist persuasions. Its broadening of
content shows it is far from being iconoclastic while the appeal it has to a
1 24 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
great variety of scholars illustrates its openness. At universities today,
scholars practicing history can be found in various academic departments.
Furthermore, it is only necessary to recall Barbara Tuchman's many
excellent books to know that independent historians continue to produce
outstanding works. That fact not only attests to the great appeal of
history as an exploration of the human past but also to the viability of the
narrative component of the historiographical tradition.
Finally, it can be seen that the historiographical tradition is capable
of engaging us in a personal way. What is there in the practice and
principles of history that fascinate you the most? Perhaps it is the sense of
discovery; perhaps, the satisfaction of carefully exploring a human prob-
lem. Perhaps it is, as John Hope Franklin believes, knowing that history
pursued honestly can provide people the basis for making sound judg-
ments.83 Perhaps its fascination is due to Gerda Lerner's simple observa-
tion, "history matters" in "life and thought."84 The question is worth our
best attention, and it is one that elicits an individual response.
In my own case, the narrative element in history has particular
appeal. Veronica Wedgwood once reflected that the style of narration is
"an index to the mind."85 Quite right. In expressing history, we give
form and structure to our particular subjects. The art of narration tests
our capacity to be honest in dealing with the men and women who enter
our stories, and it forces us, as much as possible, to discern the difference
between objectivity and subjectivity, between opinion and bias. In
constructing narrative, we know that history must argue from evidence,
but we know, too, that such evidence must be, to our best knowledge,
truthful. Composing an historical narrative vitalizes self-awareness; it
leads us to look into and beyond ourselves. It forces considerations of the
full range of conditions that shaped past life. In short, creating historical
narrative encourages the search for truth — past and present.
Endnotes
'The idea of a dead past was popularized by the British historian, J. L. Plumb who actually wrote
about the past as it was conceived for centuries before our time. See his The Death of the Past (1969;
reprint, Harmondsworth, Eng: Macmillan & Co., Penguin Books) 1969. Also, in 1989 Francis
Fukuyama's article announcing history's end received widespread attention. With the end of the cold
war, he argued, "we may be witnessing . . . the end of history as such: that is, the end point of
mankind's ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final
form of human government." What would replace it? He found it plausible to reason "that there is
some larger process at work, a process that gives coherence and order to the daily headlines, "The
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 125
End of History?" In A Look at "The End of History?" e&. Kenneth M. Jensen (Washington, D. C:
United States Institute of Peace, 1990): 1-2. First published in National Interest 9 (summer 1989): 3-
18. Fukuyama's thesis, through which runs a suggestive if democratized Hegelian dialectical
reasoning, appears to be disproven by events in the 1990s. See also Georg G. Iggers, "The 'Linguistic
Turn': The End of History as a Scholarly Discipline," in Historiography in the Twentieth Century: From
Scientific Objectivity to the Postmodern Challenge (Hanover, N. H.: Wesleyan University Press, 1993),
118-33.
2Gary B. Nash, Charlotte Crabtree, and Ross E. Dunn, History on Trial: Culture Wars and the
Teaching of the Past (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1997), 188-258.
3Gerda Lerner, Why History Matters: Life and Thought (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997),
199.
4Historiography can also mean the writing of history, topical interpretation in history, philosophical
approaches to history, or the whole body of historical literature.
'Bert James Lowenberg, American History in American Thought: Christopher Columbus to Henry
Adams (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1972), 11.
'Herodotus, The Persian Wars, The Modern Library (1942), 3- Although it is sometimes claimed
that the origins of history should be located either with the ancient Hebrews or perhaps with the even
more ancient Sumarians, I believe it should be placed with the Greeks. The modern historical
tradition includes critical thought not just thought about the past. Hebrew history (i. e., the Old
Testament) contains too much uncriticized content, too many things like the creation story for which
no evidence is provided, and repeatedly refers to God or God's will as explanation for cause or
motivation. This is not to say that verifiable data cannot be found in the Old Testament nor that it
failed to offer vision that many future historians would adopt. The point is discussed in Peter Gay
and Gerald J. Cavanaugh, eds., Historians at Work, 4 vols. (New York: Harper & Row Publishers,
1972-75), 1: XV. As for the Sumerians, they wrote no history as we think of it in its modern form,
but they did begin the gathering of historical materials and the production of records to be kept —
mainly for religious or political purposes. (Samuel Noah Kramer, The Sumerians: Their History,
Culture and Character [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963], 33-39).
7David Hume, The History of England, vol. 1 (1754; reprint, Philadelphia: Porter & Coates, 1776),
25-6.
8 'The Autobiography of Edward Gibbon, ed. Dero A. Saunders (1794; reprint, New York: Meridian
Books, 1967), 27.
'Peter Gay and Victor G. Wexler, eds. Historians at Work, 4 vols. (New York: Harper & Row, 1972),
2: 353.
,0In the course of this essay, the influence of European historians on American scholars will be
apparent. This influence was never more obvious than in the nineteenth century when German
philosophers and historians (e. g., Johann G. Fichte, Arnold Heeren, G. W. F. Hegel, Johann G.
Herder, and Immanuel Kant) affected American romantic and national historians like John L. Motley,
Francis Parkman and especially George Bancroft. Later in the century, Leopold von Ranke's influence
on historical scholarship in this country would become legend. Meanwhile, English historians like
Thomas Babington Macaulay, Thomas Carlyle, Henry Thomas Buckle, and J. R. Green and French
historians like Jules Michelet and Alex de Tocqueville exerted a transatlantic influence. Though a
nineteenth century figure, Karl Marx's influence was mainly of consequence after the turn of the
century. He did, however, have an impact on a few nineteenth century American historians like
Henry Adams.
"Herbert Baxter Adams was the real founder or the American Historical Association and was its
secretary for its first 16 years. As director of historical studies at Johns Hopkins, his Seminary in
Historical and Political Science introduced German seminary practices of fact-finding in original
sources and rigorous textual analysis. One of his assistants was John Franklin Jameson, who would
become an outstanding early "professional" historian, and among his early students were Woodrow
Wilson and Albert Shaw, the future editor of the American Review of Reviews from 1 89 1 - 1 937. The
term "amateurs" refers to the well-educated but nonprofessional historians who wrote in the early and
mid nineteenth century and who worked at some other professions or livelihood (e. g., as clergymen,
lawyers, physicians, journalists). The term "professional historians" is not entirely satisfactory since it
implies that those historians who were not in their academic ranks were a lesser breed of historians. It
is, however, a commonly used designation for this group. Also, I have chosen not to use the term
"historicism" in reference to this group. Although it is sometimes used to identify them, it has
acquired too many meanings and has lost whatever precision it may have had.
1 26 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
l2John Fiske, Essays Historical and Literary, 2 vols. (1902; reprint, New York: Macmillan Company,
1925), 2: 6 and 16.
l3Consider, for instance, Albert Bushnell Hart's American Nation Series, published in 26
individually authored volumes between 1904 and 1906. The volumes were divided into five groups:
Group I, "Foundations of the Nation;" Group II, "Transformation Into a Nation;" Group III,
"Development of the Nation;" Group IV, "Trial of Nationality;" and Group V, "National Expansion."
In the first volume this definition of history appears. "The purpose of the historian is to tell what has
been done and, quite as much, what has been purposed by thinking, working, and producing people
who make public opinion. . . . This is not intended to be simply a political or constitutional history:
it must include their social life, and their schools. It must include their economic life, occupations,
labor systems, and organizations of capital. . . ." True history, Hart continued, must include
"dramatic episodes" that "inspired the imagination of contemporaries, and stir the blood of their
descendants." And, regarding the "condensed" citations, they represented a "constant reference to
authorities, a salutary check on the writer; and a safeguard to the reader." The Scientific school was
pushing out its borders: Albert Bushnell Hart, ed., Edward Potts Cheyney, European Background of
American History: 1300-1600 (New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1904), XVII-XVIII.
MFrank J. Goodnow, "The Work of the American Political Science Association," Proceedings of the
American Political Science Association 1 (1905): 37. See also, Albert Shaw, "Presidential Address," The
American Political Science Review 1 (Feb. 1907): 184.
15John Higham, Leonard Krieger, and Felix Gilbert, History (Englewood Cliffs, N. J: 1965), 1 10-
113.
"James Harvey Robinson, The New History (1912; reprint, New York: The Free Press, 1965), XV.
l7Quoted in Dorothy Ross, "On the Misunderstanding of Ranke and the Origins of the Historical
Profession in America," Syracuse Scholar 9 (1988): 38.
18Higham, Krieger, and Gilbert, History, 111 and 116.
"Carl Becker, "Everyman his own Historian," American Historical Review 37 (Jan. 1932): 221-36.
20Quoted in Henry Steele Commager, The American Mind: An Interpretation of American Thought
and Character Since the 1880s (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950), 308.
2 'Richard Hofstadter, The Progressive Historians: Turner, Beard, Parrington (New York: Alfred A.
Knopf, 1968), XII.
"Exemplifying the rich variety in historical writing in these years was the work of Howard K. Beale
(Political history) , Thomas A Bailey (diplomatic history), Charles Beard (economic history), Perry
Miller and Vernon Louis Parrington (intellectual history), John R. Commons (labor history), W. E. B.
Dubois and Carter Woodson (black history), Mary Beard (women's history), and Lucy Salmon and
William Bleyer (journalism history).
"Quoted in Harvey Wish, The American Historian: A Social-Intellectual History of the Writing of the
American Past (New York: Oxford University Press, I960), 313-
"Charles A. Beard, "That Noble Dream," American Historical Review 41 (1935): 85- Regarding
Marx's limited influences on American historians at this time, see Oscar Handlin, Truth in History
(Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1979), 70 and 73-
25Higham, Krieger, and Gilbert, History, 104-5.
26Ibid., 73-77.
27The elements of the practice of history are apparent in the standard works on historical method in
use at that time. See, for example, Louis Gottschalk, Understanding History: A Primer on Historical
Method (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1950), and Joseph R. Strayer, ed., The Interpretation of History
(1943; reprint, New York: Peter Smith, 1950).
28Harvey Wish, ed., American Historians: A Selection (New York: Oxford University Press, 1962),
380.
25Ibid.,391.
30Ibid., 393.
31See, for example, Henry Osborn Taylor, "Continuities In History," American Historical Review 44
(Oct. 1938): 1-19.
"William H. Chafe, "America Since 1945," in The New American History, ed. Eric Foner
(Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1990), 144-46.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 127
33Hannah Arendt, "Understanding and Politics," Partisan Review 20 (July-Aug. 1953): 388 and
380-94. Considering the rich historical accounts about the background and rise of Nazism published
since she made this statement, it appears she was mistaken.
34See, for example, C, Vann Woodward, "The Age of Reinterpretation," American Historical Review
AG (Oct. I960): 1-2, and H. Stuart Hughes, "The Historian and the Social Scientist," in Generaliza-
tions in Historical Writing, eds. Alexander V. Riasanovsky and Barnes Riznik (Philadelphia: University
of Pennsylvania Press, 1963), 20-21.
35See, for example, representative historiographic studies such as Gottschalk, Understanding History,
33-37, Allan Nevins, The Gateway to History, rev. ed. (Garden City,
N. Y: Doubleday & Company, Anchor Books, 1962), 332-35; and Page Smith, The Historian and
History (1960; reprint, New York: Random House, Vintage Books, 1966), 136-37.
36Richard Hofstadter, "History and Social Science," in The Varieties of History: From Voltaire to the
Present, ed. Fritz Stern (Cleveland: World Publishing Company, Meridian Books, 1956), 371.
37See, for example, Catherine Drinker Bowen, "Biography, History, and the Writing of Books," and
Allan Nevins "The Old History and the New," The Art of History (Washington: The Library of
Congress, 1967), 15-19, and 29; Gabriel Jackson, Historian's Quest (New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
1969), 25; and Louis O. Mink, "Narrative Form as a Cognitive Instrument," in The Writing of
History: Literary Form and Historical Understanding, eds. Robert H. Canary and Henry Kozicki
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978), 129-49.
38Carl Bridenbaugh, "The Great Mutation," American Historical Review 68 (Jan. 1963), 326.
Bridenbaugh was criticized for the anti-Jewish implications of some of his other comments in this
address. See, Peter Novick, That Noble Dream: The 'Objectivity Question and the American Historical
Profession (1988; reprint, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 339- For a critique of
quantification see, Eugene Genovese and Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, "The Political Crisis of Social
History: A Marxian Perspective," Journal of Social History 10 (Winter 1976): 210-1 1. In this article
the authors speak of the "disastrously short-lived cliometric revolution." Indeed, by 1976, the rush to
quantification had passed its peak.
"See, for example, Handlin, Truth in History, 223-26; Paul K. Conkin and Roland N. Stromberg,
The Heritage and Challenge of History (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1971), 111-12; Hughes,
"The Historian and the Social Scientist," 42; and Jerome M. Clubb and Howard Allen, "Computers
and Historical Statics" Journal of American History 54 (Dec. 1967): 599-607.
40Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., "The Humanist Looks at Empirical Social Research," American Sociological
Review 27 (Dec. 1962): 770.
""William L. Langer, "The Next Assignment," American Historical Review 63 (Jan. 1958): 290-95.
42In 1913 Preserved Smith published an article, "Luther's Early Development," in which he
attempted a psychoanalytical study of Martin Luther, whom he considered a "highly neurotic
personality. Jacques Barzun, Clio and the Doctors: Psycho-History, Quanto-History and History
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974), 7.
43Higham, Krieger, and Gilbert, History, 228-32.
""Erik H. Erikson, YoungMan Luther: A Study in Psychoanalysis and History (New York: W W.
Norton, 1958), and Sigmund Freud and William Bullitt, Thomas Woodrow Wilson: Twenty-Eighth
President of the United States, A Psychological Study (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1967). Both of these
books are seriously flawed, and both received abundant response from historians. See, for example,
Roland Bainton, "Psychiatry and History: An Examination of Erikson's YoungMan Luther," in
Psychohistory and Religion: The Case of "YoungMan Luther" ed. Roger A. Johnson (Philadelphia:
Fortress Press, 1977), 19-56; and Barbara Tuchman, "Can History Use Freud? The Case of Woodrow
Wilson," The Atlantic Monthly, February 1967, pp. 39-44.
45Barzun, Clio and the Doctor. 72-73-
"Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1998), 254-
297.
47Philp Rieff, "Psychoanalysis," in American History and the Social Sciences, ed. Edward N. Saveth
(New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1964), 112 and 118-19.
48Higham, Krieger, and Gilbert, History, 139. See also, Edward N. Saveth, "The Conceptualization
of American History," in American History and the Social Sciences, 3-24; Thomas C. Cochran, "The
Social Sciences and the Problem of Historical Synthesis," in Pendleton Herring, ed., The Social
1 28 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
Sciences in Historical Study, Bulletin 64 (New York: Social Science, Research Council, 1954, 157-71;
and Hughes, "The Historian and the Social Scientist," 18-59-
4?I decided to pursue the new social history rather than any of the other "new" histories because it
was the most comprehensive of the lot, and because it was trying to replace political history as the
mainstream of history. For the same reason, I chose to pursue it rather than black history or the
history of women.
50Gertrude Himmelfarb, The New History and the Old: Critical Essays and Reappraisals (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, The Belknap Press, 1982), 15.
5lTwo of the landmark books in the new social history, Peter Laslett's, The World We Have Lost and
Lawrence Stone's The Crisis in Aristocracy were published in 1965. Also, Peter N. Stearns began
publication of the Journal of Social History in 1967. There was an unmistakable attitude among social
historians at this time that their history was different from social history as it was previously written.
Sometimes they referred to the latter, rather unfairly, as "pots and pans" history or in some other
belittling way. They did, of course, recognize the individual prestigious historians like Marc Block
who preceded them.
52The Annates school is the historical writing associated with the publication of the journal, Les
Annales: Economics, societe's, civilisations. Marc Block and Lucien Febvre founded the journal with a
slightly different title in 1929. The editors dropped the reference to economics in the title in the
1950s and focused exclusively on the social element. The Annales approach rejected the centrality of
politics in history as it did narrative history and progress in history These historians were interested
in structuralism and drew from Karl Marx's study of economic forces in history and from Emile
Durkheim's work on collective behavior. Fernand Braudel, the editor of the journal from 1956-1972,
claimed the real founder of the school was Henri Barr, a French intellectual whose work can be traced
back to 1890. See, Fernand Braudel, "Personal Testimony," Journal of Modern History 44 (June
1972): 454-5.
53Ibid., 462, and Fernand Braudel, The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of
Philip II, 2 vols., 3d ed., trans. Siin Reynolds (1946; reprint, New York: Harper &C Row, 1972). In
his monumental study, Braudel covers geography, economics, empires, societies, war, and events,
politics and people — in that order. It is interesting to note, that in Part Three, when he turns to
discussing events, politics and people, he opens with this observation: "It [this section] has strong
affinities with frankly traditional historiography Leopold von Ranke, if he were alive today, would
find much that was familiar, both in subject matter and treatment, in the following pages." (Vol. 2:
901).
^Himmelfarb, New History and the Old, 1 4.
55Joyce Appleby, Lynn Hunt, and Margaret Jacob, Telling the Truth about History (New York: W. W.
Norton & Company, 1994), 154-55.
56John Hope Franklin, "The New Negro History," The Journal of Negro History 42 (April 1957): 89,
and Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, "The New Woman and the New History," Feminist Studies 3 (Fall
1975): 185.
S7Ibid., 188.
58Alice Kessler-Harris, "Social History," in Foner, The New American History, 178-9. John Higham
observes, "The new social history produced a mighty outpouring of social description and analysis;
but the gain in concreteness did not yield a greater coherence. An enormous fragmentation ensued. .
. . Each network developed its own scholarly journal, its own energizing question, its own agenda. .
. . Often these groups were entirely out of touch with one another; concepts that interested one set
of scholars were rarely articulated with the problems that interested other sets. . . . Somehow social
historians would have to find a subject . . . large enough to embrace . . . the confusing multiplicity
of groups and identities standing before us. . . ." Higham, "From Process to Structure: Formula-
tions of American Immigration History," in American Immigrants and Their Generations: Studies and
Commentaries on the Hansen Thesis after Fifty Years, eds. Peter Kivisto and Dag Blanck (Urbana:
University of Illinois Press, 1990), 13- Peter Burke was even more explicit. ". . . There are some
encouraging signs of Rapprochement, if not of synthesis. . . . It is now possible to observe a . . .
search for the centre. . . . Most important of all, perhaps, the long-standing opposition between
political and non-political historians is finally dissolving." Burke, "Overture: the New History," in
New Perspectives on Historical Writing," ed. Burke (University Park, Pa.: Pennsylvania State University
Press, 1992), 19. In 1996, Peter Stearns, one of the pioneers in the field wrote of the need for
reconciliation with other branches of history. "Clio, a muse of balance and perspective, deserves the
broader vision," he stated. "A Cease-fire for History?" The History Teacher 30 (Nov. 1996): 81.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 129
"Social historians' disparaging comments about orthodox history were, in fact, quite common, as I
recall. See also, Himmelfarb, The New History and the Old, 27; Joyce Appleby, "The Power of
History," American Historical Review 103 (Feb. 1998): 6; Charles Tilly, As Sociology Meets History
(New York: Academic Press, 1981), 5-6; and Lawrence Stone, The Past and the Present (Boston:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1981), 30.
'°Lynn Hunt, "French History in the Last Twenty Years: The Rise and Fall of the Annales
Paradigm," Journal of Contemporary History 21 (1986): 213-14, and Theodore Zeldin, "Social History
and Total History," Journal of Social History 10 (Winter 1976): 240.
61Alice Kessler-Harris, "Social History," in Foner, New American History, 178.
"Carroll Smith-Rosenberg points out that "despite its [contemporary social history] emphasis on
institutions and events of greatest concern to women, the New Social Historians, with few exceptions,
have ignored women. . . . contemporary social historians have also ignored one of the most basic
forms of human interaction — that between sexes." "The New Woman and the New History," 189.
63Carl N. Degler, "Women and the Family," in The Past Before Us: Contemporary Historical Writing
in the United States, ed. Michael Kammen (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1980), 310.
"Eugene Genovese and Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, "The Political Crisis of Social History," 214.
Among the other one-time enthusiasts of the new social history who later lamented its failures are two
of its founders, Lawrence Stone and Peter Stearns. See Stone's oft cited comments in The Past and the
Present, 30-44, and Stearns "A Cease-fire for History?" 73-81.
65Nash, et al., History on Trial, 5, 16, 26, 76, 82.
"Quoted in, William E. Leuchtenburg, "The Pertinence of Political History: Reflections on the
Significance of the State in America," Journal of American History, 73 (Dec. 1986): 600.
67Appleby, Hunt, and Jacob, Telling the Truth about History, 200.
68Churchill invented the term in 1906 when he rose in parliament to say that his own Liberal
party's reference to "Chinese Slavery" (a reference to Chinese labor in South Africa) had been
overstated. The term "slavery," he said, could apply to Unionist policy in South Africa only at the risk
of "terminological inexactitude."
"Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life, trans. Peter Preuss
(1874; reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1980), 21 and 35.
70Richard Rorty, "Deconstruction," in The Cambridge History of Literary Criticism, vol. 8, From
Formalism to Poststructuralism, ed. Raman Selden (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995),
193-96.
7,Ibid., 166-74; Christopher Falzon, Foucault and Dialogue: Beyond Fragmentation (London:
Routledge, 1998), 36-46; Sidney Monas, "Introduction: Contemporary Historiography: Some Kicks
in the Old Coffin," 3 and 5; and Georg G. Iggers, "Rationality and History," 35, in Developments in
Modern Historiography, ed. Henry Kozicki (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1993); and John M. Ellis,
Against Deconstruction (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1989), 52, 65-66, and 113-21.
72Appleby, Hunt and Jacob, Telling the Truth about History, 204, and Georg G. Iggers, Historiogra-
phy in the Twentieth Century, 118.
73Hayden White, Tropics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins
University Press, 1978), 82.
74Gerald N. Izenberg, "Text, Context, and Psychology in Intellectual History," in Kozicki,
Developments in Modern Historiography, 4 1 .
75Appleby, Hunt, Jacob, Telling the Truth About History, \97-237; G. R. Elton, Return to Essentials:
Some Reflections on the Present State of Historical Study (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991),
27-49; and Lawrence Stone," History and Post-Modernism," Past and Present (Aug. 1991): 217-18.
See also, Keith Windschuttle, The Killing of History: How Literary Critics and Social Theorists Are
Murdering Our Past (New York: The Free Press, 1996), 132-54.
76Eric Hobsbawn, On History (New York: The New Press, 1997), 6.
^Ibid. 195; Appleby, Hunt, and Jacob, Telling the Truth About History, 227 and 233; and Iggers,
Historiography in the Twentieth Century, 100.
78Elton, Return to Essentials, 13, and Richard Rorty, "Deconstruction," 167, n. 2, and Bryan Palmer,
"The Condition of the Poststructuralist Challenge to Political Meaning," The Maryland Historian 24
(Spring/Summer 1993): 67.
1 30 1998 Presidential Address • Winter 1 999
7Thomas Bender, "Wholes and Parts: The Need for Synthesis in American History," American
Historical Review 73 Gune 1986): 120-36; John Higham, "The Future of American History," Journal
of 'American History 81 (March 1994): 1286-1307; Leuchtenburg, ibid., 73 (Dec. 1986): 585-600;
and Georg G. Iggers, Historiography in the Twentieth Century, 141-44.
80J. Rogers Hollingsworth, "Commentary on 'Consensus and Continuity' in Post-War Historical
Interpretation," in The Historian and the Climate of Opinion, ed. Robert Allen Skotheim (Reading,
Mass.: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, 1969), 95.
8,Adam Watson, ed., Herbert Butterfield: The Origins of History (New York: Basic Books, 1981), 8.
82Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet in The Complete Sherlock Holmes, ed. Christopher
Morley (Garden City, N. Y.: Doubleday & Company, 1930), 27. Many such references can be found
in the Sherlock Holmes stories.
s3John Hope Franklin, "The Historian and Public Policy," in The Vital Past: Writings on the Uses of
History, ed. Stephen Vaughn (Athens, GA.: University of Georgia Press, 1985), 359.
84Gerda Lerner, Why History Matters, title page.
85C. V. Wedgwood, The Sense of the Past: Thirteen Studies in the Theory and Practice of History (New
York: Macmillan Company, Collier Books, 1967), 81.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 131
132
Winter 1999
Great Ideas
E. W. Scripps Papers Provide An
Important Journalistic Window
for Scholars
By Gerald J. Baldasty
The E.W. Scripps Papers at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio,
provide an unusually detailed view of American journalism
in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The manuscript
letters in this collection cover key journalistic, business and political
concerns in the first national newspaper chain, provide extensive informa-
tion on day-to-day operations of newspapers and provide a window into
the personality of one of the country's great press lords, E.W. Scripps
(1854-1926).
This manuscript collection is extensive, constituting approximately
200,000 letters and documents (70 cubic feet in 187 boxes). Charles E.
Scripps, grandson of E.W. Scripps, donated the papers to Ohio
University's Alden Library in August 1988. After extensive processing,
the collection was opened to the public in March 1990.
Scripps' career spanned a golden age of American journalism. In the
40 years straddling the turn of the century, the number of daily newspa-
pers nearly trebled, and newspapers reached virtually every home in the
country. Scripps pioneered the model of modern newspaper organization
— the newspaper chain — demonstrating that a group of newspapers
could operate more efficiently than individual newspapers.
During his career, Scripps established or purchased more than 40
newspapers, created a telegraph news service (United Press Associations), a
news features syndicate (Newspaper Enterprise Association) and Science
News Service. By the early 1900s, Scripps commanded the nation's
Gerald J. Baldasty, Professor of Communications at the University of Washington, is the
author of E. W. Scripps and the Business of Newspapers.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 133
Nackie Holsinger Scripps with her saddlehorse at Miramar, 1907 - 1910. [Miramar was the Scripps'
home in San Diego County, California.] E. W. Scripps Papers, Ohio University
largest media company. He ranks with William Randolph Hearst and
Joseph Pulitzer as one of the great press lords of the late 19th and early
20th centuries.
The Scripps papers at Ohio University provide an unusually detailed
view of newspaper operations from Scripps' era. Scripps was an avid letter
writer, so his thoughts and actions are well detailed. Moreover, he spent
much of the 1 890s and the early 1900s — key years for his chain — at his
134
Great Ideas • Winter 1999
California estate near San Diego. Because he was physically distant from
his newspapers, letters to and from him dealt with virtually all aspects of
newspaper operations. The reliance on letters was further underscored by
his refusal to do business by telephone and his extreme reluctance to use
telegrams. Most of Scripps' outgoing correspondence was saved in
letterbooks; carbon copies were also made for distribution to the chain's
Central Office (in Cincinnati) and to middle managers. Scripps' chief
lieutenants and the chain's middle managers also circulated carbons of
their letters to one another, thus improving the chance that key letters
have been saved.
The Scripps papers are organized into four key categories:
• Letters written to E.W. Scripps (Series 1, subseries 1.1). There
are 40 boxes in this section of the correspondence; letters cover
the period 1876 to 1926 but are heavily weighted to 1889-
1917.
• Letters written by E.W. Scripps (Series 1, subseries 1.2 and
Series 2). There are 74 boxes in this section of the correspon-
dence; the material draws primarily on the period from 1888
to 1917.
• Letters between other Scripps employees (Series 3, subseries 3-1,
and 3.2). There are 36 boxes in this section of the correspon-
dence; letters cover primarily the period from 1889 to 1919.
• Scripps' various writings, including his autobiography and his
Disquisitions — which are a series of essays on journalism and a
host of other subjects (Series 4). There are 12 boxes in this
section of the correspondence.
The first three sections provide the most detailed information for
journalism historians, providing information on each of Scripps' newspa-
pers, his telegraph news service, his news features service (Newspaper
Enterprise Association) and the Science News Service.
Letters to E.W. Scripps
This portion of the Scripps papers includes letters from a wide range
of employees in the Scripps newspaper chain — from Scripps' chief
lieutenants to individual editors and reporters. Among those writing to
Scripps are the chain's treasurer (Lemuel T Atwood); his letters often
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 135
E. W. Scripps takes time out for lunch on 1907 Grand Canyon trip. [Other photos state the trip was
made during September & October.] E. W Scripps Papers, Ohio University
provide extensive financial information about the various papers in the
chain. Other correspondents include Robert F. Paine, the chain's editor-
in-chief, and various regional managers (such as E.H. Wells and E.F.
Chase in the Pacific Northwest, W.H. Porterfield in California and A.O.
Andersson in Texas).
For journalism historians, these letters provide an excellent source
on newspaper operations: costs for starting and running newspapers,
circulation strategies and battles, general competition for news, relations
(and problems) with advertisers, personnel issues, and so on. Scripps
required monthly financial statements from his papers and some of these
136
Great Ideas • Winter 1 999
are included in this part of the correspondence. His employees regularly
informed him of other key developments at individual newspapers or in
chain-wide institutions (such as the telegraph news services or the news
features service).
For example, one letter — from the editor of Scripps' Seattle Star to
Scripps — describes that paper's reliance on NEA and provides informa-
tion about staff sizes for Seattle papers:
Here in Seattle, it [NEA] is the greatest possible help in
holding up and making progress. Without this exclusive
service we would have to largely increase our editorial
expenses, something that would be extremely difficult to do.
Our contemporary the Times employs a very large force of compe-
tent men, including 13 of the best reporters that
can be found, and spends money like water to get news near
and far. Against this effort, we can put half as many reporters
and the NEA. And we can win out with the NEA.1
Another letter to Scripps contained the mission statement of the
Tacoma Timer. "It shall be the first principle of this publication to be the
organ, the mouthpiece, the apologist, the defender and the advocate of
the working class."2
Scripps received letters from a host of others, too, including family
members, political figures (such as Theodore Roosevelt, Robert LaFollette,
Amos Pinchot, Woodrow Wilson and William Jennings Bryan), journalists
(Lincoln Steffens) and scientists (William J. Ritter). Scripps gave strong
and steady support to the Progressive movement and particularly to
LaFollette and Wilson. Ritter developed the Scripps Marine Biology
Institute (later called the Scripps Oceanographic Institute).
Letters from E.W. Scripps
Scripps was autocratic in personality, an advocate of "one man
power" in running his chain. Consequently, letters from him are plain
spoken and unequivocal; he demanded that his papers serve the working
class and that they be profitable. He created strategies for building a
newspaper chain and held forth on the state of the newspaper industry.
Business concerns — expansion of the chain, creation of the tele-
graph news services, cost controls, the role of advertising, etc., — dominate
his outgoing letters through 1908 (although political issues receive some
attention). Scripps began his first retirement in 1908.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 137
In 1904, Scripps outlined his view of journalism to the editor of his
San Francisco Daily News: "Hook yourself tight and close the heart of the
common people. Be always with them and of them."3 Another letter
reveals the business rationale behind Scripps' close attention to working
class readers: "The wage earning class is by far the largest purchasing class
of Los Angeles and however much the advertisers may respect the carriage
trade and desire it, they are absolutely dependent upon the basket trade
and dinner pail brigade for their prosperity."4 On another occasion,
Scripps outlined his bare-bones approach to newspaper operations to the
business manager of one of his newspapers:
The first thing you, as a young business manager, have to
learn is how to save money. Demonstrate to the company
that you have got that capacity first. Never buy anything
today that you can put off until tomorrow or next year.
Never add any expense for anything until you shall have
felt the supreme necessity of such an expenditure for at
least three months. Be a skin-flint in every other matter but
circulation.5
Another letter outlines one of Scripps' chief rules — that newspapers
demonstrate a 15 per cent cash profit. In 1899, he wrote to his partner
Milton McRae, "You only had to do one thing, and that was to cut down
your expenses to a point where they would reach 85 cents on a dollar
received."6 When one of his papers failed to make the required 15 per
cent profit, Scripps wrote:
It is useless to send me detailed figures showing why your
expenses were increased or reduced. In a former letter, I
have indicated to you my intention of requiring nothing
much more of the Star management than to do decent,
gentlemenly, business and make a reasonable profit. So
long as you show a profit and have a clean paper, there will
be mighty few kicks coming.7
After 1908, Scripps' letters deal more than before with political
issues. His newspapers were heavily involved in promoting reform
politicians in California (Hiram Johnson, Francis Heney) and in Wash-
ington state (Miles Poindexter) as well as on the national level (LaFollette
and Wilson).
1 38 Great Ideas • Winter 1 999
Letters Among Scripps Employees
Letters among the Scripps employees provide an excellent overview
of upper and middle management as well as other aspects of day-to-day
operations of the Scripps newspaper chain. Scripps' chief lieutenants
provided extensive advice to the editors and business managers who ran
the individual newspapers in the chain; in turn, those editors and manag-
ers reported extensively on their problems and successes to those above
them in the corporate organization.
Minutes of the Editorial Advisory Board of the Scripps - McRae
League in the 1890s provide extensive information on meetings of the
Midwest Scripps papers' editors, plans on coverage of political conven-
tions (in 1892, 1896) and news coverage in general. 8 Lemuel T. Atwood,
the chain's treasurer, sent a compilation of financial records from Scripps'
key Midwest papers (in Cleveland, Cincinnati and St. Louis) to the
chain's attorney in 1901; the letter listed profits (or losses) for each paper
since the early 1880s.9 In another letter, the editor of Scripps' Tacoma
Times outlined a newspaper crusade he was about to start:
City/copy desk of the Cincinnati Post in 1910. O. O. Mclntyre (seated at the one o'clock position)
was city editor and a famous New York columnist. E. W. Scripps Papers, Ohio University
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism
139
I expect to take up a "gas fight" here within a few days. The
conditions are favorable — high priced gas. It was with a "gas fight"
in Seattle that I first gained circulation for the Star. I believe
our gains there, traceable to the gas campaign, which was
successful, netted us some 4,000 additional circulation.10
The chain's attorney, Jacob Harper, advised one editor that libel suits
could be very beneficial: "A libel suit, and particularly when it affects
public affairs, is often the greatest opportunity presented to a newspaper.
The Cincinnati Penny Paper was dragging along almost unknown in
Cincinnati until criminal libel proceedings against its Editors were begun.
A great jump in circulation followed those proceedings.""
Scripps' Autobiography and Disquisitions
The fourth section of the Scripps papers includes his Autobiography
and Disquisitions. The Autobiography is a particularly strong source on
the early years of his career, when he was working with family members in
Detroit (at the Evening News) and as he moved on to the Cleveland Press
and the St. Louis Chronicle. The Disquisitions (for which an index exists)
reflect Scripps' thoughts on a wide variety of topics — from journalism to
socialism and reform. [Oliver Knight's I Protest: Selected Disquisitions of
E. W. Scripps (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1966) provides an
excellent introduction to the Disquisitions.]
In his Autobiography, Scripps recalled the impact of the Detroit
Evening News, which had been established by his older brother, James.
This "formula" for news would provide the foundation for the Scripps
newspaper chain:
Rich rascals, rich men who were affected by petty meanness,
so called respectable men in political offices who were doing
wrong things, clergymen who had faults that unfitted them
for church service or even decent society, professional men —
doctors, lawyers and even judges on the bench — who had
depended upon the cloak of their respectability, or position,
to cover a misdeed, and many other citizens, soon found
that, as far as the reporters of the Evening News were con-
cerned, they were living in glass houses and that they had
no means of protecting themselves from public exposure.12
1 40 Great Ideas • Winter 1 999
The Ohio University Archives and Special Collections
Department has begun to scan part of the Scripps Papers;
on-line viewing of the correspondence will eventually be
available. At least part of the collection will be searchable (key
words, subject headings, date, collaborators, geographical area,)
through OhioLINKs new multimedia database linked to the
Ohio University Archives/E.W. Scripps website address
<http:www.library.ohiou.edu/libinfo/depts/archives/mss/
mssl 17.htm>; Ohio University's website <http:/
www.ohiou.edu>; and Ohio University's on-line library catalog.
The OhioLINK <http://ohiolink.edu/> central catalog is open to
users everywhere through the Internet.
Check with Dr. George Bain, Head Archivist at Ohio
University, for the status of this project or for any questions
about the Scripps papers: Dr. George Bain, 504 Alden Library,
Ohio University, Athens, OH. 45701-2978. Telephone: (740)
593-2710. FAX: (740) 593-0138. E-mail: gbainl@ohiou.edu.
A finding aid is available at the Ohio University Archives.
Endnotes
' E.H. Wells to E.W. Scripps, 1 February 1906, series 1, subseries 1.1, box 26, folder 6.
2E.H. Wells to E.W. Scripps, 1 July 1903, series 1, subseries 1.1, box 21, folder 4.
3 E.W. Scripps to W.D. Wasson, 23 January 1904, series 1, subseries 1.2, box 5, folder 3.
4 E.W. Scripps to J.C. Lee, 30 July 1902, series 1, subseries 1.2, box 5, folder 1.
5 E.W. Scripps to Hyacinth Ford, 7 November 1906, series 1, subseries 1.2, box 8, folder 8.
6 E.W. Scripps to Milton McRae, 13 March 1899, series 1, subseries 1.2, box 3, folder 11.
7 E.W. Scripps to E.F. Chase, 12 January 1901, series 2, box 5, letterbook 7, 66.
'Minutes of the Editorial Advisory Board, Scripps McRae League, 30 July 1896, series 3, subseries
3.2, box 3, folder 3.
'L.T. Atwood to Jacob C. Harper, 22 April 1901, series 3, subseries 3.2, box 4, folder 9.
10 E.H. Wells to L.T. Atwood, 22 December 1904, series 3, subseries 3-1, box 17, folder 7.
"J.C. Harper W.D. Wasson, 10 January 1907, series 3, subseries 3.1, box 23, folder 5.
12 E.W. Scripps Autobiography, series 4, box 11, 177.
Winter 1 999 • American Journalism 141
142 Winter 1999
Book Reviews
As we open Volume 16 ^American Journalism, we find ourselves with
a mixed bag of literature. If there is a common theme to these books (and
sometimes we have to stretch to find it) there is an emphasis on the work of
modernity. I point to Ted Garrard's review of one of the masters of the fund-
raising business, a position that is taking on increasing importance and
assuming increasing controversy in our universities and colleges today. The
emergence of cash crises not only affect higher education, as James Mueller's
review notes, but newspapers have been forced to combine some functions in
common communities in order to survive.
And of course, one cannot speak of modern situations and at the same
time ignore the impact of telecommunications policy, which we note in this set
of reviews. Lest one think, of course, that we are deviating from our historical
mission, we have included a number of interesting volumes beginning with
Kathy English's look at Harris and O'Malley's collection of reporting master-
pieces. Frances Wilhoit reviews one of the newest in a collection of television
encyclopedias. We are also taking a look at the social history of public relations
and finally, the media in public life in a review by Michael Antecol.
/ Editor s Choice
The Black Press: Soldiers Without Swords (Video)
California Newsreel, San Francisco, California, 1998.
It has not been our habit in the past to review video productions for
the simple reason that very few of them deal with aspects of journalism
history. The ones that do regularly find their way to the Public Broadcast-
ing System receiving exposure that is far more universal than a scholarly
journal can deliver. However, in this issue, the editor's choice is a recently
released video by California Newsreel on the history of America's black
press. And of course, before it arrived on my desk, it received a first
viewing on PBS. Nonetheless, prior exposure does not invalidate com-
ments in a journal devoted to scholarly publishing.
This hour-and-a-half study of the rise and fall of America's black
press should be required viewing in classrooms across the nation. We can
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 143
thank the rise of social history and those who practice it for revealing the
long kept secrets of those struggling journalists who were out of step with
the dominant ideological forces of their times. Had these people not
taken it upon themselves to study the impact of the African American
press, the labor journals, the monetary reform papers and the gay and
lesbian press to name just a few, students today would grow up "secure in
the knowledge, deprived as it may be, that press barons such as Pulitzer,
Hearst, Bennett and their ilk were the true journalistic heroes of a time
gone by. Soldiers Without Swords gives us a brilliant, artistic and somewhat
provocative look at a press that helped make America a different place for
minority participation in the past century.
In many ways, the format of the program is predictable. It has been
constructed in true Ken Burns style, thankfully without the dramatic
cheerleading that infects Some of Burns' better works. It is a combination
of vintage film, artistic re-creations and interviews with media historians
such as AJHA members Jane Rhodes and Patrick Washburn. The story
has style and a keen sense of drama. When I showed it to a class here at
the University of Western Ontario who are not at all familiar with
American media history, let alone African American history, the 85
minutes and 54 seconds passed without a murmur or whisper or a rattling
of paper in the classroom. When one considers that we now live in a day
and age when maintaining concentration through a 1 5 second commer-
cial is a challenge, this is an accomplishment indeed. Yet during the entire
film, subject matter is dealt with in depth; information is never sacrificed
to style.
The main thesis of the program is that the African American press
rose as part and parcel of a community attempting to legitimize its place
in American society. Before the Civil War, the press concentrated on
abolitionist issues. Following the war and throughout the period of
Reconstruction and the reaction to it, the press continued the demand for
full citizenship for its constituency. And, of course, in the 20th century,
the question of civil rights began to dominate the front pages of the press
known as Soldiers Without Swords.
The program closes with a sense of nostalgia bordering on sadness.
The producers conclude that the black press began to wither and die
because it was no longer living in a day and age when African Americans
could be defined by their communities in a world of separateness. More
and more African Americans were joining the media corporations, giving
a second expression beyond that of the exclusiveness of the black press.
One could certainly argue with this contention, while noting that large
144 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
black newspapers such as New York's Amsterdam News continue to publish
because they do have a defined black community in America's largest city
which extends beyond cultural issues to ones of geographical definition.
Harlem may not be a legally defined community, but it is real in terms of
its culture and its geography.
My only regret is that the program did not include journalist cum
lawyer Mary Ann Shadd Cary. Considering that Professor Rhodes, who
appeared on the program, has just written a substantial and qualitative
study of this abolitionist who moved to Canada prior to the Civil War to
establish the Provincial Freeman, it is an interesting omission. But perhaps
I am assuming too much. Soldiers Without Swords is a project with
considerable merit. It manages to bring together the many and diverse
studies now lining library shelves which deal with the integration of the
press and minorities striving to find a place in an often hostile and rigid
environment. This film has made a major contribution to our under-
standing of this process. Let us hope the producers do not stop making
such fine films.
>David R. Spencer, University of Western Ontario
Joint Operating Agreements: The Newspaper Preserva-
tion Act and Its Application
John C. Busterna and Robert G. Picard, Norwood, New Jersey: Ablex
Publishing Corporation, 1993. 171 pp.
The authors of this book did not set out to write a history of joint
operating agreements, but their historical analysis of that facet of the
newspaper industry may well be the true worth of the book. The authors,
however, state in the preface to Joint Operating Agreements: The Newspaper
Preservation Act and its Application that the book's "greatest practical
value" may be in informing owners of competing newspapers that there is
an alternative to the NPA. Busterna and Picard suggest that competing
newspapers would be better off combining some operations before one of
them qualifies as "failing" under the NPA. This solution is an interesting
idea, yet it is really too late because there are so few competing daily
newspapers.
The true worth of the book is in the authors' excellent historical
critique of the Newspaper Preservation Act as an example of "public
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 145
policy gone awry." The book, which is readable despite dealing with a
rather dry topic, includes a history of newspaper joint operations, a
thorough analysis of the Citizen Publishing case that provided the genesis
of the NPA and a review of the literature and theory on the topic. The
book demonstrates that the NPA has not been effective in saving dying
newspapers or saving weak newspapers that were in joint operating
agreements before the act was passed. That previous sentence might seem
confusing, but the authors' history of joint operations clears up a miscon-
ception that there were no joint operations before the NPA was passed in
1970. The book points out that joint newspaper operations go back to the
1930s, and that most cost-sharing measures that joint operating newspa-
pers use were legal under US antitrust laws before the NPA was adopted.
The authors argue that even some activities like price fixing and profit
pooling would have been permitted in a limited fashion before the NPA
was approved.
The authors' exhaustive analysis of the 1 965 US Department of
Justice suit against the joint operating newspapers in Tucson, Arizona,
(the Citizen Publishing case) and the subsequent development of the NPA
show the newspaper industry and the country missed a great opportunity
to have alternatives other than the present law. Without going into detail
here, the authors convincingly argue that the alternatives may well have
been better. Busterna and Picard point out that the failing newspaper
requirement is one of the main problems with the NPA because a newspa-
per that is already failing through poor circulation is almost impossible to
save. They argue that it would be better to allow competing newspapers to
enter cost-sharing and limited cartel arrangements before one of them is
truly failing.
But reading the authors' review of literature on the effect of compe-
tition on editorial content makes one question whether preserving
newspapers will do much to preserve diversity. The authors argue that
research shows there is little diversity in editorial content even between
competing newspapers because newspapers seek to appeal to the mass in
the middle and will not want to upset the "narrow band extending
between liberal Democrats and conservative Republicans."
St. Louisans might take issue with that assertion. For example, the
conservative Globe-Democrat trumpeted the invasion of Grenada as a
justified rollback of Communism, while the liberal Post-Dispatch con-
demned it as the worst sort of gunboat diplomacy. That difference of
opinion hardly seems a "narrow band" and yet was typical of the way the
1 46 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
papers reacted to the major and minor issues of the day. They provided a
clear choice of views in St. Louis until the Globe's death in 1986. Such
distinct viewpoints were published in competing newspapers in a number
of other cities, including Shreveport, which continues to have editorial
diversity under a unique agreement whereby the surviving newspaper is
publishing a second editorial page produced by the publisher of the failed
newspaper. Busterna and I'icard only lightly touch upon the Shreveport
model which, like the authors' suggestion for a modified NPA, may well
be too late to provide much editorial diversity in the American press.
The next few years are likely to see more newspaper closings and
the terminations of JOAs rather than attempts to form new ones. The El
Paso Herald-Post, which was in a JOA with the El Paso Times, was closed
while this book review was being written. El Paso was the last major city
in Texas to have competing dailies; such competition ended in Dallas in
1991, San Antonio in 1993 and Houston in 1995. The situation in Texas
reflects that in the rest of the country. The trend is clear, and it seems the
best bet for editorial diversity may be the establishment of new online
newspapers. Nevertheless, Joint Operating Agreements is well-written, well-
researched, and is quite valuable for anyone interested in the history and
economics of the newspaper industry.
>Jim Mueller, University of Texas at Austin
Media And Public Life
Everette E. Dennis & Robert W. Snyder (eds.), New Brunswick, New
Jersey: Transaction Publishers, 1997. 190 pp.
This compilation represents the best articles from a decade's worth
of the Freedom Forum's Media Studies Journal. It contains over 20 pieces
that may be characterized simply as short in length but large in stature.
This is true both in terms of the contributors themselves and the thoughts
evoked by their articles. Included in this volume are such wide-ranging
topics as television in public life, the history of newspapers, gender and
race equality in the media, the relationship between news and public
relations as well the future of both the media in general and the news
media in particular. The authors, drawn from academic, governmental
and professional domains, include Newton Minnow, Christopher Lasch,
Herbert Gans, Maureen Dowd, Robert MacNeil and Leo Bogart.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 147
Reading this book brought me back to my first semester as a Ph.D.
student. As part of my course load for that semester I was required to take
an introductory seminar in mass communications. Despite the course title
and despite the fact that we read hundreds and hundreds of pages from a
variety of sources, the course rather simplistically dealt with only two
complementary issues: what was thought to ail the news media and what
could be done to remedy the supposed ailments. The major ills of the
news industry were summarized simply as the corporate ownership
structures (in the Altshull vein) and the growing distance between news
consumers and news providers. Civic journalism was offered to the class
as a quick and simple remedy to those ills.
Although studies of the news media, and indeed the media in
general, can be easily dichotomized in such a context-less problem/
solution-type fashion, what the chapters in Media And Public Life make
clear is that whatever problems in the news media system one chooses to
focus on, those problems are neither so simple or so easily rectified.
Rather, the news media must be seen in the context of the larger media
systems from which they draw their existence. Accordingly, the successes
and failures of the news media can be seen as interpolations of the overall
media system. Likewise, any media system can only be seen as part of the
society in which it resides. Thus, the issue of racial equality in the news-
room is similarly an issue of equality in the overall media system and of
equality in general society.
Despite the fact that it is often done, then to partition the media in
general or the news media in particular from the rest of society is to
commit a serious error. In the language of the social sciences, such a
partitioning would lack both internal and external validity. Whether one
agrees or disagrees with any specific idea put forward in the book, the
strength of Media And Public Life as a whole is that it does not undertake
such a partitioning. In doing so it paints a more representative picture of
the role the media can and do play in the lives of American citizens.
One may, of course, ask why it is necessary to purchase a book that
represents only a compilation of previously released work. There is some
validity in that question. But, in response, I would argue that nowhere has
such an interesting and thought-provoking body of work by such a
diverse group of authors been brought together in one easily accessible
place. These articles contain many of the enduring questions that con-
tinue to haunt media practitioners, those of us who study the media, and
indeed many in the general public. It represents a focused attempt to
1 48 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
direct attention to those issues and as such should be required reading for
all those beginning their work with the media and recommended to all
those, both private or professional, who express an interest in this
vast topic.
>Michael Antecol, University of Missouri,Columbia
Museum of Broadcast Communications Encyclopedia of
Television, 3 vols.
Horace Newcomb (ed.)> Cary O'Dell (Photo Editor), Noelle Watson
(Commissioning Editor), Chicago and London: Fitzroy Dearborn
Publishers, 1997. 1,948 pp.
(Volume 1: encyclopedia entries A-F; Volume 2: encyclopedia entries
G-P; Vol. 3: encyclopedia entries QjZ, notes on contributors, index.)
A project of Chicago's Museum of Broadcast Communications, this
extraordinary encyclopedia was edited by Dr. Horace Newcomb, the
Heyne Professor of Communication at the University of Texas at Austin,
who consulted with an advisory board of 14 scholars to define the project.
They reduced the possible topics to about 1 ,000 entries focused on the
work on "major English-speaking, television producing countries, and for
that reason the bulk of the material presented here deals with television
programs, people, and topics drawn from the United States, Britain,
Canada, and Australia."
The encyclopedia, a project requiring three years of preparation and
contributions from more than 300 authors, has produced a carefully
edited and beautifully created historical presentation and interpretation of
television as produced in the United States, Britain, Canada, and Austra-
lia. The Museum of Broadcast, founded in 1987 under the direction of
Bruce DuMont, has a collection of radio and television artifacts and offers
a series of public forums and interactive programs about the social effects
of television programs, and the development of the technology underpin-
ning the medium. The museum's resources also include the A.C. Nielsen,
Jr., Research Center, "a collection comprising thousands of hours of
programming, commercials, newscasts, and special events." These
materials are available to anyone who wishes to listen to, or view the past
of, broadcast communication at the museum.
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 149
Though most of the entries in the encyclopedia are for programs,
persons, and corporations, there are included wonderfully descriptive
entries about developments in the industry, such as "Color Television,"
"Fairness Doctrine," "Educational Television," and "Cable Television."
The encyclopedia has been carefully and beautifully created. The subject
matter is riveting. The entries are interesting, descriptive, factual, schol-
arly, and illustrated with black and white photographs and corporate
logos. The entries include a broad range topics, persons, television
productions, products, and developments. The entry for "I Love Lucy"
illustrates the detail and quality of information provided in the encyclope-
dia. "I Love Lucy," U.S. Situation Comedy, is followed by a lengthy,
descriptive and insightful essay discussing the themes, successes, the
cultural setting of the program, and the detail of the series, persons and
institutions involved in its production.
As in all the entries about television programs, the information
includes a list of the cast and characters, the producers, the programming
history in number of episodes, the network, a chronology of the broad-
casts by month and year, and a bibliography for further reading. Refer-
ences to related entries are given, such as, "See also Arnaz, Desi; Ball,
Lucille; Comedy; domestic Settings; Family on Television." The entries
for television actors describe their styles and careers, and present a full
listing of performances in broadcasting, detailing the years of the various
television series, mini-series, and made-for-television movies.
The entry for " 'I Love Lucy' describes the details of the creation and
success of the show. For example, " 'I Love Lucy' debuted on CBS in Octo-
ber 1951 and was an immediate sensation. It spent four of its six prime-time
seasons as the highest-rated series on television and never finished lower than
third place." The success of "I Love Lucy" is described and analyzed in detail
and illustrated with photographs. The encyclopedia's entries describe corpora-
tions involved in the television industry. The "Cable Networks" entry, for
example, defines cable networks by describing the services, illustrating the
entry with network logos, and summarizing the complex environment in
which the networks competed and developed.
The encyclopedia includes many entries about the companies
involved in television produced and broadcast in the English-speaking
countries. The entry entitled "Cable Networks" is an example of the
encyclopedia's holistic approach to the subject of television. A definition
and description of the cable network system introduces the entry. The
channels (25)on most cable systems are listed. The list begins with Arts
and Entertainment (A & E),continues with Black Entertainment Televi-
sion (BET), and Home Shopping Network, and Nickelodeon ("children's
1 50 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
and family programming,") and ends with The Weather Channel, ("24
hours a day of weather information"). The entry describes how the cable
networks operate. Pay networks, pay-per-view networks, regional net-
works, and a history of networks are included in this entry. The history
begins with the first cable network, Home Box Office. The cable logos
provide the topic's illustrations and, as with all entries, a bibliography for
further reading is included.
> Frances Wilhoit, Indiana University
PR! A Social History of Spin
Stuart Ewen, New York: Basic Books, 1996. 480 pp.
Just how slippery is the definition of PR is clear to anyone who tries
to identify the PR activities at, say, the White House or the Pentagon — or
the Vatican or the Sears Tower for that matter. Every message and every
activity takes on aspects of PR. To avoid drawing the unhelpful conclu-
sion that public relations is in fact the whole wide world, one will be
forced to create categories that, however reasonable, will bear his or her
stamp. By the end of this exercise, we're likely to learn as much about the
person examining PR as about PR itself.
That has certainly been true for PR historians. Textbooks for
courses in public relations use an onward-and-upward model as they
describe PR beginning with press agentry and the ballyhoo of P. T.
Barnum, gaining a measure of respect at the hands of Ivy Lee and Edward
Bernays, and evolving into the professionalism apparent in the Public
Relations Society of America and the International Association of Busi-
ness Communicators. In Corporate Public Relations, free marketeer Marvin
Olasky documented a century of big business/government collaboration.
And in The Unseen Power, PR education pioneer Scott Cutlip
focused on the careers of more than a dozen pioneering practitioners,
many whom he knew. So it is not surprising that in PR! Hunter College
social historian Stuart Ewen sees public relations largely as an anti-
democratic enterprise.
This enterprise began, according to Ewen, with the populism of the
Progressive era, when muckraking journalists exposed the myriad oppres-
sions of big business. Progressives viewed the public as rational, and they
believed that social conditions would improve if the public was presented
with reasonable arguments based on fact. Corporations responded with
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 151
information campaigns of their own. During those trust-busting times
AT&T successfully "educated the public" into approving its monopoly
status.
Faith in a rational public eroded in the 1920s as the social psychol-
ogy of Gustave Le Bon gained the acceptance of opinion shapers like
Walter Lippmann and Edward Bernays. In The Crowd, Le Bon had
proclaimed, "To know the art of impressing the imagination of crowds is
to know at the same time the art of governing them." Embracing this
insight, corporate public relations learned to use market surveys and
opinion polls to forge a conceptual link between public welfare and free
enterprise.
Democratic impulses revived after this link broke in October 1929.
Big business grew increasingly alarmed as FDR used his public relations
savvy to align the middle and working classes with the federal govern-
ment. So big business fought back. Campaigns of the National Associa-
tion of Manufacturers used radio, films, and billboards — even the New
York World's Fair in 1939 — for one overarching purpose: to co-opt the
democratic expectations that grew with the New Deal.
Ewen's history of spin in the 20th century shows democratic move-
ments thwarted by massive corporate propaganda, populism corrupted
into acquiescence. But despite corporate capitalism's resources and skills,
Ewen believes that democracy can re-awaken if the isolating spell of
demography can be broken and the work of imagination, organization,
and education can unite a people for the causes of freedom and equality.
To say that PR! is the most compelling history of public relations
that has been written is to damn it with faint praise. Books about PR,
historical or not, tend either to support the practice of public relations
uncritically or to condemn it unmercifully. Ewen's book deserves superla-
tives because it is more measured and historically nuanced. If a person
were to read only one history of public relations in America, Ewen's would
be the best choice.
Not that the book is without flaws. It begins with breezy first-
person accounts of getting publicity in the New York /Wand of inter-
viewing Bernays. But these accounts give way to a denser, third-person
history after a few dozen pages in a remarkably abrupt shift in tone and
direction. Moreover, Ewen's focus on the grand narrative of capitalist PR
ignores the workaday world of most business public relations, not to
mention that of nonprofit and charitable concerns. It is important to
remember that the first book published about public relations, Herbert
Heebner Smith's Publicity and Progress, dealt not with business but with
1 52 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
religion, education, and social work. Nevertheless, Ewen has written a
provocative history, one that deserves to be widely discussed.
>John P. Ferre, University of Louisville
Pragmatic Fundraising For College Administrators
And Development Officers
Ralph Lowenstein, Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1997. 132 pp.
Ralph Lowenstein won a reputation as a highly successful fund
raising dean during his 18 years as Dean of the College of Journalism at
the University of Florida. By the time he left his post in 1994, Lowen-
stein's efforts resulted in 68 different endowment funds valued at more
than $20 million.
Pragmatic Fundraising is part memoir and part self-help guide in
which Lowenstein shares with readers strategies and techniques for
successful fundraising, for example: how to recognize and approach a
potential donor, how to organize a fundraising committee, how to
approach foundations, and how to write compelling proposals. The book
also contains more than 20 exhibits ranging from letters of invitation, to
proposal cover letters, and even a letter of condolence.
From a professional fundraiser's perspective, what is refreshing about
Pragmatic Fundraising is Lowensteins understanding that college adminis-
trators must increasingly play a highly active role in fund development
activities. Lowenstein, as it turned out, not only liked fundraising but
ended up spending half his time involved in fundraising activities. What
makes Lowenstein a good fundraiser is his ability to form relationships
with potential donors, cultivate their interest, respond to their needs and,
most importantly, know when to ask for the order. Indeed, Pragmatic
Fundraising is full of helpful examples and anecdotes of this "high-touch"
form of fundraising, which obviously has been so successful for
Lowenstein.
However, fundraising today goes beyond "high touch" and has
become very "high tech," something to which Lowenstein pays little
attention and which is a major shortcoming of the book. Fundraisers
today require a high degree of knowledge in the areas of data manage-
ment, market segmentation, and tax and legal areas. Unfortunately, little
attention is given in the book to these matters or to highly used fund-
raising vehicles such as telemarketing, direct mail or planned gifts,
Winter 1999 " American Journalism 153
including annuities, bequests or charitable uni-trusts. These are important
elements of fundraising that every development officer or administrator
must come to understand to be successful.
In conclusion, Pragmatic Fundraising is a useful introduction to the
do's and dont's of fundraising. However, in reading the book, college
administrators and fundraising wanabees must themselves be pragmatic in
understanding its limitations.
>Ted Garrard, The University of Western Ontario
Studies in Newspaper and Periodical History: 1995
Annual
Michael Harris and Tom O'Malley (eds.), Westport, CT: Greenwood
Press, 1997. 264 pp.
The range of scholarship collected in Studies in Newspaper and
Periodical History: 1995 Annual is vast indeed. Spanning the period from
1 700 through the 1 970s, with articles covering the United States, En-
gland, Wales, Germany and Australia, this book addresses the very role of
serial publication within the wider sphere of cultural history. In its
examinations of serials ranging from the 18th century's Tatler through to
the emergence of the late 20th century's Rolling Stone, this collection seeks
to establish the serial as a core element in the historical study of print.
The work is edited by Michael Harris, a Lecturer in History at the
University of London and founder of the Journal of Newspaper and
Periodical History from which this work is culled, and Tom O'Malley,
Senior Lecturer in Media Studies at the University of Glanmorgan, Wales.
Both scholars contribute articles to this book, with Harris' opening essay
Locating the Serial providing the raison d'etre for the entire collection.
Harris' piece raises questions about the manner in which serial publica-
tion has been historically studied, suggesting a need for wider debates
about the role of the serial in print culture. He argues that a "worn-out
form of cultural elitiara" has placed the central components or serial
publication — the newspaper and magazine — secondary to book publica-
tion as a source of study. Happily though, he argues, "like a long-unused
engine, the 18th century printed serial is spluttering into life."
Following that introductory essay, much of the rest of this book
seeks to prove the importance of serial publication in establishing shared
concerns over social issues. This covers a wide range of specific issues of
1 54 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
various eras and locales. New York University's Amy Beth Aronson
discusses the role at "Lacelles" magazines and women's self-representation
in the early years of American democracy, effectively arguing that the
American women's magazine promised revolutionary possibilities in
providing redress for women's enforced silence in the public sphere. In
another piece, Tom O'Malley and his Wales' colleagues Stuart Allan and
Andrew Thompson explore the relationship between the newspaper press
in Wales and issues of national identity, pointing out a need to recognize
the way in which the press reflected conflict within Welsh society over the
meaning of Welsh identity. Twentieth century, post- World War II Ger-
many is discussed in Jessica Gienow-Hochfs fascinating study of the
influence of the American newspaper Neue Zeitung's coverage of the
Nuremberg Nazi war criminal trials in the establishment of a collective
German guilt for the crimes of Adolph Hitler.
Researchers of a certain dominant demographic will most certainly
enjoy reading Cleveland State University David Atkins' analysis of Rolling
Stones coverage of the American New Left during the late 1960s. Atkins
discusses the role of the underground press in general in the turbulent late
'60s and the myth of Rolling Stone in particular. He documents the
publication's evolution from its genesis as an "underground" alternative
voice that espoused both political and cultural change through to its later-
day mainstream commercial popularity when it sought to distance itself
from radical politics. Ultimately, he concludes that the goal of incisive,
partisan reporting is incompatible with a serial's economic success; in
essence telling us, Rolling Stone sold out.
This book concludes with an engaging essay by Acadia University's
Glenn Wilkinson on the use of the newspaper as a serious source for
historians. Wilkinson discusses the mental and physical problems of
newspaper research, including the researcher's tendency to get side tracked
within the spiraling spools of microfilm by tales of gruesome murders or
the score in the Cup final. He offers practical advice for the historian new
to the newspaper as a source: take a sweater (microfilm rooms are always
cold); don't read at lunch (your eyes need a rest). Wilkinson is clearly an
advocate of mining the newspaper for research gems. Indeed he states that
exploring the newspaper can provide great value to "those willing to get
their historical hands dirty."
Wise words indeed for those of us engaged in the pursuit of under-
standing the role of serial publications through history.
>Kathy English, Ryerson Polytechnical University
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 155
Wireless: Strategically Liberalizing the Telecommuni-
cations Market
Brian J.W. Regli, Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum, 1997. 296 pp.
In these times, when market forces are close to automatically
championed as a panacea for society's ills, it's notable to come across a
mainstream work of telecommunications policy that doesn't mindlessly
jump on the same bandwagon — and that also attempts to ground its
analysis and recommendations in historical and comparative terms.
Author Brian J.W. Regli (most recently employed at a management and
communications consultancy that serves such clients as NYNEX, Bell
Atlantic, and BellSouth) attempts to move the telecommunications policy
debate past the dichotomizing choices of market regulation versus state
regulation. Neither a mob of companies scrambling to do each other in
nor a lumbering state monopoly has in his view achieved the sustainable
growth of telecommunications services nor the goal of broad access
worldwide
The absence of large infrastructural investments of the kind needed
by telephony and other cabled services makes the wireless systems of the
book's title (such as cellular telephone, paging systems, and their variants)
uniquely positioned to finally deliver the promises of access, accessibility,
and increased democracy, provided that governments and corporations
make the proper decisions today. His policy proposal is what he labels
"strategic liberalization" — a broad-based regulatory framework shared and
put into practice by government and industry to promote wireless and its
role in economic development. Regli argues for "a more pro-active role for
government institutions and regulatory bodies worldwide," not in terms
of limiting activities of telecommunications developers, but "to further
liberalize and develop" certain areas of the economy — such as wireless
telecommunications — that are seen to benefit entire societies. In this way,
he attempts to set himself apart from the free market radicals as well as
from what he calls leftist protectionists.
Of primary relevance for communication historians are his policy
analyses of telecommunications laws and regulation in four countries
from generally the 1960s through the mid-1990s. While recent develop-
ments in the US, Britain, Russia, and Brazil illustrate the problems
associated with swinging too far toward state or corporate control, Regli
sees opportunities in all these countries to beneficially moderate these
extreme responses. His overview of relevant acts, policies, and their legal
milieus is useful for anyone with interests in the recent history of telecom-
munications policy. However, some features of the book limit its useful-
1 56 Book Reviews • Winter 1 999
ness for communication historians, not the least of which is its constant
use of cute "green'analogies which, in this case, tend to trivialize the
matter — for example, equating telecommunications markets to different
ecologies and describing their growth and development as needing the
nutrients of capital, customers, and the like, or concluding the book with
a call for "telecommunications bio-diversity."
More seriously, a conspicuous absence in a book on global regula-
tion and economics is an analysis of the imperatives of capitalism as they
shape this process and its priorities. Telecommunications companies,
governments, and other constituencies are presented here as autonomous
players in a giant game of "Let's Make a Deal," instead of as positioned
and working within the global capitalist system and its drive toward
increasing concentration of power and resources. Corporations, technolo-
gies, and their needs are therefore presented as natural, autonomous, or as
self-evident instead of as produced and pressured by goals of profit-
maximization and expansion. More engagement with the vast literature of
political economy and communications (recent representatives include
Mosco, Garnham, Murdock, Wasko, McChesney, and Golding) would
deepen the analysis made and the conclusions reached.
A second shortcoming is the book's reliance on two theoretical
perspectives which mesh nicely with the absence of remarks about
capitalism: technological determinism and modernization theory. The
notion that communication technology is the source of social change
makes it easier to promote technology alone (in this case, wireless tele-
communications) as the means of achieving economic development. To
find such a perspective in this work is not surprising. Regli intends this
book as a combination of academic study, policy analysis, and corporate
strategy (in practice, it is more of the latter two). For its intended audi-
ence of mainstream North American telecommunications scholars,
think-tank members, and CEOs worried about the bottom line, this mix
is (all too often) suitable.
In sum, the book is useful for its description of different policy
orientations regarding telecommunications and its account of recent
developments in telecommunication regulation and policy in a handful of
countries. However, for conclusions more complex and troubling than we
simply need to get together to make the best decisions, one should go to
work that is grounded more clearly in the historical dynamics of
corporatization, capitalism, and the intricate realities they seek more
successfully to understand.
>James Hamilton, SUNY Geneseo
Winter 1999 • American Journalism 157
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A Journal of Media History Spring 1999
Volume 16, Number 2
American *.
lournalism
Editor Shirley Biagi
California State
University, Sacramento
Book Review Editor David Spencer
University of
Western Ontario
Assistant Editor Timi Ross Poeppelman
California State
University, Sacramento
Design Gwen Amos
California State
University, Sacramento
Former Editors William David Sloan
University of Alabama
Gary Whitby
East Texas State
John Pauly
Saint Louis University
Wallace B. Eberhard
University of Georgia
1999 American Journalism
Historians Association Officers.
President Eugenia Palmegiano
Saint Peter's College
1st Vice President William David Sloan
University of Alabama
2nd Vice President David Copeland
Emory Henry College
Administrative Secretary. Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist
University
Treasurer Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State
University
Historian Alf Pratte
Brigham Young
University
Board of Directors .David Abrahamson
John Coward
David Davies
Wallace Eberhard
Kathleen Endres
John Ferre
Tracy Gottlieb
Pat Washburn
Julie Williams
Definition of History
For purposes of written research papers and publications, the term history
shall be seen as a continuous and connected process emphasizing but not
necessarily confined to subjects of American mass communications. History
should be viewed not in the context of perception of the current decade, but as
part of a significant and time-conditioned human past.
Editorial Purpose
American Journalism publishes articles, book reviews and correspondence
dealing with the history of journalism. Contributions may focus on social,
economic, intellectual, political or legal issues. American Journalism also welcomes
articles that treat the history of communication in general; the history of
broadcasting, advertising and public relations; the history of media outside the
United States; theoretical issues in the literature or methods of media history; and
new ideas and methods for the teaching of media history. Papers will be evaluated
in terms of the authors systematic, critical, qualitative and quantitative investiga-
tion of all relevant, available sources with a focus on written, primary documents
but not excluding current literature and interviews.
Copyright
©American Journalism Historians Association 1999. Articles in the journal
may be photocopied for use in teaching, research, criticism and news reporting,
in accordance with Sections 107 and 108 of the U. S. Copyright Law. For all
other purposes, including electronic reproduction and/or distribution, users must
obtain written permission from the editor.
Submission Guidelines
Authors submitting research manuscripts for publication as articles should
send five manuscript copies (including an abstract with each). Manuscripts
should follow the Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, and should not exceed
the recommended maximum length of 20 pages. Research manuscripts are blind
refereed.
Great Ideas is designed to showcase new approaches and information about
the teaching of media history. Great Ideas are typically three to six manuscript
pages. Authors of Great Ideas should first query the editor.
American Journalism is produced on Macintosh computers using Microsoft
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submit their work on PC or Macintosh disk, formatted in Microsoft Word 5.0
or 6.0.1.
Send Submissions to Professor Shirley Biagi
American Journalism
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Book Reviews To review or propose a
book review contact:
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A Journal of Media History Spring 1999
Volume 16, Number 2
J American < .
ournalism
Editor's Note 9
"Those Who Toil and Spin ": Female Textile Operatives' Publications in
New England and the Response to Working Conditions, 1840-1850 . . 17
Mary M. Cronin
The author explores the nations first factory publications which were
predominantly written and edited by women.
Dissent and Control in a Woman Suffrage Periodical: 30 Years of the
Wisconsin Citizen 39
Elizabeth V. Burt
Through her study of the Wisconsin Citizen, the author observes that
the role of reform publications had a positive as well as negative impact on the
women's movement.
Flying Around the World in 1889 — In Search of the Archetypal
Wanderer 63
Paulette D. Kilmer
This article attempts to illuminate how and why Nellie Bly, and not
Elisabeth Bisland, became a cultural icon as the archetypal wanderer.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 5
"There is Nothing in This Profession . . . That a Woman Cannot Do" :
Doris E. Fleischman and the Beginnings of Public Relations 85
Susan Henry
This article focuses on pioneer Doris E. Fleischman's role during the
early days of public relations.
Great Ideas: Rethinking Objectivity in Journalism and History: What
Can We Learn from Feminist Theory and Practice? 113
Carolyn Kitch
The author suggests viewing journalists and the practice of historical
research through the lens of feminist theory.
Book Review Editor's Note 121
Book Reviews 121
Editor's Choice: Big Trouble 121
By J. Anthony Lukas
Reviewed by David R. Spencer
Dispatches From The Revolution: Russia 1916-1918 124
By Morgan Phillips
Reviewed by Roy E. Blackwood
Fleet Street Around The Clock 126
By Gordon Allan London
Reviewed by J. O. Bay Ian
French Newspapers' Opinion on the American Civil War .... 129
By George M. Blackburn
Revieiued by Andrew C Holman
Rampant Women Suffragists and the Right of Assembly .... 130
By Linda Lumsden
Reviewed by Tamara Baldwin
Table of Contents • Spring 1 999
Robert Worth Bingham and the Southern Mystique:
From the Old South to the New South and Beyond 132
By William E. Ellis
Reviewed by John P. Ferre
The World According to Hollywood: 1918 to 1939 134
By Ruth Vasey
Reviewed by G. Tom Poe
Tombstone's Epitaph 136
By Douglas D. Martin
Reviewed by Joseph A. Russomanno
Spring 1999 • American Journalism
Spring 1999
Editor s Note
'omen — more than 100 years of their role in the history of
''American mass media — is the single focus of the articles in
this issue of American Journalism. Traditional histories of mass media in
America still overlook the important role that many women played in
journalism's formation. The articles in this issue add substantial scholar-
ship on the subject, spanning two centuries — from the publication of
activist labor periodicals of the 1800s to the development of public
relations strategies in the 1900s.
"Those Who Toil and Spin" is the subject of Mary Cronin's exami-
nation of textile factory workers' publications, which writers used to rally
women to change working conditions in the textile industry. Lamonica
says these New England periodicals, including The Lowell Offering and
The Voice of Industry, may have been the first labor publications for
women.
Activists in the women's suffrage movement are chronicled by
Elizabeth Burt in her article, "Dissent and Control in a Woman Suffrage
Periodical: 30 Years of the Wisconsin Citizen." The women who published
the Citizen chose to downplay disagreements among their members, Burt
says, rather than become an outlet for conflicting constituencies.
A comparison of the lives of two early female pioneers is the focus
of Paulette Kilmer's "Flying Around the World in 1889 — In Search of the
Archetypal Wanderer." Kilmer examines the portrayal of two pioneering
adventurers — Nellie Bly (Elizabeth Cochrane) and Elizabeth Bisland — to
explain why Bly attracted so much media attention and Bisland was left
largely unnoticed.
The early career of Doris E. Fleischman, a woman who is central in
the history of public relations, is the focus of Susan Henry's study, "There
Is Nothing in This Profession. ..That A Woman Cannot Do." Henry has
published extensively on the lives of Fleischman and her husband,
Edward L. Bernays, but here Henry gives specific attention to
Fleischman's early working years to capture the working collaboration
Fleischman and Bernays and the impact of that relationship on the
development of the public relations profession. Included with this article,
Spring 1999 • American Journalism
courtesy of Henry, are two stunning photographs of Fleischman,
published here for the first time.
This issue's Great Ideas, written by Carolyn Kitch, is a description
of her personal journey, using feminist theory as a different lens to help
focus her study and teaching of journalism history. Kitch asks, "What
Can We Learn from Feminist Theory and Practice?"
David Spencer presents another interesting collection of book
reviews, beginning on page 107. His Editor's Choice, Big Trouble by J.
Anthony Lukas, offers unusual insight into media in the Gilded Age.
Other reviews cover books about the suffragist movement, overseas media,
stories about the history of some significant US newspapers, and a
chronicle of the early years of Hollywood.
This is the sixth issue of American Journalism published at Califor-
nia State University, Sacramento, and the initial flood of Great Ideas that
I received at the beginning of my tenure as Editor has dimished to a
trickle. I know that many of you have Great Ideas to share with our
readers, so this is a plea to you to sit down and write them out and send
them to me — six pages double-spaced of your best teaching, learning or
research hints for those of us who care about media history. Great Ideas
are always welcome at American Journalism.
Shirley Biagi
Editor
10 Editor's Note • Spring 1999
American Journalism
Back Issues
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Nos. 1-2 (combined issue)
Volume 1 1
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Spring 1999 • American Journalism
11
12
Spring 1999
American Journalism Reviewers
David Abrahamson
Northwestern University
June Adamson
University of Tennessee
Donna Allen
Women's Institute for Freedom of the Press
Perry Ashley
University of South Carolina
Donald Avery
Penn State University
Gerald Baldasty
University of Washington
Warren "Sandy" Barnard
Indiana State University
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University of Kansas
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University of Maryland
Tom Beell
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University of Georgia
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University of Utah
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University of North Carolina
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Virginia Commonwealth University
Joshua Brown
American Social History Project
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Rider University
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Colorado State University
Elizabeth Burt
University of Hartford
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University of Mississippi
James Carey
Columbia University
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University of Florida
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University of Tulsa
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Emory & Henry College
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University of Southern California
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University of South Florida
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University of Maine
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University of Iowa
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University or Georgia
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University of Akron
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University of Central Florida
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism
13
Tony Fellow
California State University, Fullerton
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University or Louisville
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Calvin College
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Glenn Himebaugh
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Nathaniel Hong
University of Washington
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Mount St. Clare College
Herbert Howard
University of Tennessee
Carol Sue Humphrey
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University of Minnesota
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University of Florida
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New Directions for Women
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Everett Community College
14
American Journalism Reviewers • Spring 1999
Maclyn McClary
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University of Georgia
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University of North Carolina
James Mooney
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University of Colorado
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University of Missouri, St. Louis
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Northern Illinois University
Jack Nelson
Brigham Young University
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University of St. Thomas
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Texas Christian University
Ron Ostman
Cornell University
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Anna Paddon
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Oscar Patterson
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Carol Polsgrove
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Montana Historical Society
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Ford Risley
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University of Minnesota
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Joe Scanlon
Carleton University
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UC San Diego
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Ted Smythe
California State University Fullerton
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Valparaiso University
Spring 1999 • American Journalism
15
Ronald Stotyn
Georgia Southern University
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University of Minnesota
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American University
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Tennessee State Universit)'
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Northwestern University
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University of Colorado
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Samford University
Betty Winfield
University of Missouri
16
American Journalism • Spring 1999
'Those Who Toil and Spin":
Female Textile Operatives'
Publications in New England and
the Response to Working
Conditions, 1840- 1850
By Mary M. Cronin
This article examines the publications produced by antebellum
female textile operatives in New England and, specifically, their responses
to working conditions. The article examines arguments for the 10-hour
day, concerns about wages, work speedups, the dignity of labor and,
related, discontent over class distinctions and middle class hegemony. The
research highlights how the unique, gendered nature of these publications
influenced the topics of discussion and the rhetoric used.
In May 1846, a writer for the Lowell, Massachusetts-based Voice
Of Industry admonished the Massachusetts legislature after it
failed to approved a 10-hour day for laborers. Factory workers,
many of whom toiled 12 to 14 hours a day in poorly ventilated cotton
mills with only brief meal breaks, had lobbied the legislature on several
prior occasions without success. Despite this, workers redoubled their
efforts and sent a 15,000-signature petition to lawmakers. It, too, failed to
Mary M. (Cronin) Lamonica is an Associate Professor of Communication at Stonehill
College in Easton, Massachusetts.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 J
spur legislation, and caused a Voice Of Industry writer, (known only as
E.R.) to state:
The legislative Committee have recently told 1 5,000 of us, we are
fools — that the evils we have petitioned them to remove, do not
exist, notwithstanding we have worked day after day and experi-
enced all these evils — that their valuable time is of too much
importance to waste in the manner, and in fact, if some evils do
exist, they are so very few that they area of not much consequence,
and are just what we must expect; and further, the generous corpo-
rations will look after these things, so there is no fear but we shall
have our just dues and they might have added (as they no doubt
thought) that we were poor and consequently beneath notice.1
The article demonstrated that factory workers understood that
important changes in social, political, and economic relationships had
occurred in antebellum society. The pre-industrial society of their parents'
and grandparents' generations had disappeared, and in its place a class-
based society emerged, many of whose members equated money with
power.
These first generations of factory workers recognized that, like
artisans and mechanics before them, newspapers were a necessary vehicle
to lobby for social, political and economic goals." Such journals allowed
workers to regularly publicize their agenda to broader audiences than
lectures or broadsides could reach.
First Labor Publications for Women
The majority of the nation's first factory publications were estab-
lished by those operatives who had the least power in society — women.
These journals — which emerged only in New England's large, planned
textile cities in which female labor predominated — also appear to have
been the first labor publications for women.3 Labor publications for male
artisans and mechanics first appeared in the late 1820s, the products
primarily of unions and political parties.4
Despite having only two to three free hours a day, New England's
female textile operatives produced many literary and labor publications.
The first and most widely known was The Lowell Offering ( 1 840- 1 845).
Four other publications subsequently emerged in Lowell: The Operatives'
Magazine ( 1 84 1 - 1 842) , The Operative ( 1 843-45) , The Voice of Industry
Cronin • Spring 1999
(1845 - 1848), and The New England Offering (1847 - 1850); in
Cabotville (Chicopee), Massachusetts, The Olive Leaf and Tactory Girls'
Repository (1 843); in Fall River, Massachusetts, The Wampanoag and
Operatives' Journal (1 842); and another, The Tactory Girl's Advocate
( 1 845) , possibly was published in Boston. Five other journals were
published in New Hampshire: The Tactory Girl { 184 1-43); The Tactory
Girl and Ladies' Garland ( 1 842); The Tactory Girl's Garland ( 1 844); The
Tactory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate (1846); and The Tactory
Girls' Album and Mechanics' Offering (1846-47), all based in Exeter.5
The Lowell Offering gained acclaim when author Charles Dickens
visited Lowell and was surprised to find the operatives both literate and
literary. He praised The Lowell Offering, stating "It will compare advanta-
geously with a great many English annuals."6 Since then, contemporary
historians studying the industrial revolution, women's issues, and labor
history frequently have cited the publication. The other factory publica-
tions have rarely been examined, however, leaving them largely unknown
to both scholars and the general public.7
This research examines female operatives' responses to working
conditions in both the labor and the genteel publications. More specifi-
cally, the article examines arguments for the 10-hour day, concerns about
wages, work speedups, the dignity of labor and, relatedly, discontent
about growing class distinctions and middle class hegemony. The author
sought to examine how the unique, gendered nature of these publications
influenced the topics of discussion or the rhetoric used. The author also
sought studies of the predominantly-male labor press of the time to
examine those publications' concerns and rhetoric.
Unfortunately, few studies which focus specifically on the artisans'
and mechanics' press prior to 1850 exist. Two studies (which examined
several of the publications) have shown that the topics which concerned
the early labor publications for mechanics and artisans included attempts
"to unify the working classes in their struggle to become part of middle
America"; free, tax-supported public schools; suffrage for all free men; free
trade; abolishment of the armed forces; direct taxation; fully equipped
militias; an end to capital punishment; government protection of the
working classes; repeal of chartered monopolies; and changes in lending
and borrowing laws.8
The author examined the entire content of every existing issue of
five of the publications which emerged in antebellum New England
factory communities. Those five journals include three that were labor-
oriented — The Voice of Industry, The Tactory Girl's Album and Operatives'
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 19
Advocate, the Factory Girl's Album and Mechanics' Offering, and two
genteel litetary magazines, The Lowell Offering and The New England
Offering. These were chosen because all had lengthy publication runs and
most of the issues are still available for study. Some publications, such as
The Factory Girl and The Wampanoag and Operatives' Journal, are barely
extant; only scattered or single copies are available. Others, such as The
Factory Girl's Advocate, are no longer extant.
Women and the Industrial Revolution
Although the nation's earliest textile mills established by Samuel
Slater in Rhode Island in 1790 relied on whole families for their labor
force, Slater's model wasn't followed by the larger industrial concerns
which emerged in the next two decades.9 The leading textile corporation
in antebellum America in the 1820s, the Boston Manufacturing Com-
pany, purposely recruited single farm women for the majority of its
workforce. The Boston Associates, as the group became known, revolu-
tionized textile production and urban industrialization in America
through its creation of planned factory communities and textile opera-
tions which housed every step in cloth production, from the raw materials
to the finished, printed cloth, in one building.10 The Boston Associates
furnished the capital, planned the communities, built the factories,
recruited the labor pool, and marketed their finished goods."
The Associated planned every aspect of their industrial communities
in the hopes of avoiding the grinding poverty, filth, and disease that were
prevalent in Britain's textile cities. As such, the Associates' textile opera-
tions were located in rural areas near rivers to take advantage of the clean
water power. The workforce was planned with particular care. Cognizant
of the shortage of male labor, and wanting to avoid potential union
activity, management recruited women. Single farm women, in particular,
were sought by factory owners because they were available in large
numbers, were used to working long hours, had some experience helping
their mothers produce cloth via spinning and weaving at home, were
literate, seen as highly virtuous and most importantly, were viewed as
deferential to patriarchal authority.12 Women were readily available and
they needed the work, since the goods they once produced at home —
clothing and household items — were now being made more inexpensively
and faster by industry.
Despite these facts, other emerging industries had largely ignored
women. Textile managers recruited the women by initially offering
20 Cronin • Spring 1 999
relatively high wages and clean, well-run boarding houses with female
matrons and strict codes of conduct for occupants. City planners also
built educational, cultural and religious facilities for the workers. Their
efforts paid off. The emerging mill cities, such as Lowell, had largely
homogenous workforces that were almost 80 percent female, under 30
years of age, and from rural origins.13
This group assumed that if they created a model city — one with
clean, well-supervised housing, schools, lecture halls, cultural activities,
churches, and a benevolently paternal system of overseers — a harmonious
atmosphere would prevail.'4 Initially it did. The first wave of female
operatives to live in the planned community of Lowell, Massachusetts,
starting in 1823, appeared to have few grievances against the factory
system. But as the 1830s and 1840s progressed, operatives complained
about work speedups, wage cuts, and increased boarding house charges
and conditions, as well as the hours of labor.15
The very fact that Lowell was largely a female city allowed operatives
to develop a sense of labor and gender solidarity relatively easily. Given
what the Boston Associates thought was careful planning, Lowell's factory
managers were taken by surprise in February 1834 when one-sixth of their
female employees struck to protest wage cuts brought on by overproduc-
tion and a slow market.16 Rumors of the impending salary reductions
were enough to cause the women to hold meetings, circulate petitions
and, in some factories, completely stop work. Rallies and pledges by the
women that they wouldn't return to work until the pay cut was rescinded
were short-lived. The strike collapsed within a week after the strikers
found themselves financially drained and evicted from their boarding-
houses.17 Most of the women returned to work, while others returned
home.18
A financial panic in 1837 ended this first organizing effort. A more
systematic effort wouldn't appear until 1845, led by Sarah Bagley, who
later served as editor of The Voice Of Industry, with the formation of the
Female Labor Reform Association. Although the group's concerns in-
cluded health and safety issues, increasing wages, and boarding house
conditions, the group's primary goal was achieving a 10-hour day. By the
1840s, however, much of the labor agitation had shifted from street
corners and meeting houses and into the pages of the press.
Voices of Reform
The publications emerged as the textile cities fell into an economic
decline, the victims of their own industrial success. Rapid over-expansion
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 2 1
in less than two decades flooded the marketplace with cheap textiles,
forcing drastic cost-cutting. Operatives denounced the long hours of
labor, low pay, and subsequent health and educational concerns in their
journals. They also used their journals to address their disenchantment
with class divisions.
Labor historian Philip Foner has noted that the publications'
importance "cannot be overemphasized. Workers smuggled them into the
mills and they were eagerly read and passed along. These magazines
stimulated and helped build the Female Labor Reform Associations of the
forties [1840s]."19
The publications were largely helmed by men, despite the fact that
numerous women wrote for, and served as co-editors of, the publications.
Initially, The Lowell Offering, The Operatives' Magazine, and The Voice of
Industry were supervised by male editors, although women later ran the
publications. The Voice Of Industry only devoted substantial space to
women operatives' issues during the year of 1846-47 when textile worker
Sarah Bagley assumed the editorship. The Factory Girl and Ladies' Garland
and The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate also were established
and run by a man, Charles Dearborn. Despite Dearborn's overall supervi-
sion, an early editorial in The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives Advocate
stated that it was:
edited by an association of females who are operatives in factories,
and consequently are well qualified to judge the wants of those
whose cause they will advocate; and having borne in common with
them their burdens and afflictions, are proper judges to administer
an antidote that will alleviate their wrongs, and prevent a relapse of
those abuses which have so long been heaped upon them.20
Dearborn changed the publication's name in May 1847 to The Factory
Girl's Album and Mechanics' Offering in an attempt to broaden its appeal
and readership. The new publication billed itself as the "devoted cham-
pion, not only to the operative of the mills, but to the laboring classes
generally."
Circulation figures for most of the publications are largely un-
known. Most had subscription agents throughout New England and
some, such as The Lowell Offering, claimed subscribers in most states and
in several countries overseas.21 Who those subscribers were — other
operatives, artisans and mechanics, early supporters of labor or women's
rights, or simply the curious — remains unknown, as the publications
never addressed the issue and no records exist. Similarly, most of the
22 Cronin • Spring 1999
publications never listed their circulations. Of the two that did, The Olive
Leaf and Factory Girl's Repository claimed a circulation of nearly 1,000
copies in 1843." In 1846, The Voice of Industry claimed a weekly circula-
tion of 2,000 copies.23
Magazines Never Opposed Hard Labor
Literature and poetry on non-labor topics predominated in the
genteel magazines, although some editorials, stories and poetry occasion-
ally dealt with labor topics. The female labor reform journals stood in
contrast to these literary publications by devoting virtually all of their
space to labor issues and concerns. Like their genteel counterparts, the
labor publications also offered readers serialized novels, short stories and
poetry, yet virtually all of the copy focused on the plight of factory
operatives, especially females.
It should be pointed out that even the pro-labor publications'
editors never opposed hard labor. Rather, they denounced what many
considered to be the unhealthy conditions and poor treatment which
resulted from such labor. Most of the operatives (writers and editors
included) had worked from an early age on their parents' farms and were
willing to do the same textile work (i.e., spinning and weaving) that their
mothers had done at home.24 Then, too, they did not oppose the estab-
lishment of factories and subsequent mechanization of the nation. As
historian Walter Licht notes, unlike Europeans, antebellum Americans
welcomed machines with great enthusiasm. "Machines replaced few
workers; with an expanding agricultural base and with labor therefore
lured to the land, machines filled a vacuum. The machine did not emerge
as a phantom in the midst of the new American republic, as a threat
necessarily either to livelihoods or social order."25
Like the editors of the artisans' and mechanics' press, the greatest
concern of many of the editors at the operatives' journals (particularly the
pro-labor publications) was achieving a 10-hour day.26 Labor agitation for
the 10-hour day dated to 1791 when a group of Philadelphia carpenters
struck, demanding a shorter day.27 The demands did not become regular
for three decades, however, until President Martin Van Buren approved a
10-hour day in 1840 for federal workers, thus giving hope to other
workers, who increased their lobbying efforts.28
As labor historians Philip Foner and David Roediger have noted,
reducing work hours "constituted the prime demand in the class conflicts
that spawned America's first industrial strike, its first citywide trade union
Spring 1999 •American Journalism 23
councils, its first general strikes, its first organization uniting skilled and
unskilled workers, its first strike by females, and its first attempts at
regional and national labor organization." The issue unified "workers
across the lines of craft, race, sex, skill, age, and ethnicity."29
Both the labor and the genteel literary publications were uniform in
their reasons why a 10-hour day was necessary — workers' health would
improve and the extra time would allow operatives to better themselves
educationally. The Voice of Industry used both arguments in its quest to
obtain the 10-hour day. The newspaper was the joint product of the New
England Workingman's Association and the Female Labor Reform
League. Virtually every issue, both under its male editor, William Young
(1845-46), and later its female editor, Sarah Bagley (1846-47), contained
editorials, articles, and letters to the editor supporting the 10-hour day.
The newspaper never minced words about labor conditions or its disen-
chantment with middle class hegemony, living up to its slogan "Hearken
to me, I also will show mine opinion."
A December 26, 1845 editorial, for example, stated factory opera-
tives labored longer than other members of the working classes, yet also
played to a commonly-held belief that women were more fragile than
men.30 "Day laborers in the fresh air only work 10 hours the longest day
in the year .... But here are poor, tender girls, in a confined atmosphere,
drawing into their lungs the floating fibers of materials, forced to labor 13
hours in a day — rise in the dark and go home amidst snow and sleet —
and some of them children."31
Later articles in The Voice of Industry were even more pointed about
health concerns. One said, "The human frame with its delicate machinery
is more worn and broken by too many hours' labor, than by hard labor
itself .... It is the long hours of weary standing or sitting in the bad air of
the factories which destroy and slowly undermine the human condition,
and produce premature debility and finally death."32 Another stated,
"Children and young persons require considerable recreation in the open
air in order to produce a proper development of the physical structure.
Variety of motion is one of the principal agents in the establishment of
good corporal health." The article added that "extreme toil . . . has also a
debilitating effect upon the mind."33
The Voice of Industry s editors also made clear that reduced hours of
labor would allow operatives to devote themselves to educational im-
provement, thus elevating the working classes and society as a whole.
Artisans' and mechanics' publications made similar arguments, stating
that education would allow the working classes to enter the ranks of the
24 Cronin • Spring 1999
middle classes.34 Voice of Industry writer Huldah J. Stone said the 10-hour
day would let operatives "cultivate all our faculties in that way and
manner which shall most increase our own usefulness — add to the good
of our fellow creatures and honor the great Creator."35
The newspaper's editors and writers were highly critical of operatives
who sped back to the factory gates before meal breaks were over rather
than spending their free minutes reading. One article stated, "Have they
been so long accustomed to watching machinery that they have actually
become dwarfs in intellect — and lost to all sense of their own God — like
powers of mind — yea, more, have they any minds more than the beasts
that perisheth? If so, why are they not in their rooms storing their minds
with useful practical knowledge which shall fit them high and noble
stations in the moral and intellectual world?"36 The issue was a personal
one for Editor Sarah Bagley, who was angered that long work hours made
her unable to improve her education.37 Bagley, like many of the opera-
tives, initially found the mill cities attractive because they offered culture,
something her rural town of Laconia, New Hampshire, could not.
Libraries, evening classes, lyceum lectures, and literary circles flourished in
many industrial cities.38
Argued for Health and Education
The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate also used health
and education arguments in supporting the 10-hour day. A February
1 846 article noted:
Look at the mere child not 1 1 years of age, that is . . .
compelled to labor from five o'clock in the morning till
seven at night, making 14 hours for a day's work. And
I would ask what opportunity a person thus situated has of
improving, and cultivating her intellectual faculties. While
on the other hand, had they but 10 hours to labor, they could
secure for themselves a comfortable maintenance, without
impairing their health, and a privilege of obtaining a good
education, whereby they might become useful and respectable
members of society.39
The publication noted that it "has heretofore been the unflinching
advocate of the T 0-hour system,' and of all other measures of reform,
which we have thought would tend to the alleviation of the present
wrongs of factory operatives."40
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 25
The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate often used class
rhetoric in its lobbying efforts for the 10-hour day. For example, a
September 1846 article stated:
Our cause is a just one .... The 10 hour system is already in success-
ful operation in some parts of New England, and the day is not far
distant when the corporations in New Hampshire will have to adopt
it. This enlightened age will not admit of so much servility as now
exits, and has existed for ages; and unless the tyrants speedily forsake
many of their wicked ways, they will be left alone in their wickedness;
and their shops of brick and stone will become desolate.41
The Factory Girl's Album continued to use working class rhetoric,
but also drew upon the image of the frail female to lobby for shortened
hours. For example, in an article titled "The Evils of the Factory System,"
the author criticized the factory owners' policy of 14- and 1 5-hour days:
"The movers of our factory system, are without doubt, an enterprising
class of men, and as such ought to be commended." Yet, the writer added,
"Shame on you ye devotees to gold, ye pretended lords of creation. Hang
your heads, and blush with shame and confusion, when you reflect upon
your wicked tyranny and oppression; and that oppression exercised upon
poor and helpless females."42
Although the pro-labor papers lobbied regularly for a shortened
work day, New England's factory operatives were far from being the
leaders in the 10-hour movement, however, and would not see their goal
achieved until the 1850s — after their publications had all ceased. Female
operatives faced great difficulty in convincing the public, particularly the
upper classes, that workers were both deserving of a 10-hour day and that
they would make good use of their free time.
A Voice of Industry article noted in 1846 that the middle and upper
classes believed that reducing hours of labor and providing more leisure
time would allow operatives to "give themselves over to all manner of
wickedness and degradation." The journal's staff disagreed firmly and
proclaimed factory workers to be virtuous and "free from vicious hab-
its."43 After 15 minutes were added to meal breaks in 1847, another
article made clear most workers used the time to better themselves: "And
what horrible things do you suppose they were doing? Most of them were
reading books or newspapers, others were chatting with their friends or
greeting new comers . . . ."44
26 Cronin • Spring 1999
The middle and upper classes firmly opposed shorter work hours,
however, and refused to support the petitions and calls for the shorter
workday, particularly when mill owners claimed that free time would
increase "crime, suffering, wickedness, and pauperism."45 The Voice of
Industry issued calls for operatives to unite and remain united to achieve
the resolution of their labor grievances:
Some say that 'capital will take good care of labor,' but don't believe
it; don't trust them. Is it not plain, that they are trying to deceive the
public, by telling them that your task is easy and pleasant, and that
there is no need of reform? Too many are destitute of feeling and
sympathy, and it is a great pity, that they were not obliged to toil one
year, and then they would be glad to see the '10-hour Petition'
brought before the legislature. This is plain, but true language.46
Despite factory women's lack of franchise, New England's textile
operatives used legislative petitions as their main tool to gain the 10-hour
day. The Voice of Industry's editors took the lead in publicizing petition
efforts.47 Petition drives in 1843, 1844, 1845 and 1846 sent thousands of
signatures to the Massachusetts legislature but failed to motivate the
politicians, particularly the 1846 drive, because a large number of the
signers were women.48 Operatives persevered, however.
The Voice of Industry editor, Sarah Bagley, who also was a leader of
the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association which sponsored the
petition drive in 1845, and six other women defied the then-social taboo
of public speaking and testified before a Massachusetts legislative commit-
tee investigating labor conditions.49 No legislative actions resulted, despite
Bagley s testimony on the effects of long workday hours on operatives'
health. The committee to whom Bagley spoke acknowledged that the
legislature could regulate hours of labor, but insisted that "It could not
deprive the citizen of [the right to make his own] contract. ",0 Operatives
were outraged. A Voice Of Industry article accused the legislature of being
unable "to break the chain of corporation influence, that now binds
them."51
Operatives in New Hampshire had somewhat greater success.
Similar petition drives were staged, led by Mehitabel Eastman, president
of the Manchester Female Labor Reform Association and co-editor of The
Voice Of Industry. New Hampshire's legislature passed the first 10-hour
law in New England in 1847. Despite being hailed by the operatives'
publications, textile workers quickly discovered the law had so many
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 27
loopholes that their hours of labor did not significantly decrease.52 An 11-
hour day eventually was adopted by most of New England's textile mills,
but not until the 1850s.53
The genteel publications' editors, by contrast, took a passive ap-
proach to the issue, claiming they had no power to bring about change
and told operatives they should rely instead on patriarchal beneficence to
change the system. A November 1842 editorial in The Lowell Offering
said, "With wages, board, etc., we have nothing to do — these depend on
circumstances over which we have no control."54 The New England
Offering's editor, Harriet Farley, echoed Whig support of factory owners
over operatives on the 10-hour day issue. "I have no doubt that in their
own good time, they will introduce the 10-hour system; and will not this
be a noble deed?" Farley said. The article added that it was not "inherent
corruptions of the factory system" that caused workers' ill health. Instead,
Farley blamed the workers themselves, claiming that directly or indirectly,
they neglected themselves.55
Rather than lobby for worker's rights, both the editors of The Lowell
Offering and The New England Offering instead devoted most of their
publications' space to essays, poems, stories, and serialized novels. Neither
magazine's policy was anything but literary. The Lowell Offerings sole
purpose, according to its editors, was to demonstrate to the upper classes
that factory operatives were educated, intelligent, literate, and refined.56
The periodical's editors could not afford to be critical, since a major
source of the journal's funding came from Lowell textile magnate Amos
Lawrence. As a result, The Lowell Offerings editors rarely lobbied for
changes in operatives' working or living conditions.
The journal's editors also chose to say little about labor conditions
because they were convinced that factory conditions were no worse than
those at any other job. The Lowell Offerings editors conceded that "there
are causes existing here unfavorable to constant and perfect health," then
cited the long workdays, the lack of ventilation, and the brief meal breaks
in cold rooms. However, the editorial stated that textile workers were no
less healthy than other workers throughout New England, "because those
physical laws which are violated in the mills, are almost equally violated
throughout New England."57 The Offering stressed that factory work was
actually better than other jobs available to women because operatives were
paid regularly.58
The few editorials which commented on working conditions that
appeared in the Offering did just that — comment — not criticize. For
example, the final editorial written by the Offerings editor, the Reverend
28 Cronin- Spring 1999
Charles Thomas, did call for changes, including shorter work hours,
better ventilation in boarding houses, and the creation of mill libraries.59
The article laid no blame, however, and was not accusatory.
Promotes the Image of "The True Woman"
Both publications promoted the rights of women to work, yet did so
genteelly. The magazines attempted to work largely within the confines of
the middle class image of the "true woman," and thus portrayed opera-
tives as pious, pure, submissive, domestic, and imbued with a sense of
duty to family.60 Women were regularly portrayed in both fiction and
essays as working primarily to support parents and other family members
back home. A Lowell Offering article said that "another great source of
pleasure" for operatives was to send money home to their parents.61
Similarly, an 1848 editorial in The New England Offering told the story of
a mill operative from Ireland whose starting pay was much less than the
more experienced operatives. Yet, in only a 10-month period she managed
to save $50 which she dutifully sent home to her parents.62
Neither journal supported labor agitation to improve conditions,
however. The Lowell Offerings editor, Harriet Farley, believed that factory
rules and hours were not too demanding: "Neither have I ever discovered
that any restraints were imposed upon us, but those which were necessary
for the peace and comfort of the whole, and for the promotion of the
designs for which we are collected, namely, to get money, as much of it
and as fast as we can."63 Similarly, The New England Offering told opera-
tives eight years later that they could leave the mill and become teachers
or undertake "less influential positions" if they sought to improve their
conditions.64
The pro-labor journals were angered at the passive nature of the
genteel publications. The Voice ofLndustrys editors were severely critical of
The Lowell Offering.
This unfortunate publication roves over the country, even
to other lands, bearing on its deceptive bosom a continual
repetition of notes, less valuable to the reader than to the
writer, but destructive to both; leaving behind the abuses
and downward progress of the operatives, the very part
which becomes their life, liberty, and greatness to give to
the world, even if they were compelled to write the record
with blood from their own veins.65
Spring 1999 •American Journalism 29
Creating a Permanent Female Working Class
For many operatives, labor reform publications provided a more
accurate view of factory conditions and workers' economic realities. The
labor journals viewed operatives as a distinct working class, whereas the
genteel journals' editors viewed such labor as temporary. The Lowell
Offerings editors frequently stated that factory work was a means to an
end (such as to earn money for an education) for most women, rather
than an end in and of itself.66
The distinction was important for many operatives, since changes in
agriculture, particularly the transition from subsistence to market-economy
farming, had increased the number of women and men during the 1840s
who considered themselves members of the permanent laboring class.
Although some women entered the factories to gain financial indepen-
dence, other women had little choice but to take permanent positions in
the mills. Conditions were different before the 1840s. Many female
operatives in that era worked only part of the year, or for just a few years
in the factories. Others returned home for a few months of the year to
help with harvests or berry picking.67
Female operatives also used their publications to react to the grow-
ing class distinctions, particularly the middle class attempts to dominate
socially, culturally, politically and economically. Mechanics and artisans
also criticized middle-class hegemony in their publications, using Jackso-
nian language to denounce "the aristocracy of wealth" and exclusive
privileges for the rich.68
The factory women of the 1830s and 1840s, only a few generations
removed from their revolutionary War ancestors, stated that they were
"proud daughters of freemen" who viewed themselves as equals to all
other members of society.69 Thus they were critical of members of the
middle class who had cast aside the Puritan work ethic (with which the
operatives were raised) and believed instead that proper women should
embrace idleness and the sanctity of the home.70
The editor of The Factory Girl's Album arid Mechanics Offering
promoted the dignity of labor and the nobility of the working class. A
slogan in the journal's masthead said: "Honor and Shame from no
condition rise — Act well your part — there all honor lies." Similarly, an
article in the first issue of The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advo-
cate denounced both class-based distinctions and the middle class' feelings
of superiority. "There is far too much of an aristocratic feeling existing
among our people," said Sarah, the article's author. She added that there is
30 Cronin • Spring 1999
"groundless prejudice" against factory girls, whom she commended as
industrious. She called class distinctions a grievous wrong. "That is the
difference in caste which the employers create between their sons and
daughters and the sons and daughters whom they employ to increase their
wealth. We are opposed to this distinction. It is wrong; it is unjust to give
the latter a supremacy in society over the former."71
Later articles in The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate
were more pointed, denouncing both class distinctions and the unequal
distribution of wealth among classes. A March 1846 article noted:
The laborer has occupied [a] too low and unworthy position in
society .... Those whose gains have generally been the least, have
been compelled to toil the hardest and longest, while others, who
live in ease and affluence, have upon labors, amassed their immense
wealth. Nature designs no such unjust, unequal distribution of her
blessings, and she has fearfully placed the seal of her disapprobation
thereon.72
Although they lacked the class rhetoric, editors of both The Lowell
Offering and The New England Offering also voiced support for the dignity
of labor and women's right to work. The Lowell Offering, for example,
defended women's fight to work in factories after Orestes A. Brownson,
editor of Boston Quarterly Review, claimed factory girls had been
"damn[ed] to infamy." The Offering framed its support of factory women
by drawing on operatives' Puritan heritage and describing operatives as
"girls who generally come from quiet country homes, where their minds
and manners have been formed under the eyes of the worthy sons of the
Pilgrims, and their virtuous partners . . . .73
The New England Offerings editor also claimed that labor was
dignified and did not make operatives any less feminine. Yet, the
Offerings editor pointed out that her support for labor was less out of a
sense of feminism and more for religious reasons. Work, said Harriet
Farley, was "one of our great preparations for another state of being ....
Work we all must, if we mean to bring out and perfect our natures."74
Workers Protest Production Speed-ups
As textile mills overproduced and the economy suffered downturns
in the 1840s, operatives also used their publications to denounce work
speed-ups, increases in the hours of labor, and pay cuts.75 Increases in the
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 3 1
work day were one of the biggest grievances. Between 1829 to 1841, 15
minutes were added to the working day. Operatives viewed the increase
not as an increase in the workday, but as a decrease in leisure time. More
importantly, as operatives had to tend more than one loom, the faster
pace changed working conditions by decreasing operatives' autonomy.
Articles in the publications noted that women had less time to converse,
and that factory mangers banned both the books operatives once brought
in to read during free moments and the potted flowers that once adorned
the factories' windows.76
Speed-ups continued throughout the 1840s. Operatives who once
tended two looms at a time were expected to tend four by the mid 1840s.
Articles responding to the changes in The Voice of Industry pointed out
that far from losing money, the Boston Associates were increasing rev-
enues at the expense of the operatives. The newspaper printed statistics on
women's wages, factory dividends, yards of cloth produced, number of
employees, and numbers of spindles in operation in 1844 and 1845.
A Voice of Industry article claimed corporate dividends in the Lowell
mills increased almost 200 percent between the two years, then stated,
"This is the natural result of the state of things in New England. — The
more wealth becomes concentrated in a few hands, the poorer the great
mass becomes."77 Mill records supported the newspaper's claim. Between
1840 and 1843, Lowell's mills had indeed suffered a downturn in profits,
recording between 2.3 to 7.9 percent decreases in profits. The factories
rebounded between 1844-46. Profits rose substantially, ranging from 17.1
and 19.1 percent, during those years.78
Not surprisingly, then, the two wage decreases which occurred
between 1841 and 1845 angered workers. An operative named Sarah who
wrote about operatives' wages in the first issue of The Factory Girl's Album
and Operatives' Advocate echoed the working class' concern that employers
were profiting at the expense of workers:
Her industry is to be commended — she toils from morning
until night at the loom, or on some portion of the work which
goes to make up the whole. But does she receive an adequate
pay for her services? Not so. Her pay is too little in comparison
to the profits derived from the work; and when it is taken into
consideration that oftentimes the health is destroyed by over
work, it must be acknowledged that the employer receives too
much, the operative too little.79
32 Cronin • Spring 1999
The journal's editors and writers regularly spoke out about wages,
often providing facts and figures for its readers. A June 1846 article stated,
for example: "Think of girls being obliged to labor 13 hours each working
day, for a net compensation of two cents per hour, which is above the
average net wages, being $1 .56 per week. Two cents per hour for severe
labor!"80
Even the normally silent Lowell Offering found its voice on the wage
issue. An October 1843 editorial noted, ". . . it is much easier to instill a
feeling of self-respect, of desire for excellence, among a well-paid, than an
ill-paid class of operatives. There is a feeling of independence, a desire to
form and retain a good character, a wish to do something for others."81
The staff of The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives Advocate went
further, lobbying for equal pay for women. "The labor of one person
ought to command the same price as the labor of another person, pro-
vided it be done as well and in the same time, whether the laborer be man
or woman."82
The publications also occasionally commented on differences
between factory and farm labor. For the first time in their lives, these
formerly rural women had their lives governed by the clock. Many chafed
at the system of factory bells which woke them, freed them for meal
breaks, and sent them home at night. Even the editors of The Lowell
Offering, who rarely commented on labor conditions, published an article
titled "The Spirit of Discontent" in 1841, by an operative who stated,
"Up before day, at the clang of the bell — and out of the mill by clang of
the bell — into the mill, and at work in obedience to that ding-dong of a
bell — just as though we were so many living machines."83
Similarly, The Factory Girl's Garland reprinted a resolution from
Peterboro, New Hampshire, workers who called for factory managers to
end the practice of requiring workers to arrive at their stations before
dawn and continue until after dusk: "Resolved, That although the evening
and morning is spoken of in Scripture ... no mention is made of an
evening in the morning. We therefore conclude that the practice of
lighting up in the morning and thereby making two evenings in every 24
hours is not only oppressive but unscriptural." An article in The Factory
Girl's Garland stated "We trust the girls . . . will rise up against this
outrageous custom."84 Behind the workers' concerns also was the reality
that oil lamps polluted the air, increasing both the temperature in the
mills and the fire risk.83
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 33
Textile Publications Rallied the Working Class
The journals disappeared in the early 1850s as the mill town went
into protracted declines spurred by overproduction, causing native New
Englanders to leave the mills in large numbers. Their Irish replacements
did not continue the publications or start their own.86
Although these publication only lasted for a decade, their impor-
tance to labor history, women's history, and communication should not be
trivialized. These periodicals were not only the nation's first factory
publications, but they were written and edited predominantly by women.
The journals provided vehicles for women's literary aspirations and also
allowed them to voice their discontent at industry conditions. Behind
their concerns was a growing awareness that class distinctions had
emerged permanently in society and furthermore, that the working classes
were governed for the first time by a system of wage labor based on supply
and demand.87
Like their counterparts, the artisans' and mechanics' press, the labor-
oriented operatives' publications tried to rally the working classes into a
unified whole on issues such as wages, hours of labor, and working
conditions. Editors also sought solidarity to unite workers against middle-
class hegemony. Both the genteel and the labor publications told readers
that the key to middle class acceptance was education for the working
class as a whole.
Although the pro-labor operatives' publications denounced the
emerging class distinctions as in opposition to the nation's perceived
egalitarian origins, many operatives viewed themselves as a separate,
distinct class. Female factory operatives responded to their changing
social, economic, and political environment with a mix of both rural and
urban philosophies. While welcoming the machine age and hoping to fit
into the emerging urban industrial society, the factory girls clung firmly to
their Puritan values and the Revolutionary War rhetoric of their fathers
and grandfathers. They blended their rural beliefs with the realities of
urban industrial life to argue that women who worked should be allowed
entry into middle class. Rather than viewing middle class entrance in
financial terms, these operatives judged individuals based on character
and ability. The pro-labor journal's image of the acceptable woman — one
who was employed, intelligent, physically fit, self-sufficient, and finan-
cially self-reliant — was largely in opposition to the middle-class vision of
true womanhood.
34 Cronin • Spring 1999
Hopefully more scholars will discover these early female voices. A
comprehensive study of all antebellum labor publications — produced by
both males and females — is necessary to properly assess the role these
early women's publications had in establishing and promoting 19th
century labor issues and rhetoric.
Endnotes
'E. R., "10 Hour System," The Voice of Industry, 15 May 1846, 4.
:C. K. McFarland and Robert L. Thistlethwaite, "20 Years of a Sucessful Labor Paper: The Working
Man's Advocate, 1829-48, "Journalism Quarterly, vol. 60 (1) (Spring 1983): 35.
'Hundreds of small mills existed in New England, however, the publications emerged inthe towns
where the Boston Manufacturing Company, and other corporations which mirrored the Boston
Associates' practices, established planned factory communities where women employees predomi-
nated. For more on the smaller factories, see: Jonathan Prude, "The Social System of Early New
England Textile Mills: A Case Study, 1812-40," in Herbert G. Gutman and Donald H. Bell, eds., The
New England Working Class and the New Labor History (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1987).
"•John R. Commons, et al., History of Labour inthe United States 4 vols. (New York: The MacMillan
Company, 1926), 1:181.
sThe Operatives' Magazine was jointly published in 1845 in both Lowell and Manchester, N. H.
Similarly, The Factory G»/was jointly published in New Market and Exeter, N.H. The Voice of
Industry began again breifly in June 1848 under the m\e,Neiv Era of Industry. Its exact publishing
histiry is uncertain. Lobor historian Philip Foner, in his work Women and the American Lobor
Movement, also makes reference to a factory girl publication call the Factory Girl's Voice. No record of
it could be found inany library or research institute despite extensive searching.
Unfortunately, little is known of the women who wrote for the magazines, with the exception of
those who wrote iorThe Lowell Offering. Offering writer Harriet Robinson's biography, Loom and
Spindle, discusses those women — approximately 70 — in some length, particularly those who went
onto literary careers after leaving the mills. The rest of the mill girl writers — even an actual count of
numbers — remain unknown. Fearful of losing their jobs, many wished to remain anonymous and
signed their articles only by their initials or first names.
f'Charles Dickens, American Notes And Pictures From Italy (New York: E. P. Dutton and Co., 1871),
vol.2, 67. Similarly, another prominent British visitor, the Reverend William Scoresby, vicar of
Bradford, Yorkshire, marvelled that female operatives would produce such a magazine, calling it "an
incident so curious and novel." See: William Scoresby, American Factories And Their Female
Operatives; With An Appeal On Behalf Of The British Factory Population, And Suggestions For The
Improvement Of Their Condiiton, (London; Longman, Broan, Green, Longmans, 1845; reprint, New
York; Burt Franklin, 1968), 69 (page reference is to reprint edition).
7Only a few historians have examined the other factory publications. See: Bertha Monica Stearns,
"New England Magazines for Ladies," New England Quarterly, 3 (October 1930): 627-659. Philip S.
Foner, ed., The Factory Girls (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1977).
"McFarland and Thistlethwaite, "The Working Man's Advocate:" 39-40; C.K. McFarland and
Robert L. Thistlethwaite, "Labor Press Demands Equal Education In the Age of Jackson, "Journalism
Quarterly, vol. 65 (3) (Fall 1988): 600-608.
''Barbara M.Tucker, Samuel Slater and the Origins of the American Textile Industry, 1790-1860
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1984).
"Thomas Bender, Toward An Urban Vision: Ideas and Institutions in 1 9th Century America
(Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1975), 32. Twenty two mills existed in Lowell by 1835.
That number increased to 502 by 1855. Approximately 8,800 women and 4,400 men helped produce
2.25 million yards of cloth each week in Lowell, alone. See: Walter Licht, Industrializing America
(Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1987).
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 35
"For a history of the Boston Associates, see: Robert F. Dalzell, Jr. Enterprising Elite: The Boston
Associates and the World They Made (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987).
15 Bender, Toward An Urban Vision, 35.
l3Licht, Industrializing America, 58. For a contemporary account of operatives' desire to earn
money, see: "Factory Girls," The Lowell Offering, December 1840, 17.
l4Dalzell, Enterprising Elite, 26-74.
I5A number of the journals addressed boarding house issues. For one of the lengthier articles, see:
"Factory Boatding Houses," The Voice Of Industry, 25 Septembet 1845, 2.
"Ticht, Industrializing America, 58.
l7Philip S. Foner, Women and the American Labor Movement (New York: International Publishers,
1979), 35.
l8Licht, Industrializing America, 58
19 Philip S. Foner, History Of The Labor Movement in the United States, vol. 1 (New York:
International Publishers, 1975), 196.
2"No Headline, The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives Advocate, 14 February 1846, 2.
2 '"Editorial," The Lowell Offering, vol. Ill (1843), 282.
22No headline, The Olive Leaf And Factory Girl's Repository, 25 April 1843, 14.
23 "Our Financial Affairs," The Voice Of Industry, 20 November 1846, 2.
24Edith Abbott, Women In Industry: A Study in American Economic History (New York: D.
Appleton, 1910), 112-113.
25Licht, Industrializing America, 47.
2f,McFarland and Thistlethwaite, "20 Years of a Sucessful Labor Paper," 37.
27David R. Roediger and Philip S. Foner, Our Own Time: A History of American Labor and the
Working Day (New York: Verso, 1989), 7.
2sRoediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 44.
2vRoediger and Foner, Our Own Time, vii.
3"A commonly-held belief at the time — the ideal of "true womanhood" — held that women were
more tender and delicate than men. See: Frances B. Cogan, Ail-American Girl: The Ideal of Real
Womanhood in Mid-I9th Century America (Athens, GA: The University of Georgia Press, 1989), 3.
31 "Lowell Factories," The Voice Of Industry, 26 December 1845, 2. See also: "Evils of The Factory
System," The Factory Girl's Album and Mechanic's Offering, 2.
32 "Hours Of Labor In England And The United States," The Voice Of Industry, 19 February 1847, 4.
,3 "-pQ-p^g pe0ple Of the United States," The Voice Of Industry, 19 February 1847, 4.
34McFarland and Thistlewaite, "Labor Press Demands Equal Education," 601.
35H.J. Stone, "Our Real Necessities," The Voice Of Industry, 18 September 1845, 3.
36 "Lowell Girls — Standing At The Gate," The Voice Of Industry, 7 May 1847, 2.
37 Elfrieda B. McCauley, "The New England Mill Girls: Feminine Influence In The Development
Of Public Libraries In New England, 1820-1860" (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1971), 282.
38Abbott, Women In Industry, 117.
39 "The 10-hour System," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 28 Febraury 1846, 3.
411 "Another Change," The Factory Girl's A/bum and Mechanics' Offering, 5 December 1846.
41 "10-hour System Again," The Factory Girl's Album and Mechanics' Offering, 19 Septembet 1846, 2.
42 "Evils OfThe Factory System," The Factory Girl's Album and Mechanic's Offering, 17 October
1846, 2. Compare this rhetoric to that of the genteel publications. See, for example, "Duties and
Rights of Mill Girls," The New England Offering, May 1848, 48.
43No headline, The Voice Of Industry, 13 November 1846, 3.
44 "How Will The Operatives Employ Their Time?" The Voice Of Industry, 18 June 1847, 3.
45 Licht, Industrializing America, 74; Foner, Women and the American Labor Movement, 75.
46No headline, The Voice Of Industry, 24 April 1846, 3.
47"10 hours, 10 Hours!!" The Voice Of Industry, 26 December 1845, 3.
36 Cronin • Spring 1 999
48 Roediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 55.
■•"Walter Licht notes the 1845 petition had more than 5,000 signatures. See: Industrializing America, 60.
''"Foner, Women and the American Labor Movement, 78.
s'"10-hour System," 4.
52 "All Hail New Hampshire," The Voice of Industry, 9 July 1847, 2.
"Roediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 78.
54 "Editorial," The Lowell Offering, November 1842, 48.
55 "Duties and Rights of Mill Girls," 3.
56 "Editorial: The Aim of the Offering," The Lowell Offering, vol. V (1845), 22-23. Also see:
"Editorial," The Lowell Offering, August 1843,284.
57 "Editorial," The Lowell Offering, May 1845, 191.
58 "Editorial," The Lowell Offering, September 1844, 262.
s'' "Editor's Valedictory," The Lowell Offering, December 1842, 380.
""Barbara Welter, "The Cult of True Womanhood: 1820-1860," American Quarterly, vol. 18
(Summer 1966): 151-174; Nancy F. Cott, The Bonds of Womanhood: 'Woman's Sphere in New England,
1780-1835 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977).
61 "Editorial Corner: Plants and Flowers In the Mills," The Lowell Offering, October 1840, 32.
f'2 "Editor's Table," The New England Offering, June 1848, 71 .
63 "Factory Girls," The Loiuell Offering, December 1840, 17.
" "Editor s Table," The New England Offering, July 1848, 95.
'''Quoted in Helen L. Summer, History of Women in Industry in the United States (New York: Arno
Press, 1974), 90.
M>The Voice of Industry regularly referred to operatives as a working class. See, for example, "The
Editor of the Voice, and Ourself," 15 May 1846, 2. Compare this to "Editorial," The Lowell. Offering,
September 1844, 262.
'"Foner, History of the Labor Movement, 193.
''"McFarland and Thistlewaite, "20 Years of a Sucessful labor Paper," 36-37.
<w "To Our Friends And Readers," The Voice Of Industry, 7 November 1845, 2.
7"Welter, "The Cult of True Womanhood," 151-153.
7lSarah, "Aristocracy," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 14 February 1846, 2.
72N. L., "The 10-Hour System," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 28 March 1846, 2.
3 "Factory Girls," The Lowell Offering, December 1840, 17.
74 "Duties and Rights of Mill Girls," 102-103.
75 "High Wages," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 6 June 1846, 2; "Ventilation,"
The Voice of Industry, 27 August 1847, 4.
7,,Roediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 5 1 .
77 "The Factory System," The Voice Of Industry, 19 June 1845, 4.
"TJalzell, Enterprising Elite, 52.
7''Sarah, "Aristocracy," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives 'Advocate, 14 Febraury 1846, 2.
" "The Operatives' Life," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 20 June 1846, 2.
81 "Editorial," The Lowell Offering, October 1843, 48.
S2 "Female Labor," The Factory Girl's Album and Operatives' Advocate, 25 April 1846, 2.
"AJmira, "The Spirit of Discontent," The Lowell Offering, vol. 1 (1841), 114.
''''Roediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 5 1 .
8SRoediger and Foner, Our Own Time, 5 1 .
86H. M. Gitelman, "The Waltham System And The Coming Of The Irish," Labor History, vol. 8 (3)
(Fall 1967): 227-253.
s7Bender, Toward An Urban Vision, 64.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 37
Spring 1999
38
Dissent and Control in a Woman
Suffrage Periodical: 30 Years of the
Wisconsin Citizen
By Elizabeth V. Burt
This article finds that, contrary to the expectation that reform publica-
tions provide a place in the "marketplace of ideas" for reformers excluded from
the mainstream press, the Wisconsin Citizen often suppressed debate among
its constituents in the interest of maintaining an appearance of unity within
the movement and the dominance of movement leaders.
Ignored, excluded and ridiculed by the mainstream press, reform
organizations and social movements often establish their own
publications in the attempt to reach the public with their
message.1 Scholars analyzing these publications have found they typically
seek to inform the general public of the goals and developments within a
reform or social movement and also serve as vital channels of information
for members of the movement who are often geographically separated. In
this role, reform and social movement publications act as community
bulletin boards for their constituencies. They announce upcoming
activities, call for action and activism, report progress or setbacks, and
record structural changes within the social movement organization.2 As
historian Lauren Kessler notes in regard to feminist periodicals, they serve
as "organizational tools, morale boosters, consciousness-raisers, philo-
sophical and political forums, and propaganda organs. "3 One of their
Elizabeth V. Burt is an Associate Professor in the School of Communication at the University
of Hartford.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 39
major functions, according to historian Jean Folkerts, is to form "the core
of a communications network" that helps members of the movement
develop a sense of community.4
As noted by social movement scholars, various constituencies within
a social movement often differ as to basic ideologies as well as tactics and
strategies for achieving the movement's goals. Unless resolved, these
differences can splinter the movement into separate factions, which can
lead to duplication of effort at best and disempowerment and
delegitimization at the worst.5 These divisions can sometimes be dis-
cerned in the various publications issued by different groups or factions
within a social movement. The split within the anti-slavery movement
over Constitutional or extra-Constitutional reform, for example, can be
found in the opposing positions taken by William Lloyd Garrison and
Frederick Douglass in the pages of their respective publications, the
Liberator and the North Star.6 In the case of the suffrage movement, the
more than two dozen suffrage periodicals published over the years by a
variety of state and national organizations presented varying and some-
times conflicting concepts of womanhood and woman's role as a citizen.7
Another important role of social movement publications, therefore,
is often that of mediator among factions. They may attempt to resolve
discord by publishing the actual debate between conflicting constituen-
cies, thus airing the debate and publicly seeking participation and even-
tual resolution. This could be facilitated by the sheer number or variety of
publications within a social movement, each adding its voice to the
debate. It also could be facilitated by individual publications willing to air
diverse views. The Genius of Liberty, the feminist journal published by
Elizabeth A. Aldrich from 1851 to 1853, for example, welcomed diverse
positions, including those opposing Aldrich's. This policy was announced
to readers, in fact, in Aldrich's promise: "[Genius of Liberty] is not one's
but belongs to ALL; every one will be heard in her own style, principle
and want..."8
Dissenting Views May Be Suppressed
Not all social movement publications are so magnanimous, however.
Because they are often dominated by one or more leaders of the move-
ment, in fact, their views often reflect those of these leaders.9 Especially in
cases where the prevailing views of the movement's leaders are being
challenged within the movement, those dissenting views may be sup-
pressed. In these cases, those aware of the conflict may find evidence of
40 Burt 'Spring 1999
dissent in its exclusion from rather than its inclusion in the social move-
ment publication. As textual scholars point out, what is missing in the
record is sometimes as important as what is included.™
This article examines the Wisconsin Citizen, which from 1887 to
1917 served as the official organ of the Wisconsin Woman Suffrage
Association and for much of that time succeeded in managing the various
conflicts within the movement. First the article provides a brief review of
the long campaign for woman suffrage in Wisconsin and the founding of
the Wisconsin Citizen. Next, the article examines how the editors of the
publication attempted to control the various controversies within the
movement and then how those controversies were reflected (or not) in its
pages. In conclusion, the author discusses the role of dissent within a
social movement and considers whether the free expression of such dissent
serves as a positive or negative factor in the health of the movement.
Women Organize in Wisconsin
Woman suffrage was first considered and rejected in Wisconsin at
the territory's first and second constitutional conventions in 1846 and
1848." It was not until 1867 that suffragists began to organize, and in
the next year women suffragists created the Wisconsin Woman Suffrage
Association (WWSA) with physician Laura Ross as its first president. Like
suffrage associations formed in other states and territories, the association
had a sporadic existence during its early years. Chapters in a dozen
communities scattered across the sparsely settled state met irregularly,
rallying briefly to descend on the state capitol to lobby for suffrage
legislation. They had no official organ during these years, relying instead
on the pro-suffrage Wisconsin Chief, a temperance sheet published in Fort
Atkinson from 1856 to 1889 by Emma Brown, and the Boston-based
Woman's Journal, established by the American Woman Suffrage Associa-
tion in 1870.12
The WWSA was energized in 1884 when the Reverend Olympia
Brown assumed the presidency.13 A veteran organizer, the 49-year-old
Brown immediately launched a campaign for a woman suffrage amend-
ment to the state constitution. A suffrage bill was eventually passed by
both the state legislature and the required popular referendum, but when
women attempted to vote in the elections of 1 887, they were told they
could only vote in elections on school issues. .'4
Brown brought the case to court, and between hearings toured the
state to gather popular support. It was during this period, in 1887, that
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 41
she established the Wisconsin Citizen to counter "newspaper sensational-
ism and idle or malicious gossip" being provided by the general circula-
tion press. Despite her attempts, the case was lost.15
Brown remained the president of the WWSA until 1913 and saw to
it that the Wisconsin Citizen continued publication. Under her leadership,
the WWSA proposed suffrage legislation in the state capital during nearly
every session, but it was not until 1911 that a bill for full suffrage was
passed in both houses. The bill, however, also needed to pass a popular
referendum, to be held November 1912. During the ensuing 19-month
campaign, a group of younger suffragists challenged Brown's leadership of
the Wisconsin movement. They established a second suffrage organiza-
tion, the Political Equality League, frequently referred to as the PEL.16
Despite a vigorous and highly publicized campaign, the 1912
referendum was defeated. Recognizing the need for unity, the WWSA and
PEL resolved their differences, reunited under a reorganized WWSA, and
replaced their leadership. The 78-year-old Brown grudgingly yielded the
presidency; her place was eventually taken by journalist Theodora Winton
Youmans, the former press organizer for the PEL. In 1914 Youmans
became editor of the Wisconsin Citizen.17
Under Youmans' leadership and national directives from the Na-
tional American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA), the WWSA
gradually shifted its focus toward campaigning for a national rather than a
state suffrage amendment.18 Despite this concentration of effort else-
where, the WWSA routinely introduced suffrage bills to the Wisconsin
legislature and in 1919 a bill for presidential suffrage was approved by
both the legislature and the governor. In the same year, before that state
law could take effect, the federal suffrage amendment was passed by
Congress, and Wisconsin was the first state to ratify. Thus, in 1920,
Wisconsin women were able to vote for the first time in all elections.19
Wisconsin Citizen Provides a Voice
Like many reform and social movement publications, the
Wisconsin Citizen was established to provide a voice for the ideas of a
minority social or political reform at a time when those ideas were often
silenced or ridiculed in the general circulation press.20 "Modest in appear-
ance but brave in its [intentions]," an article proclaimed in the first issue,
"this little sheet comes before the public for the purpose of setting forth
some of the work, industrial and reformatory, in which the unrecognized
citizens of this State are engaged."21
42 Burt "Spring 1999
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::v"Z"2';rZ'',Ji
The front page of The Wisconsin Citizen as it appeared in May 1889.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism
43
From that moment in 1 887 until its last issue was published in
1917, the Wisconsin Citizen served as the official voice of the Wisconsin
woman suffrage movement. The paper was between four and eight pages
in length, was available for a subscription price of 25 cents a year, and was
published first as a monthly, occasionally as a bimonthly, and finally as a
quarterly.22 Its circulation varied over the years, sinking to as low as 70 in
1902 to perhaps as high as 250 in 1914.23 For its first 26 years the Citizen
was published under a series of editors chosen by Olympia Brown and,
indeed, was often referred to as "Mrs. Brown's paper." In its last four years
it was published under the editorship of WWSA president Theodora
Winton Youmans.24 An accomplished journalist, Youmans was an
assistant editor of her husband's weekly newspaper, the Waukesha Freeman,
where she also wrote a weekly suffrage column. Publication of the Citizen
was discontinued in January 1917, at which time it was replaced with a
typed bulletin mailed to more than 100 newspapers throughout the state
until 1920.25
The Wisconsin Citizen kept suffragists up to date on the latest
suffrage developments in Wisconsin as well as in other states, reported
news concerning state and national suffragists, and commented on press
coverage of the movement. It chronicled the advance of woman suffrage,
praised its champions, and lashed out against its opponents. It heralded
the advances and successes of women, argued for more access to education
and the professions, and in general supported the broad platform of
women's rights. It attempted, in its own words, to serve as a "text book for
the instruction of women in the methods and principles of... govern-
ment."26
For most of its years of publication, the Citizen focused on suffrage
in Wisconsin, but it occasionally addressed other issues affecting women
such as labor and divorce laws, white slavery, and child labor. Debates on
specific topics ran from issue to issue, frequently using members' letters
and references to articles that had appeared in the general press. Poems
and the verses of suffrage songs were printed and even an occasional
cartoon appeared.27
Like other reform publications, the Wisconsin Citizen did not always
present a seamless account of a well-organized and unified movement; it
also served as a window to some of the controversies that raged within the
suffrage movement. The window, however, was opaque. Although the
Citizen allowed some of the debate over these controversies to appear on
its pages, more often than not this debate was suppressed to create an
appearance of unity. Only a close examination of the publication reveals
44 Burt 'Spring 1999
evidence of these controversies, often revealed by innuendo or omission.
Examination of organizational correspondence and contemporary ac-
counts, on the other hand, reveal that three major areas of contention
existed over the years. These were the nature of campaign strategies and
tactics, leadership of the organization, and support of a national rather
than state suffrage amendment.28
Dissent over Campaign Strategies and Leadership
Debate over campaign strategies often led to conflict within the
Wisconsin woman suffrage movement, and this debate was closely linked
to the nature of the movement's leadership. When Brown became presi-
dent in 1884, she pumped new energy into the organization. Trained as a
minister, Brown was not only a superb speaker, but also was an activist
who was not afraid to get out among the general population to promote
her ideas.29 After the disappointing court decision in 1889, however,
Brown failed to maintain this energy. In the years between 1889 and
1902, county chapters died off, meetings were held rarely, and annual
conventions were attended only by a loyal cadre. In some years, in fact,
the Wisconsin Citizen was the only evidence of a surviving suffrage
sentiment among Wisconsin women.30
In these years, Brown contented herself with periodic appearances
before state legislators, trips to Washington, and regular columns in the
Citizen. In late 1910, however, her routine was shattered when a group of
younger women within the WWSA challenged her low-key campaign
tactics which, they charged, had brought "meager results."31 In an effort
to pacify this group, Brown reluctantly accepted an offer by Mary Swain
Wagner, an ambitious suffragist from New York, to hold meetings
throughout the state and to organize a lecture bureau at her own expense.
Little of Brown's reluctance was initially reflected in the Citizen. In its
October 1910 report of the organization's annual meeting, the publication
simply recorded that Wagner's proposal had been "favorably discussed,"
that the board had authorized it, and that Brown was "pleased" with the
plan for additional suffrage meetings.32
Wagner Plots to Oust Brown
Within just a few months, however, Wagner was plotting with
younger members of the WWSA to oust Brown from the presidency.33
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 45
She challenged Brown openly in suffrage meetings and made the contro-
versy even more public by giving interviews to the press in which she
called Brown and her contemporaries within the WWSA "doddering
females."34 At first the Citizen addressed the challenge indirectly. In the
March 1 1 issue, in a signed column entitled "An Explanation," Brown
defended her campaign tactics without being too specific or mentioning
Wagner:
The writer understands that the Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage
Association has been criticized on the ground that so few
of its officers have been in Madison this season interviewing
legislators. Now it is most desirable that we show the legislators
that we desire the ballot and that we are watching the attitude
of every member on this subject and that we give them all
information possible. But we can overdo this sort of work. It
is not agreeable to men, nor does it conduce to the advance-
ment of our cause to be always nagging and buttonholing
members in regard to it.... We have never neglected our
legislature but have always sent literature. The chairman of
our legislative committee... has had opportunities of speaking
to members in a quiet and unobtrusive way... The president
of the society has been in constant communication with...
members of the legislature.... On the whole the legislature
has had plenty of attention and the criticism of our officers
is very unjust.35
In a brief article in the same issue, the Citizen reported somewhat
hopefully that Wagner had completed her work in Wisconsin and would
"probably go to some other state."36 Wagner did not leave Wisconsin,
however, and unable to either remove her from the state campaign or
silence her challenges, Brown complained bitterly to suffrage workers in
personal correspondence.37 In April she reported Wagner's demands in the
Citizen. "[Wagner] wrote several letters demanding that the President of
the association should at once send her resignation to her (not a member
of the association, and a recent comer to the state) as she intended to
reorganize the association or to organize an opposition to it," Brown told
Citizen readers. "She accompanied her demand by threats and denuncia-
tions which applied to nearly all the officers of the association."38
46 Burr 'Spring 1999
Dissenters Form a Second Organization
Brown succeeded in maintaining the loyalty of the majority of the
members and retained the presidency. She failed, however, to quell the
rebellion. In April 1911 the dissenters formed a second suffrage organiza-
tion, the Political Equality League, with former WWSA vice-president-at-
large Ada James at its head.39 The Citizen acknowledged the split only
obliquely. In June 1911, for example, in a long article rallying support and
contributions for the WWSA, Brown reported that there were in the state
"a number of societies," "clubs," or "leagues" endorsing and even working
for woman suffrage. These put some other subject with or even before
suffrage, she warned, and only the WWSA had for many years alone stood
for woman suffrage. "The ballot first, other things afterwards," she wrote.
"We do not aspire to political equality.' We only ask for the ballot. Then
political equality will come."40 On the few occasions that the Citizen
referred to the Political Equality League, it identified the organization as an
opponent rather than an ally in the suffrage cause.41
The Citizen refused to acknowledge the Political Equality League for
the duration of the campaign. Although the organization's campaign
activities were highly visible and attracted public attention, they received
no notice in the paper. Thus excluded from the Citizen, the PEL began to
publish its own newsletter, the Press Bulletin, edited by Waukesha journalist
and suffragist Theodora Winton Youmans. The Bulletin went out to some
500 state and regional newspapers and succeeded in getting stories in the
state general circulation press and the national suffrage press.42
Throughout the 19-month campaign for the 1912 referendum,
campaign strategies remained a major point of contention between the two
suffrage organizations. Brown continued to insist on waging a low-profile
campaign that would not arouse opposition, and waited until shortly
before the November referendum before launching a more visible and
active campaign.43 The PEL, instead, organized motor tours, street rallies,
and highly publicized debates — all activities that received coverage in the
Press Bulletin and the general circulation press, but scant mention in the
Citizen.44
Brown stubbornly held on to the WWSA presidency throughout the
campaign, always attributing her position to the will of the membership.
After the defeat of the 1912 referendum, however, old allies urged her to
step aside so that the WWSA could reorganize under new leaders un-
tainted by the recent rivalry. Brown reluctantly resigned her position as
president.45 Although it is clear from her private correspondence that she
yielded unwillingly to pressure, the report that appeared in the Citizen
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 47
made it sound as if Brown had resigned voluntarily and for the noblest
reasons:
Rev. Olympia Brown declined election to the office of state
President, which she has held for more than 20 years. It was
not because she is old... Certainly it was not because of
feebleness... But in absolutely refusing to be re-elected she was
joined by all the old officers... to leave the way open for future
coalition between the old state society and the political equality
league which was formed at the opening of the recent campaign.46
WWSA and PEL Reach a Compromise
With Brown's resignation, the WWSA and the PEL were able to
reach a compromise and agreed upon a revised constitution. After two
false starts, the membership elected Youmans president. A journalist by
profession, Youmans believed the Citizen should play a key role in the
reorganization by easing the transition, healing the breach, and informing
the membership of the changes. She began to publish a monthly
"President's Letter," first signing these columns with her full name,
"Theodora Winton Youmans," later simply with her initials, "T.W.Y"
With these letters, she was able to subtly but constantly remind the
membership of the change in the WWSA and her own role as president
while at the same time analyzing the latest developments affecting the
movement.47
But while Brown might have stepped down from the presidency, she
still exerted indirect control over the Citizen through its editor Lena
Newman, a loyal member of the old guard who had held the position
since 1899. It soon became clear that with Newman as editor, Youmans'
impact could be restrained through editorial decisions; although Youmans
might express her ideas through her "President's Letter," she had no
control over where the column would be placed in relation to other
material, or what else might appear in the same edition. Brown continued
to write signed columns for each issue and these often appeared on the
front page, while Youmans' articles, even her "President's Letter," often
appeared on the second or third.
Youmans Takes Control
Youmans succeeded in removing the last traces of Brown's control of
the WWSA and the Citizen when Newman's contract with the WWSA
48 Burr -Spring 1999
came up for renewal in late 1913. Pleading economic necessity and the
need to make the Citizen more efficient, Youmans suggested its place of
publication be moved from Brodhead, where Newman lived, to
Waukesha, where it could be printed at the Waukesha Freeman. Since
Youmans already worked at the Freeman as assistant editor, it would make
perfect sense for her to become the Citizens editor. This was proposed as
both a practical and financial improvement of the papers production. At
the same time, Youmans also proposed that the Citizens format and
purpose be changed. The paper could either be reduced to an official
bulletin for board members and county organization officials only, or it
could be altered to serve as a source of news for the general press, much as
the PEL's Press Bulletin had done during the 1911-1912 campaign.48
Brown did not willingly relinquish her control of the Citizen and,
backed by her remaining supporters, vehemently opposed the changes.
Despite her opposition, the board agreed to move the publication to
Waukesha and appoint Youmans editor. It did not, however, approve the
changes in format.49 In the next issue of the Citizen, Youmans smoothly
explained the change as part of the board's "general policy of concentrat-
ing the administrative work of the state association" and the desire to
bring the various offices of the association "under one roof." She ex-
plained what was to become Newman's effective removal from the power
structure as a voluntary step:
Old friends of the Wisconsin Citizen will be pleased to learn
that Miss Lena V. Newman, so long its faithful and efficient
editor, has recently inherited land in North Dakota and expects
to spend part of her time in that state. She retires from the
editorship of this paper with a record of good work done and
with the warm personal esteem of all Wisconsin suffragists.50
The uneasy transition from the old guard to the new was thus
complete. Although Brown continued to publish occasional columns in
the Citizen as honorary president, it was clear that her days of influence in
the WWSA were over and her presence in the Citizen gradually faded.51
As for the Citizen, it survived under Youmans until 1917 when, citing
financial and organizational hardship, she reduced it to a single-page
newsletter to be sent to the general circulation press.
National Versus State Suffrage
The debate over whether suffrage could best be attained through a
state or federal amendment was another area of controversy that often
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 49
The Wisconsin Citizen.
VOL. XXVIII
WAUKESHA, WISCONSIN, SEPTEMBER. 1915.
GOING TO NEW YORK.
I have a great piece of news foi
CliiiAn readers nils month— ni Joast
li serms great -to- mo. iSoih Mrs.
llalKht sua it^seK arc ,jing 10 Now
York lo worn ... i in- woman sutTrngc
campaign 'or n mon I It, I go tir llocli
ester, .leaving on September '-"..
and Mrs. Hindu goes to lint-
fnlo a week later. Mrs. Ha I ell I boos
under contract wiih.iho Empire Slato
Campaign iommitt'ec anil I wis rep-
resentative of the. Wisconsin Woman's
: Snffrase association. ,\t the meeting
ol the Executive hoard i'i Ihis pity
, .recently a rcso'lution was passed aulh-
-orlzing nje 10 no and nppropriailnK the
necessary fitnils for expenses, Tins
action whs taken on ihe uudoisland-
ing Hint in woman suffrage work, the
yt el tare of one is the welfare of all.
It is tremendously important lor Wis-
consin'that New York shall uNi, and,
I our Executive hoard helieves thai in
sending a worker lo that stare !t is
Indirectly, but possibly most eJToct-
Ively. fighting its own hatlles. as well
as adding Its. mile of assistance in .the
tremendous campaign the N'ew York
The Empi
•Sta
Campaign
mitiee represents the Nev
an Suffrage association.
Suffrage party, the Coll.'
Hie Equal Franchise sacii
League tor Woman Su
work Is divided into FA
puhlicity. oreaniz'alien,
and lilerale. . , The slat
'into rnmpa'gn districts.
•gor
I have n letter from Mrs. Clements
chairman of the Seventh Cmigre-sim
at district, in which Rochester is Ij
rated. ; Some idea of the oomprehcii
Blve scoiie of the work may' he in
ferred from Jlrs. Clements' leticr:
"U'e have arranged for a big Vote;
For Women week, beginning Sep-
tember 20. We start in Monday with tiioni have lo havi> helpers
an all-day speech .from 10 a., m. to 10 lections and ilislrilnilioi! o!'
p. m„ with the following speakers: .and enrollments. In addifiu
Josephine Shayiie, Helen Todd, Jane "1° Sozodont campaign starts
Thompson. Alice Pierson. Mary New- »>"> 'en ilccorcilod More wii
comb, and Mr. Perkins of Michigan.- Mai" street and two booths in iv.ii ' tfini andlfllf eo
Following that enrh -day there will Ye MR depannioni stores, p'.ieu i:i which iniiiing In. hut
st\ factory meetings and six open-air must have a capable woman in oh.-ngej lire greajer! nei
meetings each night in different sec- "Me l0 l:l"' suffrage and .
lions of the city. Alt cf these meet- tiortrs
ings have to be advertised from house A great parade is nr^an
IIEMtY M YOIWIAX*
l«l«
nh for
lioth
just
to house 1n the neighborhood. All o! York, city (Jclolu
ell work
Halgh ■ and myself lo
is- jisnk with the state conven-
ildjthe congressional conferences
oilier yleids lo
s Harriet Ilain.
Icnoshal has kindly consented to take
barge of jbeado,uar(ers work during
or ahseme. She may he consulted as
u detail); «jf the convention, the con-
This September 1915 edition of The Wisconsin Citizen featured an article written by Mrs.
Henry M. Youmans as well as a photograph of her.
50
Burt 'Spring 1999
threatened the unity of the Wisconsin movement. The first generation of
feminists of the 1850s and 1860s had hoped to bring about woman
suffrage on a national level and lobbied to include the concept of univer-
sal suffrage in the 14th Amendment. When that plan was defeated in
1868 and subsequent campaigns for a federal suffrage amendment were
defeated, suffragists began to focus their energies on winning the right to
vote state by state. Thus, while the federal amendment languished in
Washington, state organizations lobbied for suffrage at the local level. In
the meantime, the national suffrage associations, which united as the
National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA) in 1890, kept
a continued presence in the national capital. Whenever congressional
action seemed imminent, the NAWSA would call on the state organiza-
tions for campaign workers.52
Like most other state suffrage associations, the WWSA divided its
energies between campaigning for legislation in Wisconsin, supporting
similar campaigns in other states, and sending delegates to Washington to
lobby for a federal amendment. This diffusion of energy had both positive
and negative effects on the Wisconsin movement. On the positive side,
the WWSA had much to gain from the resources of the national move-
ment and stronger state organizations. It was a series of lectures by Susan
B. Anthony in 1 867, for example, that sparked the surge of interest that
led to the organization of the WWSA two years later. And in later years,
the Wisconsin movement gained considerable support from other state
suffrage organizations that contributed both funds and the services of
suffrage workers such as Catherine McCulloch, Harriet Grim, Emma
Smith DeVoe, and May Wright Sewall.53
On the negative side, participation in other state campaigns as well
as the national campaign drained energy from the Wisconsin movement.
After the 1890 defeat of the 1886 Wisconsin suffrage bill in the courts,
for example, Brown was frequently absent from the state to devote her
energy to lobbying for the federal suffrage amendment in Washington,
D.C.. During these periods, as the membership in the WWSA gradually
shrank, she administered the WWSA in absentia, delegating her daughter,
Gwendolen B. Willis, to carry out some of her duties, including the
production of the Citizen.^ Similarly after NAWSA, in 1915, decided to
devote all its energy to winning suffrage in key campaign states such as
New York, Ohio, and Illinois, and to cut back in what it regarded as
hopeless states such as Wisconsin, Youmans and other WWSA officials
were frequently absent from the state for increasing periods.55
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 5 1
Disputes Often Not Reported
The decision to devote their energies elsewhere was not lightly
reached and caused disputes among members that sometimes came to a
head during the WWSA's annual conventions, when they were dutifully
reported in the minutes of the convention published in the Wisconsin
Citizen.56 These disputes, however, more often were not reported in the
paper. The diffusion of energy to outside campaigns, instead, can be
discovered in the number of articles about campaigns being waged
elsewhere as well as topics not even remotely connected to the state
movement. Between 1901 and 1910, for example, when interest in the
WWSA was at its lowest, only one or two columns per issue were devoted
to local developments. The remainder of the paper typically carried
articles and short items reprinted from other newspapers or suffrage
publications.57
During the period of the 1910-1913 Wisconsin campaigns, the
Citizen focused once again on local affairs. In these years the publication's
pages were filled with news of the campaign for the suffrage bill and its
victory in 1911, the campaign for the referendum and its defeat in 1912,
and the proposal of a second bill in 191 3. 58 But with the fate of this
second bill still being debated in the legislature, the Citizen shifted its
attention to the national front, where congress had just passed a joint
resolution calling for the submission of a federal suffrage amendment.59
In April 1913, with the Wisconsin bill awaiting the governor's approval
(which was denied), the newly elected Youmans signaled this shift in her
President's Letter:
If the unexpected should happen and the measure [for the
1913 suffrage bill] should fail, we should still of course,
continue our work, though in a somewhat different way. It
is not always in so-called campaign states — that is those in
which an election is pending — that the best campaign work
is done. Witness the splendid efforts of the Chicago women,
continued year after year, though the Illinois legislature has
never passed a woman suffrage measure .... In any event,
Wisconsin women must prepare for continued and vigorous
activity in the suffrage cause ... in whatever direction it may
be exerted . . . .60
That "direction" was increasingly away from Wisconsin and toward
other states. In the fall of 1915, for example, Youmans went for a month
52 Burt -Spring 1999
to work for the Empire State Campaign in New York, leaving the Citizen
under the temporary management of Harriet Bain. "This action was
undertaken on the understanding that in woman suffrage work, the
welfare of one is the welfare of all," Youmans explained in the Citizen. "It
is tremendously important for Wisconsin that New York shall win . . . ."61
After Congress revived the Anthony Amendment in the same year, it
became equally important to follow the federal amendment. Youmans
frequently reported on the results of hearings and votes in Washington
and in one article advised that local agitation should be directed toward
the Wisconsin congressmen who would be voting on the amendment: "It
is up to you, Madame Suffragist in Mr. Blank's district, to secure his vote
for justice for women."62
For the next five years, Wisconsin organizers temporarily deserted
the state for other campaigns, and these national activities were duly
reported in the Citizen. (Likewise, the vacuum that resulted in state
activism was reflected in the little mention given to state activities by the
paper.) In late 1916, for example, Maude McCreery campaigned for two
months in South Dakota. In early 1917, Alice H. Curtis was dispatched
to New York City to work at the NAWSA headquarters. In late 1916 and
again in early 1917 Jessie Jack Hooper left for Washington, D.C. to serve
in NAWSA's congressional lobby.63
At the same time, some suffragists abandoned the WWSA to join
Alice Paul's militant Congressional Union, which in 1916 became the
National Woman's Party.64 These out-of-state activities took a toll on the
WWSA leadership, especially on Youmans. In addition to maintaining her
position as editor of the Citizen and assistant editor of the Freeman, the
WWSA president frequently found herself traveling between Waukesha,
Milwaukee, Madison, New York and Washington for speaking engage-
ments and campaign activities.65
One way for Youmans to reduce the workload was to streamline the
WWSA organization and focus her energies on the campaign for the
national amendment. Streamlining the WWSA had dire consequences for
the Wisconsin Citizen, however, for Youmans returned to her earlier plan
of changing the publication's format and publishing schedule. In June
1916, she reduced the Citizen from a monthly to a quarterly, and in
January 1917 discontinued publication altogether. The newspaper was
replaced with a one-sheet monthly bulletin to be sent monthly to some
1 00 state newspapers and local societies.66 Youmans' rationale for this
move was that since so little was actually happening on the Wisconsin
front, suffrage developments could effectively be covered by this news
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 53
bulletin and the national suffrage publication, the Woman Citizen. Not a
hint of the changes to come appeared in the pages of the final editions of
the Wisconsin Citizen.**7
WWSA Focus on the Federal Amendment
Although state suffrage bills continued to be submitted and heard in
the Wisconsin legislature for the next two-and-a-half years, the federal
amendment remained the focus of WWSA efforts in these last years of the
movement. This is clearly stated in the December 1918 bulletin. After
mentioning that the WWSA's annual suffrage convention had been
postponed by an influenza epidemic, it announced: "The federal amend-
ment continues to hold the center of the stage, and our deepest interest."
Suffragists should no longer limit themselves to writing their representa-
tives and senators, Youmans advised, but should "make a direct appeal to
Senators from other states." And they should make their will known to
their state representatives so that if the federal amendment were approved,
it would be ratified by the Wisconsin legislature.68
Thus, in the final two years of the fight for suffrage, the WWSA had
no real local voice other than the bulletin and Youmans' column in the
Freeman. It appears ironic, then, that in 1919 Wisconsin women won a
double victory. First, they won presidential suffrage in the state legislature,
then they won the distinction of being citizens in the first state to ratify
the federal amendment.69
Grappling With the Truth
Reformers typically believe in the power of the written word to
change public opinion, often quoting Milton's maxim that if truth and
falsehood are allowed to grapple, truth will prevail.70 Thus for reformers,
freedom of the press is a necessary tool in their attempt to win public
opinion and bring about change or, as they see it, the truth to light.71
Excluded and ridiculed by the mainstream press, reformers typically
establish their own publications to reach the public as well as their own
constituents.
It is ironic, then, that these publications do not always allow
expression (which may be considered the essence of freedom of the press)
to all members within their own constituency. As becomes clear from this
study, even the press of a reform movement can be dominated by elites
who suppress the free flow of ideas.
54 Burt -Spring 1999
In the case of the Wisconsin woman suffrage movement and the
WWSA, it is clear that its organ, the Wisconsin Citizen, was dominated by
two leaders — one succeeded (or better, ousted) by the other — who used
the paper to support their own vision of what the organization should be
and how it should carry out its goals. Although dissent within the Wis-
consin suffrage movement was occasionally given voice in the Citizen,
more often than not, it was suppressed in the interest of the movement's
unity and, perhaps, the preservation of the established leadership.
Thus Olympia Brown, who founded the paper in 1887 and ap-
pointed a series of editors over the years, was able to maintain control of
the Citizen as well as the leadership and campaign tactics of the WWSA
for 26 years. Convinced that the "still hunt" was the best campaign tactic,
Brown believed more flamboyant tactics such as persistent lobbying, street
speaking, and suffrage tours would alienate the very people suffragists
were trying to persuade. When dissenting members of the WWSA
challenged her tactics and leadership, their criticisms were not published
in the paper and the only evidence of this dissent — other than the
correspondence among suffragists and articles published in mainstream
newspaper stories — is found in the few articles the Citizen published
answering these "unjust" charges.
Even after open revolt split the WWSA into two factions, the
Citizen refused to recognize the rebel group. It spoke obliquely of the
inappropriateness of the terms "political equality" and "league," but never
legitimized the rebel group by using its name, the "Political Equality
League." In 1913 Brown was forced from her position, but even here, the
struggle was masked and her "resignation," as that of the Citizens editor in
the following year, was presented in the paper as a graceful departure for
calmer waters.
Under Theodora Youmans' stewardship, the Citizen continued to
suppress dissent. The struggle over the appropriate site of activism for
Wisconsin suffragists was muffled by the battle cry for success on the
national front. Painful debate over the allocation of meager resources was
buried in the enthusiasm to assist in the highly visible campaigns,
marches, and rallies in New York and Washington, D.C.. Although
Youmans later called the Citizen "a doughty defender of the faith for three
decades," she sacrificed it when she had to choose between devoting her
energies to the national or the state suffrage movement.72
What is perhaps most striking is that the demise of the Wisconsin
Citizen was completely unannounced. If there was any debate over what
appears to have been a very abrupt death, it was once again stifled in the
very pages of the victim.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 55
Publications As a Tool For Control
This study, in fact, confirms observations made by other scholars of
reform and social movement publications that such publications do not
always express a unified or representative voice, whether in regard to
ideology, goals or tactics. Perhaps more to the point, this study contradicts
observations by some scholars that women's reform publications, both of
the 19th and 20th centuries, emphasized an "open forum," and a coop-
erative rather than a competitive approach.73 The communities created
and sustained by reform publications, as identified by Folkerts in her
study of the Farmers' Alliance and by Steiner in her study of suffrage
publications, in fact are not always inclusive.74 In the case of the Wisconsin
Citizen and the WWSA, those who did not adhere to the ideas of first
Brown and then Youmans found themselves excluded from the debate in
the publication. To find a place to express their views and find like-
minded women, their only option was to join other organizations such as
the PEL in 1911 and the National Woman's Party in 1916.
These observations suggest a further consideration of the role played
by reform publications. Often viewed as a liberating factor by organiza-
tional leaders and constituents, these publications also serve as a tool for
dominant groups or individuals within a movement to control the flow of
ideas, create an illusion of consensus, and suppress dissent.
This of course can have positive effects — unifying the movement,
making it more effective, allowing it to reach stated goals. But it also can
have negative effects — discouraging or eliminating the free flow of ideas
within the movement, excluding the ideas of those who would challenge
the movement's elite perhaps for the better, forcing dissenters from the
movement, and ultimately distancing the leadership from the constituency.
Social movement scholars have noted that as social movements
mature they become bureaucratized and rigid, controlled by a few leaders
rather than a fluid and creative grass roots constituency.75 If, as this study
indicates, movement publications can come to serve as an organ for
movement leaders rather than constituents, this would suggest one
explanation for the rigidity within maturing social movements and the
gradual disenfranchisement of their members. In this scenario, rather than
serving as a community sounding board, reform publications become
mere mouthpieces for the elite within the movement.
56 Burt -Spring 1999
Endnotes
'Lauren Kessler, The Dissident Press: Alternative Journalism in American History (Newbury Park,
SAGE: 1984), 8-20; Harvey Molotch, "Media and Movements," in The Dynamics of Social
Movements, ed. M. Zald and J. McCarthy (Cambridge: Winthrop, 1979).
:See, for example, Sherilyn Cox Bennion, "Woman Suffrage Papers of the West, 1869-1914,"
American Journalism 3 (1986): 2-14; Linda Steiner, "Finding Community in 19th Century Suffrage
Periodicals," American Journalism 1 (Summer 1983): 1-15; Lynne Masel- Walters, "A Burning Cloud
by Day: The History and Content of the Woman's Journal' Journalism History 3 (1986): 103-108;
Nancy L. Roberts, "A Preliminary Profile of the Nineteenth-Century U.S. Peace Advocacy Press,"
presented to American Journalism Historians Association, Salt Like City, October 1993; Sharon
Murphy, "Neglected Pioneers: 19th Century Native American Newspapers," Journalism History 4:3
(Autumn 1977): 79-82, 98-100.
'Kessler, The Dissident Press, 74.
4In her study of the Farmers' Alliance newspapers of the 1880s, Folkerts also identified two other
major functions of the reform press: to provide information neglected or ignored by the mainstream
press, and to confer a sense of legitimacy on the movement's opposition to the dominant economic
and political structure. Jean Folkerts, "Functions of the Reform Press," in Media Voices: An Historical
Perspective, ed. Jean Folkerts (New York: MacMillan, 1992), 207. Steiner also refers to the sense of
community created by reform journals in her study of suffrage periodicals. (Steiner, "Finding
Community in 19th Century Suffrage Periodicals.")
Tor discussion of the splintering of a social movement, see Jo Freeman, The Politics of Women's
Liberation (Palo Alto: Manfield, 1975); Todd Gitlin, The Whole World is Watching (Berkely: University
of California Press, 1980), and Mayer Zald, "The Trajectory of Social Movements in America,"
Research in Social Movements 10 (1988): 19-41.
^Bernell Elizabeth Tripp, "The Antebellum Press," in The Media in America: A History, 3rd ed., ed.
Win. David Sloan and James D. Startt (Northport, AL: Vision Press), 187. Julius Thompson observes
similar splits in the black press over militancy and accommodationism from the 1890s through the
Civil Rights era. (Julius Thompson, The Black Press in Mississippi, 1865-1985 (University Press of
Florida, 1993.)
7See, for example: Janet M. Cramer, "Woman as Citizen: Race, Class, and the Discourse of
Woman's Citizenship, 1894-1909," Journalism Monographs 165 (March 1998); Linda Steiner, "19th-
century Suffrage Periodicals: Conceptions of Womanhood and the Press," in Ruthless Criticism: New
Perspectives in U.S. Communication History, ed. William S. Solomon and Robert W McChesney
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993).
"Quoted in Steiner, "19th-century Suffrage Periodicals," 92.
''Examination of various histories of social movement publications reveals examples of this
tendency. Reform and alternative publications, in fact, often became known as the paper of the
founding editor or editors. A few examples that come readily to mind are Frederick Douglass Paper,
Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony's Revolution, Amelia Bloomer's Lily, and Benjamin
Flower's Arena.
"'Dominick LaCapra, "Rethinking Intellectual History and Reading Texts," in Modern European
Intellectual History: Reappraisals and New Perspectives, ed. Dominick LaCapra and Steven L. Kaplan
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1982), 47-84.
"The territorial conventions rejected it as "impractical and unnecessary." Theodora W Youmans,
"How Wisconsin Women Won the Ballot" Wisconsin Magazine of History 5(1921): 3-4.
'Taura Ross Wolcott, "Wisconsin," in History of Woman Suffrage v. 3, 1 876- 1 885, ed. Elizabeth
Cady Stanton, (New York: Arno and the New York Times, 1969), 640-41; Youmans, "How
Wisconsin Won the Ballot," 8-11; Olympia Brown, "Wisconsin's Fight for Suffrage," Milwaukee Free
Press Sunday Magazine, 23 July 1911, 1 . For discussion of Emma Brown and the Wisconsin Chief, see
Genevieve G. McBride, On Wisconsin Women: Workingfor Their Rights from Settlement to Suffrage
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1993), 22-37; 106-1 10.
l3Brown was a graduate from Antioch College (class of 1860) and was the second female minister
to be ordained in the United States. She founded the New England Woman Suffrage Association in
1868 and helped found the American Equal Rights Association in 1866. In 1878, she moved to
Racine whete she took the pulpit in a Universalis! church and where her husband, John Henry Willis
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 57
became part owner and business manager of the Times Publishing Company. (Charles E. Neu,
"Olympia Brown and the Woman's Suffrage Movement," Wisconsin Magazine of History 43 [Summer
I960]: 277-79.)
uBrown, "Wisconsin," 989-91; Youmans, "How Wisconsin Women Won the Ballot," 16-17;
William Francis Raney, Wisconsin: A Story of Progress (New York: Prentice Hall, 1940), 325.
l5"To Timid Friends," Wisconsin Citizen, February 1888, 3; Brown, "Wisconsin's Fight for
Suffrage." During its earl)' years The Wisconsin Citizen was printed at the Times-Call press, where
Brown's husband, John Henry Willis, was part owner.
"■Brown, "Wisconsin's Fight for Woman Suffrage"; Youmans, "Wisconsin," 701; Ada Lois James
Papers, reel 4, doc. 1074, State Historical Society of Wisconsin Archives and Manuscripts Collection,
Madison, Wis. (hereafter ALJ Papers).
17Youmans, "Wisconsin," 703-4; Genevieve G. McBride, "Theodora Winton Youmans and the
Wisconsin Woman Movement," Wisconsin Magazine of History 71 (Summer 1988): 248.
"Because of highly organized opposition from the brewing industry and the German-American
Alliance, Wisconsin had been identified as a "losing proposition" by the NAWSA.
'''Youmans, "Wisconsin," 705-08.
2"Here the word "minority" is used to describe the concept of powerlessness rather than a numerical
percentage of less than half.
1 '"Salutatory," Wisconsin Citizen, August 1887, 1.
"It was published as a monthly and bimonthly 1887-1914; as a monthly 1914-1916, and as a
quarterly 1916-1917. Membership in the WWSA was one dollar per year.
23Under Youmans's editorship, the Citizen was sent to other suffrage periodicals and newspapers as
exchanges in addition to being circulated to subscribers. Efforts were also made to boost circulation
by combining subscriptions to the Citizen with those to the Woman's Journal. "Report of Headquar-
ters," Wisconsin Citizen, February 1915, 5.
"Editors and places of publication were: Mrs. M. P. Dingee, Racine (1887-1894); Mrs. H. H.
Charlton, Brodhead (1894-1906); Lena V. Newman, Brodhead (1906-1914), and Theodora Winton
Youmans, Waukesha (1914-1917). ("Preface," in microfilm collection of The Wisconsin Citizen, in
Woman's Press Collection, Memorial Library Microfilm Collection, University of Wisconsin, Madison.)
''McBride, "Theodora Winton Youmans," 246-61; "Preface" to Wisconsin Citizen Collection.
lhWisconsin Citizen, 1887-1917, passim; "Our Editor," Wisconsin Citizen, November 1889, 1.
"Wisconsin Citizen, passim.
^Wisconsin Citizen, passim. The majority of records and correspondence of the WWSA and the
PEL are contained in the Ada Lois James Papets and the Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association
Papers at the State Historical Society of Wisconsin in Madison.
"'Neu, 279-81.
3"Brown, "Wisconsin's Fight for Suffrage," 1; Lawrence L. Graves, "The Wisconsin Woman
Suffrage Movement, 1846-1920," (Ph.D. Diss., University of Wisconsin, 1954), 111; "Report of the
Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association," Wisconsin Citizen, May 1910, 2.
31Josephine Kulzick to Olympia Brown, 23 March 191 1, ALJ Papers, box 5, folder 1.
3-"Report of Annual Meeting," Wisconsin Citizen, October 1910, 2.
"Mary Swain Wagner to Ada James, Match 8, 1911, ALJ Papers, box 5, folder 1 .
34 'Milwaukee Journal, 1 April 1911, 8; Olympia Brown, "To the Wisconsin Woman Suffrage
Association," April 191 1, 3.
35Brown, "An Explanation," Wisconsin Citizen, March 1911, 1.
3fl" Meeting of WS. A. in Madison," Wisconsin Citizen, March 1911, 1.
37See, for example, Brown to James, July 1911, ALJ Papers, box 6, folder 1 .
3801ympia Brown, "To the Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association," Wisconsin Citizen, April
1911,2.
3'Youmans, "Wisconsin," 700-01; "The Launching of the Ship," Milwaukee Journal, 1 1 April
191 1, 1. Wagner's machinations soon alienated the rebel faction as well. She withdrew briefly to New
York, then returned to Wisconsin and in November 1911 organized her own group, the American
58 Burt • Spring 1999
Suffragettes, in Milwaukee. This group, however, was small and disorganized. (See: "Miss Mary
Back," Milwaukee Journal, 27 June 1911, 1; Gwendolen B. Willis, "The Co-operative Committee,"
Wisconsin Citizen, June 1912, 5.)
""Olympia Brown, "Wisconsin to the Front," Wisconsin Citizen, June 1911, 3.
4l"The Wis. W.S.A.," Wisconsin Citizen, July-August 1911,3. This article mentioned that James
had resigned her position with the WWSA to become president of an "opposing society."
4'The Press Bulletin is described in "Wisconsin Active Along Many Lines," Woman's Journal, 4 May
1912, and "Press Work in Wisconsin," Woman's Journal, 14 September 1912. The last issue of the
Bulletin was published on 28 November 1912.
"""Address of Rev. Olympia Brown," Wisconsin Citizen, October 191 1, 3; Gwendolen B. Willis,
"What Methods," Wisconsin Citizen, December 1911, 1-2. Brown reiterated her position in a letter to
Ada Lois James, warning her that her "untimely and most injurious movement" (the PEL) would
defeat the suffrage referendum. (Brown to James, July 1911, ALJ Papers, box 6, file 1.)
44One exception was an article about an auto tour by Illinois suffragist Catherine Waugh
McCulloch in summer 1912. McCulloch and Brown had been friends and suffrage allies since the
1890s and in 1891 Brown had christened McCulloch's oldest son. (See "The McCulloch Tour,"
Wisconsin Citizen, April 1912, 5.)
*iSIn her farewell address, published in the December 1912 -January 1913 issue of the Citizen,
Brown referred to the recent division of the WWSA, the "first sign of serious disagreement in all the
years since the society was founded in 1882." Referring obliquely to Wagner, she placed the blame for
the division on "influences and persons outside the state." (Brown, "Farewell Address," Wisconsin
Citizen, December 1912 -January 1913, 1-2.)
46" Wisconsin Women at it Again," Wisconsin Citizen, November 1912, 1.
^Wisconsin Citizen, 1913-1917, passim. Having a column specifically labelled as the "President's
Letter" was a departure from tradition, for although during her presidency Brown had typically
published signed columns in the Citizen, these were not marked as coming from the president. Brown
probably felt this was superfluous, as everyone knew she was the president. Because Brown continued to
publish signed articles in the publication after her removal as president, it is possible that Youmans
felt the need of establishing her own position and authority by labelling her own columns as the
official voice of WWSA leadership.
'l8James to Youmans, 17 June 1913, Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association Papers, box 2, folder
2, State Historical Society of Wisconsin Archives and Manuscripts Collection, Madison, Wis.
(hereafter WWSA Papers); "Annual Meeting of the Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association,"
Wisconsin Citizen, November-December 1913, 2-3.
""''Brown, "How 'The Citizen' Could Be Made Self-Supporting," Wisconsin Citizen, September
1913, 2; "Annual Meeting of the Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association," Wisconsin Citizen,
November-December 1913, 3-4; Willis to Youmans, 12 January 1914, WWSA Papers, box 3, folder
1; Brown to Youmans, 14 January 1914, WWSA Papers, box 3, folder 1.
s"Youmans, "Salutatory," Wisconsin Citizen, June 1914, 1.
"Brown remained a member of the WWSA, although she devoted her energies increasingly to the
campaign for a federal amendment and eventually aligned herself with Alice Paul's National Woman's
Party. In 1920, at the age of eighty-five, she was allowed to vote for the first time (Neu, 284-85.)
'Tlexner, 145-51, 159-81,222-31.
53In 1887, for example, Mary Livermore and Lillie Devereux Blake of New York and Rev. Anna
Garland Spencer of Rhode Island, spoke at meetings throughout the state ("The Work for August,"
"Mrs. Mary Livermore," Wisconsin Citizen, August 1887, 1, 3). In 1894, Emma Smith DeVoe of
Illinois gave a series of suffrage lectures ("Mrs. DeVoe's Lectures," Wisconsin Citizen, November 1894,
4). And during the 191 1-1912 campaign, the participation of Harriet Grim and Catherine Waugh
McCulloch of Illinois was financed by the NAWSA ("Miss Harriet Grim of 111.," Wisconsin Citizen,
July-August 1911,8; "The McCulloch Tour," Wisconsin Citizen, April 1912, 5; "Mrs. DeVoe's Visit,"
Wisconsin Citizen, October 1911, 4; "Generous Friends," Wisconsin Citizen, July 1912, 1.)
54Graves, "The Wisconsin Suffrage Movement," 111.
"Clara Bewick Colby to My Dear Mrs. Proudfoot, 1 May 1915, Clara Bewick Colby Papers, box 4,
folder 1, State Historical Society of Wisconsin Archives and Manuscript Collection, Madison, Wis.;
Flexner, 273-276, 286-301; McBride, "Theodora Winton Youmans and the Wisconsin Woman
Movement," 263-70.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 59
5f,In 1910, for example, a proposal from rhe NAWSA thar the WWSA reorganize along Congres-
sional voting lines was seen as a challenge to the authority of the various chapters scattered around the
state. The WWSA voted to delay such a plan until it was "more fully developed," but did make a
resolution that the NAWSA should push for a federal amendment. ("Report of Annual Meeting,"
Wisconsin Citizen, October 1910, 3.)
57See, for example, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, "Progress is the Law," (From the Boston Investigator),
reprinted in Wisconsin Citizen, January 1901, 2; "The Federation of Women's Clubs in Michigan,"
Wisconsin Citizen, January 1900, 1; Ida Husted Harper, "Women in Congress," Wisconsin Citizen,
January 1902, 1. It was a common practice for newspapers during this period to share material
through "exchanges."
5The 1913 bill was subsequently approved by the legislature and then vetoed by the governor. See:
"The Governor Vetoes the Bill," Wisconsin Citizen, June 1913, 3.
^'"Resolution of the 63rd Congress," Wisconsin Citizen, April 1913, 1.
"Youmans, "Our Most Pressing Need," Wisconsin Citizen, April 1913, 1.
61Youmans, "Going to New York," Wisconsin Citizen, September 1915, 1.
"Youmans, "The Vote in the House," Wisconsin Citizen, January 1915, 1; Youmans, "Our
Congressmen and Our Cause," Wisconsin Citizen, February 1915, 1; "Lenroot and the Amendment,"
Wisconsin Citizen, December 1915, 2; Youmans, "Your Responsibility," Wisconsin Citizen, January
1917, 1.
,,3"Four Hundred Dollar Hat," Wisconsin Citizen, January 1917, 4; "Suffrage Headquarters,"
Wisconsin Citizen, September 1913, 4; "Personal," Wisconsin Citizen, January 1917, 4; "Mrs. Hooper
in Washington," Wisconsin Citizen, January 1917, 2.
'""McBride, "Theodora Winton Youmans," 263-69.
""Swinging 'Round the Circle," Wisconsin Citizen, January 1917, 2.
f'The bulletin retained the name The Wisconsin Citizen, with a subtitle, "Monthly Bulletin of the
Wisconsin Woman's Suffrage Association." It is clear, however, that it was not published on a regular
monthly basis, for in the December 1918 issue, Youmans apologized for missing several weeks as the
result of an illness.
fi7In 1917, the Woman's Journal, which had been the official organ of NAWSA since 1890, merged
with the Woman Voter and the National Suffrage News to become the Woman Citizen.
''"Wisconsin Citizen, December 1918.
''''Youmans, "Wisconsin," 706.
7"John Milton, Areopagitica, \6AA. See for example, an editorial cartoon published in the Woman's
Journal, "Wall of Public Opinion," that shows a suffragist building a wall of positive public opinion
with individual stones labelled "Suffrage News," Editorial," and "Cartoons." ("Wall of Public
Opinion," Woman's Journal, 2 Oct. 1915.) Another reform organization, the Anti-Saloon League, used
the same metaphor. An editorial cartoon published in the American Issue, "Publicity Will Kill Him,"
shows a knight with a sword labelled "truth" confronting a dragon representing "Demon Rum."
("Publicity Will Kill Him," American Issue, 17 July 1915.)
7lThese sentiments are clearly expressed in many reform publications of the period, including the
Woman's Journal and the American Issue, the journal of the Anti-Saloon League. See Elizabeth V. Burt,
"An Arena For Debate: Woman Suffrage, the Brewing Industry, and the Press, Wisconsin, 1910-
1919," (Ph.D. diss, University of Wisconsin, 1994), 430-431.
72Youmans, "How Wisconsin Women Won the Ballot," 17.
73In her study of 19th-century periodicals, Steiner concludes that Aldrich's invitation to diverse
ideas (cited above) was typical of 19th-century suffrage editors and was "remarkably prophetic of the
continuing commitment of feminists to let women express themselves in their own way..." (Steiner,
"19th-century Suffrage Periodicals," 93.) In an analysis of women's media between 1963 and 1983,
Martha Leslie Allen attributed eight characteristics to women's communication networks, which
included women's publications. These included: allowing women to speak for themselves; using a
sharing instead of a competitive approach; using a non-attack approach toward different views; and
emphasizing an "open forum." (Quoted in Maurine H. Beasley and Sheila J. Gibbons, A Documentary
History of Women and Journalism, 2nd ed. [Washington, D.C.: American University Press, 1993],
192.)
60 Burr -Spring 1999
7,Folkerts, ""Functions of the Reform Press;" Steinet, "Finding Community in Nineteenth Century
Suffrage Periodicals."
7,Jo Freeman, The Politics of the Women's Liberation, 551; Suzanne Staggenborg, "The Consequences
of Professionalization and Formalization in the Pro-Choice Movement," American Sociological Review
53 (August 1988): 585-606; and John D. McCarthy and Mayer N. Zald, The Trend of Social
Movements in America: Professionalization and Resource Mobilization (Morristown, N.J.:General
Learning Press, 1973): 24-25.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 61
Spring 1999
62
Flying Around the World in
1889— In Search of the
Archetypal Wanderer
by Paulette D. Kilmer
Two young "ladies" challenged traditional definitions of a woman's place
by racing against each other to beat the time set by Jules Verne's hero, Phileas
Fogg. Their quest reflects the often nebulous line between fiction and reality.
Their trek symbolizes the fascination with wanderers deeply imprinted within
the American mindset. This essay analyzes the archetypal significance of
women flying (speeding) around the world in 1889.
Once upon a time, 20 blind historians went on a picnic to
the zoo. Their tour guide invited them to feel the crea-
tures so they could appreciate each ones unique character.
Soon a guessing game started. The fangs and halitosis gave away the tiger.
The thick bumps and big, leathery grin elicited a chorus of "crocodile"!
Then, the experts at inferences based on tactile information got stumped.
One, tugging on the beast's tail, swore it had to be a snake! The one
feeling the ear, deduced it could be none other than a stingray. The one
petting the side declared the keeper had pulled a trick on them; actually,
they were being shown a wall. The fellow with the trunk insisted the
critter was an anteater. Not until they stopped wrangling and pooled their
evidence did they figure it out — the mystery animal was an elephant.
Paulette D. Kilmer is an Assistant Professor of History, Ethics and Law at the University
of Toledo.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 63
In some ways, all historians are blind. None of us has the expertise
to understand all the fields our colleagues investigate. We divide ourselves
quickly into qualitative and quantitative factions but actually we comprise
many threads of insight: feminism, biography, critical studies, cultural
studies, economics, and a myriad of other subtopics, each vital in its
contribution to the tapestry of the past. When historians first proposed
studying women's history, some denounced the idea as trivial. We must be
open to new areas of inquiry because what doesn't grow, dies. New
approaches and focuses revitalize the standard ways of doing historical
research.
I write about archetypes and values. My work is crucial because I use
interdisciplinary resources to evaluate experiences in terms of motivations
that arise from the bedrock of American values. I study the public lives of
people because the public stories they tell about themselves shape cultural
perceptions of what it means to be an American. The mass media are
innately emotional. My work objectively analyzes those feelings and
patterns of symbols that teach us our society's mores. My evidence
includes newspaper and magazine articles, biographies, and an avalanche
of excellent historical studies contributed by other historians as well as by
cultural scholars.
This essay provides a different perspective for viewing Nellie Bly. It
is not the only way to assess her accomplishments. Nevertheless, until we
consider together Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland (her rival for the title
of America's globe-trotting sweetheart) we will not appreciate how they
reflected the turmoil of changing expectations and challenges that con-
fronted women at the turn of the century.
The Fascination of Distant Places
A hundred years ago, "flying around the world" meant circling the
globe swiftly. The implosion of inventions in the late 19th century stirred
up interest in rapid travel as a moneymaking venture. However, the idea
of journeying to distant places fascinated ordinary people more than
profit motives. In the 1870s, Jules Verne's story about an English gentle-
man, Phileas Fogg, who wins a wager at his club by dashing Around the
World in 80 Days, captured the imagination of the multitude in the
United States.1 In fact, Fogg's adventures inspired the Neiv York World, the
most powerful newspaper in 1889, to send a reporter, Nellie Bly [Eliza-
beth Cochrane], to beat Fogg's time. The editor of Cosmopolitan magazine
bet $1,000 that his writer, Elizabeth Bisland, would finish before Bly.
64 Kilmer -Spring 1999
Thus, the figment of Verne's imagination, Phileas Fogg, lived once
again — this time on the pages of newspapers around the world. Of course,
the furor created a demand for the science fiction novel and for products
bearing Bly's name or likeness. Feminists have concentrated on the impact
of Bly's feat on the treatment of women and the development of political
agendas. To discover the real woman behind the legendary figure, biogra-
phers have focused on Bly's struggles as well as her triumphs. Because
other scholars have analyzed the social and cultural implications of the
race, it is possible to examine this historical event as a saga in the mythol-
ogy of the United States of America. The flesh-and-blood globe-trotters
inspired an American legend and, therein, revived an old archetype
(repeating pattern) in the bedrock of national consciousness.
Bly And Bisland As Cultural Myths
In this essay, I will apply Jungian concepts to the facts others have
already established as well as to some primary sources. The purpose of this
venture, then, is to illuminate why Nellie Bly's flight around the world
became a cultural myth and how she embodied the icon for pluck. Bly
and Bisland both defied the customs of their day and achieved fame for
their courageous trek. But, while Bly became a footnote in history,
Bisland vanished.
This essay will answer three questions to explain why the World's
daring stunt girl and not Cosmopolitans dainty writer left an indelible
mark on the American mindset: How did Bly reflect the invasion of
women into male domains? How did Bisland epitomize the rebuff of
female advancement into public arenas by traditionalists? How did Bly
crystallize into the icon for pluck and her story become a legend? Answer-
ing these questions entails expanding on three themes: women's break
from the gingham ghetto; women's view of themselves as trailblazers, and
one woman, Nellie Bly, as the archetypal wanderer.
Out of the Kitchen, Into the World
During the late 19th century, women struggled to discover their
identity by "[leaving] the known for the unknown." 2 When Elizabeth
Cochrane, who had already added an "E" to the end of her name, crashed
the newsroom, she took Nellie Bly as her pen name. This plucky upstart
served as a role model for those aspiring to be "new women" and reporters
rather than recipe editors or fashion critics. 3 Her rival, Elizabeth Bisland,
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 65
defended hearth and home against rebels like Bly. Both the modern girl,
Bly, and her old-fashioned challenger, Bisland, shattered the image of
women as helpless vessels incapable of retaining their sanity if thrust into
public spheres.
However, although their dash around the globe was remarkable, it
was not a fluke. This publicity stunt reflected the upsurge of nonconfor-
mity that prompted women in numerous walks of life to question stale
social conventions. In 1887, the famous muckraker, Ida M. Tarbell,
declared that journalism offered women a wide-open field of opportunity. 4
By 1890, 4,500 women served as physicians, surgeons, osteopaths,
chiropractors, healers, and medical service workers. Another 2,500
graduated with bachelor of arts degrees from colleges and universities, and
250,000 women taught in a variety of institutions.
Women's clubs and professional organizations also emerged during
the late 19th century. Of course, settlement houses and consumer leagues
as well as the temperance and suffrage crusades proved that women could
assume responsibility for guiding social change.5 Bly covered woman-
suffrage events, interviewed Susan B. Anthony (whom she praised for
being both brainy and well-dressed), and limited her support of the cause
to setting an example for others to follow.6 Bisland warned in a short
story, "The Coming Subjugation of Man," that human males might find
themselves consigned to drones in the hive of humanity if women ever
attained equality.7 On this issue of women's rights, indeed on most
points, the two globe-trotters disagreed vehemently.
Events in 1889 and 1890 showed that women could participate
productively in many arenas once considered appropriate only for men.
For example, while Bly raced against time, settlers in Wyoming refused
to accept statehood unless their wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters
were allowed to enter with voting rights. For 20 years before Wyoming
attempted to join the Union, women there had participated as enfran-
chised citizens and served on juries. "When Wyoming celebrated its newly
won statehood in Cheyenne on July 23, 1890, the flag honoring the
occasion was presented to the Governor by Mrs. Esther Morris, 'the
mother of woman suffrage in Wyoming.'"8
In that same year, Ida B. Wells, editor of the Memphis Free Speech,
lost her teaching job when she criticized the inferior schools run for
African American children. She fled the city when her crusade against
lynching precipitated death threats from the Ku Klux Klan. Despite a tide
of public disapproval, Wells published her two-year investigation of
lynching and lectured in Great Britain, where she organized anti-lynching
66 Kilmer 'Spring 1999
societies. Perhaps her journey of the soul was more remarkable than Bly
and Bisland's global chase. Wells certainly proved to be just as dedicated
and courageous as Bly, whom Mayor Cleveland of Jersey City credited
with "[adding] another spark to the great beacon light of American
liberty, that is leading people of other nations in the grand march of
civilization and progress."9 During the last years of her life, Bly devoted
her newspaper column to finding homes for orphans. She wrote passion-
ately about the Pullman Strike, the drought in the Midwest, and Eugene
Debs' commitment to social justice.10 Both Wells and Bly cared passion-
ately about reform, and their lives as well as their deeds provided examples
of how women of vision could change the world.
A Stage for Experimenting with Progress
Newspapers followed both Bly's and Wells' efforts to change society.
Such stories related facts but also incorporated the community's shared
narratives about a woman's place, role, and rightful aspirations. Moreover,
the popular press, including dailies and magazines, offered writers a stage
for experimenting with the consequences of progress and for revamping
traditional plots to accommodate the advancement of women into civic,
political, and professional circles. Browsing through editions of the
Detroit Evening News that appeared during Bly's sojourn to immortality
revealed that, besides detailed accounts of wrecks and fires, journalists
then as now sought news of unusual individuals who dared to be uncon-
ventional. Of course, Bly's triumph generated lively copy.
Two articles about the "girl reporter" who outwitted Father Time
appeared toward the end of her quest. In one item, the editors lamented
that Bisland had missed her connections and, therein, her chance to beat
Bly." While Rittenhouse suggested that Verne had promised to applaud if
Bly made the journey in 79 days and had declared that if she did it in 75
days, it would be a miracle, the Michigan editors reported on November
24 that the French author had tried to discourage the "sylph" of the New
York World.
Beneath the article about Bly, an item recounted the fate of an
aeronaut who flew into the skies over Honolulu in a balloon. The wind
blew him two miles out to sea. He parachuted into the rough waves. A
boat sped to rescue him. "[But] not a trace was found. No doubt he was
eaten by sharks."12 Other items depicted disasters at sea and the possibil-
ity of creating a tubular train engine that would whisk passengers to their
destinations at record-breaking paces. Bly took off for foreign ports in
risky times indeed.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 67
Sir Henry Morton Stanley's search for Dr. David Livingstone
commanded about four times as much coverage as Bly's bid "to put her
girdle 'round the earth." l3 These stories about journeys reflect the interest
in transportation even in small city dailies. The realization that vacation-
ing helped people stay healthy generated an avalanche of copy about
travel in the late 19th century. Bly and Bisland both relied upon commer-
cial carriers, showing that remote locales could be safely reached.
The stormy seas and the number of shipwrecks between November
1889 and late January 1890 did not discourage the drove of adventurers
who followed Bly's example. Bly returned a heroine, toasted on five
continents. However, before her victory over Bisland and the stopwatch,
some editors criticized the stunt reporter. For example, the trade maga-
zine, The Journalist: Devoted to Newspapers, Authors, Artists and Publishers,
predicted Bisland would finish first and, later, accused the World of
playing dirty tricks to ensure Bly's victory. Although in November 1889,
The Journalist gushed that the race would serve some "great humanitarian
purpose," when Bly won, the editor scoffed, "Today we have the lightning
press, the paragraph-long editorial, the special railroad train, the Atlantic
Cable, the telephone, the phonograph, and Nelly [sic] Bly — What of it?
Forsooth."14
Newspapers often overlooked in historical studies also slammed Bly.
For instance, on January 12, 1890, the Detroit Neivs solved "The Mystery
of Nellie Bly" by relating the "History of the Girl Who Is Flying Around
the World." The headline also declared that she was "an Eccentric Young
Man-Hater Who, to Support a Widowed Mother, Has Undergone
Dangers and Experiences Without Parallel in the Annals of Woman-
hood." Moreover, "Not one newspaper reader in a thousand is quite sure
whether Nellie Bly is of the feminine gender." 15
Facing the Jealousy of Her Colleagues
Biographer Brooke Kroeger concluded that The Journalist and
editors snubbed Bly because many of her colleagues seethed with jealousy.
The rumors surrounding Bly's identity included allegations that she wore
trousers and drank "absinthe frappe in inordinate quantities." Some
insisted that the real Nellie Bly was the father of "an interesting trio of
bouncing baby boys" whose wife wrote the columns. 16
However, The Journalist inferred, "No doubt she has performed feats
worthy of the sterner sex, but she is eminently feminine in her appearance
and manners."17 The Journalist preferred Bisland over Bly. For example,
68 Kilmer -Spring 1999
the January 25, 1890 issue briefly told readers Bly was Pink Cochrane
who had started her career with the Pittsburgh Dispatch and noted that the
Nellie Bly game rivaled Parcheesi and Fifteen Puzzle in popularity. A few
pages later, the editors gushed in a lengthy paragraph over Bisland's dainty
and distinctive style "quite aside from her observant and receptive facul-
ties as a gleaner of news . . . ."18
The Michigan paper dispensed these false tales: Bly was, in fact, a
woman — "past the school-girl age and not yet at the quarter post of old
maidism [sic]." She was "a very ordinary, everyday young woman, rather
slight in form, leaning to eccentricity in dress, masculine in her tastes and
ideas...." Not only was this maverick unladylike, but she "had never been
in love with any human being on the face of the earth except her
mother."19 The article cast Bly's adventures invading the newsroom,
gallivanting to Mexico, and crusading for reform into a twisted parable
about how dangerous escapades and unfeminine behavior — all just to get
the story — had ruined Bly's demeanor and social life.20
Although the feature about Bly reflects the Detroit daily's frantic
scramble to keep things the same by denying women public roles, news
items about women in Detroit — indeed, in the nation — begin to erode
that very stance against female participation. For example, Susan B.
Anthony's speeches on behalf of suffrage generated several sympathetic
stories. However, the most fascinating pieces dealt with ordinary women
right in the city. Some acted out of passion or conviction. Others felt the
pinch of economic necessity. All joined the ranks of Bly and Bisland as the
path-breakers of changes that, ultimately, would empower women to
become spiritual as well as physical wanderers. Through their quests,
women would attain enough wisdom to balance their need for commu-
nity ties with their equally compelling need for solitude.
"Lady" Trail Blazers
Although today the word "lady" connotes foolish affectation, a
century ago even nonconformists, like Nellie Bly, still feared losing their
status as ladies. Olga Stanley denounced the "mannish woman," conclud-
ing that successful women journalists made it their priority to be attrac-
tive and "beloved by . . . co-workers and fellow-beings generally." 21
Venturing out of the home exposed women to the glare of public scrutiny,
and, therein, the risk of losing their social status. Often, men did most of
the shopping, and some business districts remained virtually closed to
women. Books prescribed strict rules of conduct to maintain the shield of
Spring 1999 •American Journalism 69
privacy that protected a woman's virtue. In Rudeness and Civility: Manners
in 19th Century Urban America, John F. Kasson noted that rebels who
played a role in shaping community life "continued to be branded
shameless and unwomanly. If the ideal for both men and women was to
be completely inconspicuous in public, for women the stakes were much
higher and the possibilities for transgression much greater." n
Nevertheless, despite the risks, women broke the rules. Like Bly,
they responded to psychological needs for attaining a balance between
personal fulfillment and social expectation, for developing a sense of self
as a character in the community's ongoing story. To understand them-
selves and others, they relied upon archetypes (repeated patterns embed-
ded deep within the mind and spirit, often via narratives).
Wanderers Instead of Shadows
Thus, the resolve to forge ahead by assuming unconventional roles
arose from inner conviction. Myths, including the story of the Pleiades,
indicate the quest for self-improvement began eons ago. Like the heroines
in that Australian story of sisters who conquered darkness by becoming
stars, ordinary women as well as remarkable achievers, like Nellie Bly,
dispelled ignorance by proving themselves capable of performing astonish-
ing deeds. She and other brave women accepted the call to be wanderers
instead of shadows. In the Century of Struggle: The Woman's Rights Move-
ment in the United States, Eleanor Flexner explained how improvements in
the standard of living enabled women to venture outside of the home
without neglecting domestic responsibilities.
It was an era of gee- whiz gizmos. The introduction of gas lighting as
well as municipal water systems and indoor plumbing, the promotion of
canning, the commercial production of ice, the development of efficient
stoves, and the invention of time-saving homemaking tools instilled in
many a respect that bordered on awe for modern things. "From 1865 on,
a veritable domestic revolution was under way, which freed those able to
take advantage of it for pursuits other than housework." 23
While inventions facilitated changes in women's roles, they do not
entirely explain it. These "ladies" drew strength from the rich reservoirs of
traditional stories woven within their psyches. Bly and Bisland invaded
territories of accomplishment designated for "men only." A maverick who
learned from 19th century trailblazers, Jane Wheelright described the
force that drives people to fulfill their potential despite the odds. This
Jungian analyst explained, "A woman with courage, a woman who's
70 Kilmer • Spring 1999
adventurous, a woman who speaks her mind is supported by the ani-
mus."24 The animus represents the male side of a woman's personality just
as the anima embodies the female side of a mans personality. To be
healthy, individuals must balance these polar dimensions of self.
The editors who ridiculed Nellie Bly when she girdled the earth, no
doubt, did not understand this psychological equilibrium. Henrik Ibsen
illuminated the clash of traditional expectations and human needs \nA
Doll's House. That drama depicts Nora's rebellion against being cast in the
suffocating role of helpless mate and childish mother.
Some critics denounced A Doll's House. In fact, Bisland, who
shocked her social circle by accepting the assignment from Cosmopolitan
to race against Bly without chaperones, twice condemned Ibsen's depic-
tion of women's need for self-fulfillment. She blamed "The Abdication of
Men" for the defection of wives from the domestic kingdom and deplored
"the triviality of a drama fit only for wooden puppets." 25 Bisland decried
the "criticism of the marriage relation. The stage concerns itself almost
exclusively with that topic for the moment, Ibsen having struck the key to
which all the playwrights are pitching their chorus of echo. Every book-
stall is heavy with similar discussions in dialogue carried on by the
puppets of fiction." 26
Bisland was one of many women who found themselves straddling
two intellectual pinnacles — on the one hand, the writer expressed the
traditional desire to serve silently a magnanimous master but, simulta-
neously, she felt the urge to express her feelings and to test her potential in
ways entirely inconsistent with being the Victorian home angel. In fact,
by 1889, Bisland was "[working] early and late producing an average of
50,000 words a month and earning some $5,000 a year." 27 Ibsen's
timeless story shook the complacency of 19th century audiences because
Nora embarked upon an inner quest to find herself that took as much
courage as the magazine editor (Bisland) and the stunt reporter (Bly)
summoned to beat Phileas Fogg's record.
From Goddess to "Journalistic Daisy"
Her victory over time earned Bly many titles, including "journalistic
daisy," that subconsciously draw upon that symbolic turf of myth where
pretty girls prefer being transformed into blossoms to being deflowered.
Reconstructing the 1 889 race in archetypal terms emphasizes its cultural
and emotional significance. Archetypes are patterns of behavior, imagery,
or attitudes of subconscious significance that endure and, through
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 71
repetitions over time, saturate culture. In her study of the origins of the
great goddess archetype, Susan Lichtman explained that people often
overlook vibrant female paragons whose adventures delineate what it
means to be a woman. Literature and history record female experience
according to unspoken assumptions about reality that automatically
relegate past generations of sisters to passive, submissive roles. Many
feminine models of courage and greatness have been forgotten. "For
woman to have a future in modern society, she must first have a past that
contains her own traditions, her own folklore, and her own heroes." 28
Bly certainly qualifies as a role model, a heroine for all ages whose
example inspires others to turn dreams into action. Articles about both
Bly and Bisland appear in The New York Times Index. The obvious
references, a trip, a tour around the world, describe all the articles. This
language fits the psychic need to cull the story down to its essential
nugget so that the main points are not buried in an avalanche of detail. 29
Slipping Into Fantasy
In folklore and formula tales, heroines complete quests fraught with
perils. Persevering over incredible odds forces them to develop inner
resources and, thus, prove themselves worthy of emulation. The sacred
quest of Bly and Bisland invited readers to vicariously prevail over forces
of evil — despair, loneliness, and disease. Just as magically as protagonists
in fairy tales persevere far away from home, the flesh-and-blood sojourn-
ers triumphed over the supernatural, faceless foe of fear. Newspapers
around the world as well as around the nation chronicled the adventures
of Bly and Bisland as they conquered time itself. Of course, whenever
reporters recorded the progress of either globetrotter, they inadvertently
enabled readers to slip into the realm of fantasy.
Moreover, readers translated the sprint around the planet into
personally relevant terms. Although they embraced the news stories as
proof of the march of progress, they also subconsciously filed images in
their internal library of mythology. Members of a community inherit a
body of archetypes that preserve values and celebrate individual's contri-
butions to ventures greater than self. In The Wisdom of the Dream,
Stephen Segaller and Merrill Berger point out that all humans are con-
nected by a pool of symbols and archetypes called the collective
unconscious. 30
72 Kilmer -Spring 1999
Despite the differences between newspaper articles (like the lively
accounts of the 1889 race between Bly and Bisland) and fiction (like
Verne's Around the World in 80 Days), one inevitable commonality links
both forms of expression. Both provide readers with imagery, evidence,
and emotional grounding at a subconscious level. Pearson explains that
people find meaning in their lives by weaving their experiences into
narratives that supply scripts for living. Every sequence of action contains
a beginning, middle, and end. The stockpile of plots enables citizens to
recycle ancient archetypes into modern events, thus sustaining the moral
code.
Pearson notes that not all plots merit exploration. Some lie dormant
deep within the subconscious. However, others stay on the surface and
greatly affect people. "For an archetype to have a major influence upon
our lives, there must be some external duplication or reinforcement of the
pattern, an event in one's life or stories recounted in the culture that
activates the pattern."31
The media have always generated narratives that trigger the recogni-
tion of archetypes in public spaces as well as in private homes. Although
reporters seek facts, ultimately readers subjectively interpret the content of
even the most objective account according to its archetypal salience. "For
many, however, the newspaper is the main institution that provides a
sense of belonging." i2 Those who read papers find repeated in truncated
form the patterns that reinforce the value system dominant in their
community.
James W. Carey has pointed out that all writing, including journal-
ism, tells a story built upon character, plot, action, dramatic unity, and
purpose. 33 To appreciate any narrative, readers decode the archetypes
within it and, therein, understand their own experiences. Bly and Bisland
both generated news that invited readers to assess the meaning of their
own as well as of women's lives in general.
Bly, the Eternal Wanderer — Not Bisland
The journey around the world took Bly and Bisland much farther
than simply around the globe. It must have been a trek of the heart like
those psychologist Carl Jung took in the 1920s to learn about himself by
seeing how people in faraway places lived and thought.34 Both women
saw themselves reflected in the eyes of strangers in exotic places. Although
Bisland did not want to go, she decided later that the trip had enriched
her as a writer and expanded her vision of humanity.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 73
The intrepid globetrotters followed Phileas Fogg's route. Neverthe-
less, their quest echoed the universal desire to discover self through
encountering others that had inspired American authors, including
Herman Melville and Mark Twain. When the narrator of Melville's novel,
Moby Dick, invites readers to call him Ishmael (which means wanderer) he
invokes an archetype as old as the human race.35
Ishmael watches hatred consume Captain Ahab and his ship. Ahab's
obsession with killing the great white whale casts mythological themes of
hero quests gone awry into early 19th century American experience. The
image of the outcast determined to complete a journey for noble reasons
has always permeated our popular culture via melodramas, paperbacks,
and newspapers. Bly, willingly, and Bisland, unintentionally, fit this
paradigm because few women traveled anywhere alone and few dared to
defy rules that restricted exciting news coverage to men.
Bly's name still conjures up images of the eternal wanderer, the
seeker who discovers self-worth and identity by exploring mysterious
terrains. Only an American girl could perform such a feat, according to
European papers. Moreover, just as fictional protagonists narrowly avert
disaster, on the last lap of her journey, Nellie Bly's train "almost hurled to
destruction. The escape is a miraculous one, and section men who
witnessed the train flash over the straw-like structure (washed out bridge)
regard the escape as one of the most marvelous in railway history." 36
Notice the dramatic wording of the quotation. Heroines never persevere
in a humdrum fashion.
Pearson points out that the cowboy, the knight, and the explorer
represent the desire to shed the conventions imposed by society long
enough to traverse unknown realms. ,7 The prize is inner peace rather
than material treasures. The process of mythology strips individuals of
their humanity to transform them into icons for archetypes, thus connect-
ing the culture to its values. Nellie has ceased to be a mere woman. She
embodies pluck, chutzpah, and rebellion. Bisland's name is often inter-
changed with Bly's, but her name alone does not symbolize anything. The
opposite natures of the two women considered together illuminate both
Bly's contributions and Bisland's counterclockwise journey around the
world.
In real life, no woman could have been as glamorous or outrageous
as the heroine of the "Tales of Bly," the mythic version of the girl who
turned New York upside down with her exposes of madness and her
conquest of prize fighters and New York's aristocrats. The legends high-
light incidents that fill the intrinsic, human need for role models. As the
74 Kilmer •Spring 1999
feminist movement has emerged in the last quarter of the 20th century,
the litany offemme has resurrected the stories of women who deserve to
be respected for their accomplishments. A few, like Nellie Bly, transcend
history because their experiences echo the archetypal skeleton of the
nation. Comparing the lives of the two globetrotters reveals the difference
between history and cultural memory.
Bly Respected Her Granduncle's Adventure
Elizabeth Cochrane followed in the footsteps of her granduncle,
Thomas Kennedy, who toured the world in three years. Unfortunately, he
died shortly after completing the amazing journey that destroyed his
health. The same spirit of adventure that inspired him to risk his life to
encounter the unknown also fired the imagination of his grandniece.
Kroeger could not document the origin of the spellbinding assignment,
but most accounts insist that Bly forced the editors at the World to send
her — not a man — on the dangerous mission. "But as usual Nellie had
iron determination behind her sweet face." 38 Giving Bly full credit
reflects her personality and adds to her legendary stature.
Elizabeth Bisland, on the other hand, called the global dash a
ridiculous wild goose chase.39 Initially, she refused to accept the assign-
ment. "In the first place, I didn't wish to. In the second place, people were
coming to my house to tea on the following day." 40 Can anyone picture
the indefatigable Bly uttering such heresy?
The contrast between the personalities of the two globetrotters
inadvertently reflects the extremes in modern and traditional choices
women made during the Gilded Age (1870-1914). Nellie Bly: "The New
York World's correspondent who placed a girdle around the earth in 72
days, 6 hours and 1 1 minutes burst like a comet on New York, a dynamic
figure, five feet three, with mournful gray eyes and persistent manners." 41
While Bly rushed to her tailor's to order special clothing — her famous
checkered coat and cap — that she could pack into her valise, Bisland
fretted about not having "appropriate garments" and packed a "good-sized
steamer trunk, a large Gladstone bag, and shawl strap" as well as "a second
larger box with everything [she] could possibly require." 42
Even their pseudonyms reflected their different outlooks. Bly, the
flamboyant tomboy, took her pen name from the Stephen Foster song,
"Nellie Bly." Bisland, the pragmatic lady, published items as B. L. R.
Dane. Both worked for newspapers, but Bisland stayed in the literary
department. Bly, on the other hand, put aside the niceties of the woman's
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 75
turn of phrase in poems, short stories, and essays to crash the newsroom
as a stunt reporter. While Bly was not the first of her sex to work as a
reporter, she was outspoken about her goals in the newsroom. Bly pursued
stunt reporting to prove that she could do the same work men did — a
ghastly notion for many, including Bisland, in 1889.
Although seeing her name in headlines reminded Bly of her success
as a journalist, Bisland felt "distress" when she read her name in a headline
while she worked for the New Orleans Times-Democrat and from then on
wrote unsigned columns. 43 In fact, Bisland secretly mailed her poetry
from a nearby village, fearing that the pseudonym alone would not
protect her identity. 44 Bly relished having her name repeated three times
in headlines that announced her latest pursuit for social justice. Her
column in the New York World in the 1890s not only featured her name
above the copy but included her photo, which also was labeled. Necessity
prodded both women.
According to Frances E. Willard and Mary A. Livermore (her
contemporary biographers) Bisland worked only because while she was a
child her parents had lost all of their property during the Civil War. She
helped support her relatives with her writing, the one potentially commer-
cial talent she had discovered during the prosperous years when the family
still had enjoyed its status as one of the oldest and finest in Louisiana.45
After going to New York, Bisland sought a position as a magazine con-
tributor partly because she disliked being associated with newsrooms
which, like saloons, were forbidden turf for ladies.
"What Are Girls Good For?"
Despite this social taboo, Bly sought a career in journalism. Like
Bisland, she, too, felt compelled to earn money to pay her expenses and
help her family. But unlike the southern author, she relished conquering
the newsroom. Her fiery persona and gutsy stunts caught the public's
imagination. She was the stuff of dreams and wrote fittingly about
Cinnamon Gardens, elephants, and eating Christmas lunch in the Temple
of the Dead in Canton, China. Bisland described suffering from the cold,
fatigue and hunger. She made long literary references and described
sunsets, Chinese playing fantan, going to Japanese theater, watching flying
fish, and everywhere the salutary impact of British rule on heathens. She
feared being lost in the fog or getting influenza.
Meanwhile, Bly visited Jules Verne, bought a monkey, and danced
with princes. Once Bisland asked a man to make arrangements for her
76 Kilmer -Spring 1999
Courtesy of Library of Congress
Elizabeth Cochrane (Nellie Bly) pictured in a photograph dated 1890.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism
77
because she was far away from home, afraid, and exhausted. Bly, on the
other hand, emphasized the thrills awaiting those who flew around the
world solo on regular commercial carriers — ships, trains, sampans,
elephants, or rickshaws. Both of them undoubtedly got seasick. To Bly it
was just another dramatic episode in a splendid romp to best Father Time.
Bisland wrote realistically about the agonies of shipboard illness in 1889.
Nevertheless, both had fun and made friends as they sped across the
continents.
Although both women's styles seem stilted today, each had an
audience. Bly wrote emotionally and transcribed interviews into lively
dialogues. She proved herself capable of doing a man's job by responding
to an article in the Pittsburgh Dispatch, "What Are Girls Good For?" In
her first assignment as a member of the news staff, she examined divorce,
an unseemly topic for a maiden to contemplate.
While Bly focused on the legal problems confronting women
trapped in deplorable domestic situations, Bisland concluded that the
security and comforts of marriage made women "honored priestesses;"
moreover, the noble duty of bearing children negated any possibility of
equality with men.46 Both women expressed themselves powerfully. Bly's
stories reflected the metamorphosis of women in the Gay 90s from the
traditional, sheltered Madonnas in aprons praised by Bisland to the
brazen, modern women like Bly who challenged the bromide — it's a man's
world.
Bisland and Bly both sought fame as literary writers. Bisland
published short stories, essays, and novels. Her name appears in a half-
dozen biographical dictionaries of writers. 47 Bly left The World to pursue
a literary career after her triumphant trip around the world. For six
months, Bly lectured about her experiences. Nellie Bly's Book, Around the
World in 72 Days, rapidly sold out the first printing. The Journalist
predicted that Bly would make more money on her memoirs than English
explorer Sir Henry Morgan Stanley. "Stanley has sold his forthcoming
book [about finding Dr. David Livingston] for $200,000, but we have
already perused his accounts of African exploration. Miss Bly will come
back from a novel enterprise, and her account of her journey should make
a book more salable than Stanley's. The wise publisher will be prepared to
meet the fair traveler at the depot." 48
Bly signed a contract with N. L. Munro's New York Family Story
Paper for three years at the awesome salary of $10,000 a year. However,
she either found the stay-at-home life boring or just did not have any
talent for writing fiction. 49 Bly published books drawn from her newspa-
78 Kilmer -Spring 1999
per writing: her experiences in Mexico as a correspondent for the Pitts-
burgh Dispatch, her expose of Blackwell Island {Ten Days in a Mad House)
for The World and, of course, her book about girdling the globe.
While Bly excelled in the newsroom, Bisland earned respect in
literary circles. She contributed essays to The Atlantic Monthly as well as to
The North American Review, beginning as the protege of Frank Hatton in
the literary department of the Washington Post. Later, she sent pieces to the
New Orleans Times-Democrat and, eventually, published these books: A
Plying Trip Around the World, A Candle of Understanding, The Secret Life,
Life and Letters ofLafcadio Hearn, At the Sign of the Hobby Horse, Seekers
in Sicily, and The Case of John Smith. Bisland stopped writing about 13
years before she died.
Both Bly and Bisland married. Bly's husband, a hardware store
tycoon, was nearly four decades older than his bride. Bly wrote for The
World off and on until she felt secure in her marriage. After the first
stormy year, she found happiness with Robert Seaman. 50 "There were no
more bylines or brass bands." 5I However, a whirlwind of parties, ex-
tended vacations, and luxurious business trips with her husband kept her
busy and contented until Seaman died in 1904, leaving Bly a very rich
widow.
Bisland's tycoon started out a lawyer but soon left the legal profes-
sion to pursue corporate connections in the steel industry and mining
speculations in the Midwest. While Bly chose a father figure for her
partner, at the age of 30, Bisland wed a yachting enthusiast just seven
years older than herself. Neither Bly nor Bisland bore children, but for
several years after her husband's death Bly took in street orphans until she
could arrange adoptions for them.
Bisland's Obituary Duller Than Bly's
By 1919, Bly returned to writing for newspapers to support herself
because litigation with former employees had consumed most of her
fortune. Her old friend, Arthur Brisbane, offered her a job at the New
York Pvening Journal. Times had changed enough so that, on the eve of
the Roaring 20s, Bly's once thrilling style seemed quaint. Nevertheless, she
crusaded for reforms (particularly in the treatment of children) and shook
up the whole nation with her eyewitness account of an execution that
depicted graphically her opposition to capital punishment. "She died still
in harness, doing the work she loved best. There were no close survivors.
The Journal said, simply, "She was considered the best reporter in
America." 52
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 79
Although Bly has become an icon and Bisland has been forgotten
The Neiv York Times gave Bisland, who died on January 9, 1929, on her
estate near Charlottesville, a thorough and upbeat but nevertheless, dry
obituary. Kroeger points out that, overall, New York newspapers ad-
equately saluted Bly, who died nearly penniless in a New York City
hospital on January 27, 1922. They both succumbed to pneumonia. 53
The Associated Press wire story concluded Bly's life "was more active than
falls to the lot of more than one woman in 10,000."54
Two Women But One Myth
Although two flew against time to beat Phileas Fogg in 1889,
usually historians mention only the triumphant one. They often check
coverage in The New York Times because it is the newspaper of record, the
daily with national circulation. The New York Times obituary for the loser
was certainly as complimentary as the winner's death notice; nevertheless,
a century later, Nellie Bly's star blazes amidst the novas of other immortals
whose lives embody sacred cultural tenets. "Creating a character part
dream, part reality, she bettered the world for others while fulfilling her
own destiny. In a startling fashion, she made seemingly impossible hopes
come true." 55
Bly traveled farther faster on new forms of commercial transporta-
tion than anyone had ever imagined possible and, unlike her granduncle,
lived to tell the tale. "The Amazing Nellie Bly" became a part of American
folklore and "a larger-than-life figure" who deserved to be respected for
her contributions as a first-person reporter in an era when men still
dominated newsrooms. 56 Ross credited that "small tornado" with making
"America conscious of the woman reporter" and emphasized Bly's indomi-
table spirit. 57 Frank Luther Mott called her trip around the world "the
most spectacular stunt" performed by any woman in the 1 880s to prove
herself a capable journalist.58
Jean Folkerts and Dwight Teeter do not use the term stunt reporter.
Instead, they recognize Bly as one of Pulitzer's "able staff." 59 Their list of
Bly's crusades reveals why she has become an icon for the wanderer. The
outrageous Nellie Bly did all those things Americans in the 20th century
have come to respect — at least from afar. She defied authority for the sake
of justice. She went to jail. She broke bread with lunatics to help victims
of the system escape from the crudest, most terrifying label of her day —
insanity. She stood her ground even when her knees shook and her heart
pounded. As foreign journalists noted, only an American girl would dare
80 Kilmer 'Spring 1999
fly around the world. Americans like to think of themselves as singular, as
chosen by God for special missions. Nellie Bly fits that conceit.
Bly, not Bisland, remains a symbol of the archetypal wanderer
because she broke the rules creatively to improve society. She persevered.
Had Bly merely beat Phileas Fogg, she probably would have been forgot-
ten as quickly as Bisland. Bly fought corruption in government in Mexico
and among lobbyists in New York state, campaigned for rights for factory
girls, and exposed mashers as well as testified before grand juries about the
conditions in prisons, tenements and hospitals. She married a millionaire
but died penniless and alone — nevertheless contented — demonstrating
that while, ultimately, earthly treasures rust, spiritual riches endure. That
sort of cosmic justice appeals to the American mindset.
However, the loss of her fortune gained its archetypal significance
because through determination and luck, even though she was in her 50s,
Nellie Bly made a comeback. She did not rise to her former celebrity
status as a reporter, but she did arrange homes for orphans and write her
column until she died, which indicated that wealth had not corrupted her.
Rather than accept charity, the widow went to work, an action frowned
upon in 1919, but highly commended today. Bly maintained her respect-
ability and her autonomy by supporting herself with her pen.
Strength from External and Internal Journeys
Bly's life story offers the moral that those who answer the call to
stray from traditional paths transform dreams into reality. In fact, true
wanderers gain strength from essential external and internal journeys.
"Nellie Bly seemed to embody the romance of journalism, the lure of
travel and the pluck of the American girl." 60 Perhaps, her greatest
achievement was in attaining the goal of all wanderers — finding out who
she was while doing the work she loved best. Bly was not an upstart who
broke the rules to shock old fogies. Bly was not one of a kind, unnatural
and unfeminine. Bly was not a solitary woman born into the wrong
century. Her hour of glory transpired, simultaneously, with the awakening
of many sisters driven by inner visions of possibilities that most could not
see. That is why Nellie Bly ceased being Elizabeth Cochrane in cultural
memory. She has become the icon for informed risk-taking that enhances
the self by enabling the soul to grow. She is a legend, a mythic heroine.
The New York Times obituary emphasized Bly's daring exploits, like
testing a diving bell. To eulogize Bisland, The Times declared that an
author had died in the South. Thus, Bly's flamboyant adventures eclipsed
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 8 1
Bisland's quiet accomplishments.61 Nevertheless, the mistake is intriguing
because while history records two bold deeds, mythology and, albeit
inadvertently, the Times index recall but one noble quest fraught with
peril and worthy of emulation. Both women contributed to the history of
transportation by stirring up interest in commercial travel. Moreover, they
proved that both "tomboys" and "nice girls" could complete a task that
required rational thought and physical stamina as well as self-confidence.
Endnotes
1 Jules Verne, Around the World in 80 Days (New York: Dodd, Mead, 1956).
2 Carol S. Pearson, The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By (San Francisco: Harper, 1989) 54.
3 In the same year, Bly and Bisland raced against time, Mary Twombly urged women to cheerfully
and gratefully accept their place in the women's department, the only suitable work for them on
newspapers. See "Women in Journalism," The Writer, 3:8 (Aug. 1889) 169-172. Ida M. Tarbell, in
The Chautaiiquan: A Monthly Magazine Devoted to the Promotion of True Culture, Organ of The
Chautauquan Literary and Scientific Circle, 7:8 (April 1887), concluded that some reporting, like
morgues and the police beat, are impossible for women, 393.
"Tarbell, 393.
'For information about the number of women who participated in ventures outside of the home,
see Eleanor Flexner, The Century of Struggle: The Woman's Rights Movement in the United States
(Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1975) "Chapter XIII: The Growth of
Women's Organizations," especially 179-181.
''Brooke Kroeger, Nellie Bly: Daredevil, Reporter, Feminist (New York: Random House, 1994) 193,
281-286.
7 Elizabeth Bisland, "The Coming Subjugation of Man," Belford's Magazine (October 1889) in
Science-Fiction: The Early Years by Everett E Bleier with assistance from Richard J. Bleier (Kent, Ohio:
Kent State University Press, 1990), 68.
"Flexner, 181.
''Mignon Rittenhouse, The Amazing Nellie Bly (New York: Dutton, 1956) 209.
10 Kroeger, Nellie Bly, Pullman Strike, 229-237; Eugene Debs, 251; the drought in the Midwest,
252 and her reform efforts through her newspaper column during her last years as a reporter, 455-
510.
1 ' "The Globe Trotters [sic] Miss Bisland Deprived of Victory By a Mistake," The Detroit News, 19
January 1890, p. 1., c. 6.
12 "An Aeronaut's Fate. Drops Into the Sea With a Parachute and Devoured by Sharks," Detroit
News, 24 November 1889, p. 1, c. 1.
13 The first story, "Nellie Bly 's Trip," appeared in the Detroit News, 23 November 1889, p. 1, c. 1.
14 Allan T Forman, "By-the-Bye", The Journalist: Devoted to Newspapers, Authors, Artists and
Publishers, 16 Nov. 1889. 10:9, 9; Also, see "The Two Globe Trotters" [sic], 23 Nov. 1889, Vol.
10:10, 9; Allan T Forman, "By-the-Bye," 1 February 1890, 10:20, 8.
15 "The Mystery of Nellie Bly. History of the Girl Who Is Flying Around the World. Eccentric
Young Man-Hater Who, to Support a Widowed Mother, Has Undergone Dangers and Experiences
Without Parallel in the Annals of Womanhood," Detroit News, 12 January 1890, p. 3, c. 1.
ir,"The Mystery of Nellie Bly," Detroit News, 12 January 1890, p. 3, c. 1.
>'■ 'The Journalist, 1 1 January 1890, Vol. 10:17, 6.
'"AllanT Forman, "By-the-Bye," The Journalist, 25 January 1890. 10:19, Two short sentences
about Bly, 5; long paragraph about Bisland, 9.
82 Kilmer • Spring 1999
'''This comment in the Detroit Neivs article, "Mystery of Nellie Bly," proved eventually to be
tragically ironic because disputes over ownership of a steel barrel manufacturing concern resulted in
Bly being abandoned by the very mother whom she had supported and taken care of for years.
Kroeger describes the decay of Bly's family ties in the chapters on bankruptcy and on Bly's final years,
"Bankruptcy", 329-388 and "The Journal", 455-512.
2""The Mystery of Nellie Bly," Detroit News, 12 January 1890, p. 3, c. 1.
21 Olga Stanley, "Personalities of Literary and Journalistic Women," The Outlook, 57:7 (16 October
1897)427.
22 John F. Kasson, Rudeness and Civility: Manners in Nineteenth Century Urban America (New York:
Hill and Wang, 1990) 117-118.
2,Flexner, 182.
u Stephen Segaller and Merrill Berger, The Wisdom of the Dream: The World ofC J. Jung (Boston:
Shambahla, 1990) 115.
25 Elizabeth Bisland, "The Abdication of Man," The North American Review 167 (August 1898)
191.
2(1 Elizabeth Bisland, "Notes and Comments: The Modern Woman and Marriage," The North
American Review 160 (June 1895) 48.
27 Olga Stanley, "Personalities of Literary and Journalistic Women," The Outlook, 57:7 (16 October
1897) 427. Katherine Verdery, "Elizabeth Bisland Wetmore, 1861-", in the Library of Southern
Literature: Compiled Under the Direct Supervision of Southern Men of Letters, ed. Edwin Anderson
Alderman et al, Vol. 13 (New Orleans: Martin and Hoyt, 1907) 5770.
28 Susan Lichtman, The Life Stages of Woman Heroic Journey: A Study of the Origins of the Great
Goddess Archetype (Lewiston, Wales: Mellen, 1991) 3.
2''The articles appear in January of 1890 as the two globe trotters are hurrying to complete the race.
The 1966 New York Times Index in the University of Wisconsin Memorial Library indicates that the
Times ran three items about Bisland (Bisland, Miss., "Tour Around the World," 19 January 1890 1:6;
22 January 1890 2:5, and 23 January 1890, 9:6.) The Index lists one article about Bly: "Trip Around
the World, Arrival at New York," 26 January 1890, 8:3. Since the New York Times tried to avoid the
sensationalism that made Bly's paper The New York World popular; the editors may have hoped
Bisland would beat the stunt reporter.
"'Stephen Segaller and Merrill Berger, The Wisdom of the Dream: The World of C J. Jung (Boston:
Shambahla, 1990) especially Chapter Seven: "Travels in Time and Space," 126-153.
"Carol S. Pearson, The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By (San Francisco: Harper, 1989) xxv-
xxvi.
32 Daniel C. Hallin, "Where? Cartography, Community, and the Cold War," in Reading the News,
Robert Carl Manoff and Michael Schudson, eds. (New York: Pantheon, 1986) 117.
33 James W. Carey, "Why and How? The Dark Continent of Journalism," in Reading the News, 149.
34 Segaller and Berger, 136.
35 Herman Melville, Moby Dick or the Whale (New York: Random House, 1930).
v' "Nellie Bly's Escape. Her Special Train Almost Hurled to Destruction. Going at a Rate of Over
Fifty Miles an Hour, Track Repairers Fail to Stop It Where the Rails Were Not Spiked Down — The
Train Went Over Safely," The Detroit Evening News, 23 January 1893, p. I.e. 2.
'Pearson, 51.
3*Madelon Golden Schilpp and Sharon M. Murphy, Great Women of the Press (Carbondale:
Southern Illinois U P, 1983) 140. Also, see Kroeger, Nellie Bly.
'"Elizabeth Bisland, "A Flying Trip Around the World: Second Stage," The Cosmopolitan 9:1 (May
1890)56.
■"'Elizabeth Bisland, "A Flying Trip Around the World: First Stage, "The Cosmopolitan, 8:6, (April
1890) 692. The series ran from April through October. See The Cosmopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around
the World: Second Stage," 9:1 (May 1890), 51-61; The Cosjnopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around the
World: The Third Stage," 9:2 (June 1890), 173-184; The Cosmopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around the
World: Fourth Stage," 9:3 (July 1890), 272-284; The Cosmopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around the World:
Fifth Stage," 9:4 (August 1890), 401-413; The Cosmopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around the World: Sixth
Stage," 9:5 (September 1890), 533-545; The Cosmopolitan, "A Flying Trip Around the World: Last
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 83
Stage," 9:6 (October 1890), 666-577. She also published her memoir as a book, A Flying Trip Around
the World.
41 Ishbel Ross, Ladies of the Press: The Story of Women in Journalism by an Insider (New York: Harper
1936) 48. The page across from the title page featured a photo of Bly in her traveling costume.
42 Bisland, "First Stage," 693.
43 Bisland, "First Stage," 692-693.
""Verdery, 5770-5771.
45Frances E. Willard and Mary A. Livermore, American Women: 1500 Biographies, 1 ,400 portraits; A
Comprehensive Encyclopedia of American Women During the Nineteenth Century (Detroit, MI: Gale
Research, 1973 reprint, orig. printed in 1897) 86.
46 Elizabeth Bisland, "Notes and Comments: The Modern Woman and Marriage," The North
American Review 160 (June 1895) 755.
47 Surprisingly, Bisland's name does not appear in Notable American Women or other modern
biographical sources. However, her life receives lengthy consideration in the Library of Southern
Literature previously cited and standard paragraph-long mention in The Bibliophile Library of
Literature, Art and Rare Manuscripts: History, Biography, Science, Poetry, Drama, Travel, Adventure,
Fiction, Little-Known Literature from the Archives of Great Libraries of the World, compiled and
arranged by Nathan Haskell Dole, Forrest Morgan and Caroline Ticknor, New York: International
Bibliophile Society, 1904; Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modem, ed. Charles
Dudley Warner (New York: International Society, 1898) 61; Who Was Who Among North American
Authors, 1921-1939, 2 (K-Z) (Detroit: Gale, 1976) originally published by the Golden Syndicate, Los
Angeles. The Journalist also ran a photo and valentine profile of her, "Miss Elizabeth Bisland of The
Cosmopolitan Magazine," 30 November 1889, 2. The writer praised Bisland's beauty and talent but
spent about half of the article talking about The Cosmopolitan magazine as "really a competitor of the
Century, Harpers and Scribner's."
48 "Book Makers and Others," The Journalist, 10:17 , 1 1 January 1890, 6.
4'' Kroeger, Nellie Bly, 186.
5"Kroeger, Nellie Bly, 268-292.
51 Schilpp and Murphy, 146.
52 Kroeger, 509.
53 See Kroeger for information about Bly's death 507 and The Neiv York Times obituary for Bisland:
"Mrs. E. B. Wetmore, author, dies in South: Former Elizabeth Bijsland of this city' to be buried in
Woodlawn: 9 January 1929, 31:4.
54Kroeger, 507.
"Rittenhouse 107-108.
% Lea Ann Brown, "Elizabeth Cochrane (Nellie Bly)", Dictionary of Literary Biography 58.
Rittenhouse entitled his biography, The Amazing Nellie Bly.
57 Ross 48, 50.
"Frank Luther Mott, American Journalism: A History 1690-1960 (New York: MacMillan, 1972),
437. Also, see Edwin and Michael Emery, The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass
Media (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1984).
59 Jean Folkerts and Dwight L. Teeter, Voices of a Nation: A History of the Media in the United States
3rd ed.(New York: MacMillan, 1989) 268.
''"Bernard A. Weisberger, "Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman," Notable American Women, 1971, 254.
'''"Nellie Bly, Journalist Dies of Pneumonia, famous lor Rapid Trip Around the World and other
Daring Exploits," The New York Times, 28 January 1922, 13:4.
84 Kilmer* Spring 1999
"There Is Nothing in This
Profession . . . That a Woman
Cannot Do": Doris E. Fleischman
and the Beginnings of Public
Relations
by Susan Henry
Between 1913 and 1922, public relations began to be formed as a
profession, and the life of one of its previously unacknowledged pioneers —
Doris E. Fleischman — changed in remarkable ways. This article charts
Fleischman's early career as a publicist, fundraiser and newspaper reporter,
and then as the first employee hired by Edward E Bernays ivhen, in 1919, he
opened an office providing "publicity direction." It describes some of their key
early campaigns, the rapid development of and changes in their business, and
the increasingly productive collaboration betiveen them until 1922, when
Fleischman became an equal partner with Bernays in the firm of Edward L.
Bernays, Counsel on Public Relations.
When she graduated from Barnard College in spring 1913,
Doris E. Fleischman said, she was "shoved into the
ocean without having learned to swim."1 Although she
was a talented singer and athlete, she had never read a newspaper, knew
little about the world and felt "bewildered" when her father asked her
what she planned to do after graduation. At age 21, she knew she would
Susan Henry is a Professor of Journalism at California State University, Northridge.
Spring 1999 •American Journalism 85
"do something" but had no clear idea what that would be and no confi-
dence that she was prepared for any career at all.2
A decade later, she was excelling in a profession that had not been
invented when she graduated from college, leading a life that would have
been unimaginable to her at that earlier time. In September 1922 she
became an equal partner, with its founder, in one of the country's earliest
and most successful public relations agencies, having helped it first thrive
as a publicity service and then evolve into a public relations firm. She did
this with almost no public recognition, in contrast to the firm's founder,
Edward L. Bernays, who cultivated the limelight from the start and,
throughout his career, usually received sole credit for the agency's accom-
plishments. When he died in 1995, the headline of his New York Times
obituary labeled him the "father of public relations,"3 but his partnership
with Fleischman in the birth and development of the field has only
recently been acknowledged.4
This article looks at the beginnings of Fleischman's career and the
beginnings of the profession she helped form. It charts the work she and
Bernays did before they joined together, the growth of and changes in
their new agency, their development of public relations techniques that
were to become mainstays, and some of the reasons their early collabora-
tion was so successful. The scarcity of published information about how
early agencies operated (and the fact that the first years of this particular
firm have received only cursory attention) made it worthwhile to examine
some of Bernays' work in addition to Fleischman's. This gives context to
information about Fleischman as well as helping to provide a broad
picture of the nascent agency itself.
Thus, this study adds an understanding of public relations' early
years, a time that has not yet been well-documented, in part because the
behind-the-scenes nature of many of the activities carried out makes them
difficult to investigate. Similarly, although the advantages of collaboration
in today's public relations activities are widely understood, little is known
about the ways early collaborators worked together. This largely is due to
the still-further-behind-the-scenes interactions of collaborators, which
make researching them doubly problematic. And while the contributions
of many individual men to the development of public relations have been
at least generally sketched, women's early work rarely has been studied. A
male-female collaboration seems worthy of particular attention.
Fleischman was by far the most important of the field's women
pioneers, and this period is a significant one for understanding both her as
an individual and the patterns of what was to become her 62-year-long
86 Henry 'Spring 1999
collaboration with Bernays. Because their business was relatively simple
when it began and the bulk of her work was precisely defined, it is much
easier to identify her skills and responsibilities then than it is during the
remainder of their partnership, when their work essentially merged.
Separating out key components of her work at this time reveals what she
brought to the business from the start and how she helped it develop.
Several new findings also correct inaccurate claims repeatedly made by
Fleischman and Bernays about her activities before as well as after they
joined together.
From Little Direction to Publicity Direction: 1913 to 1919
Fleischman's life changed during the period of this study largely due
to fundamental career decisions made by her friend, Edward Bernays.
First, he almost accidentally became a theatrical press agent in 1913
when, while editing two small medical magazines, he also ingeniously
promoted a controversial play about syphilis, "Damaged Goods," which a
physician had praised in one of Bernays' magazines.5 He later explained
the effect of this experience: "I had had so much pleasure from what I
had done that I said to myself, 'This is what I want to do.' I became a
press agent."6
For the next five years he was a highly successful publicist for
Broadway plays, actors, musical performers such as Enrico Caruso, and —
during three years that he said "taught me more about life than I have
learned from politics, books, romance, marriage and fatherhood in the
years since" — Diaghilev's Ballet Russe. He described this work as "one
thrill after another" and loved what he did. Yet as exciting to him as the
glamour and sophistication of the performing arts world was his own
success. He had found his calling and quickly learned that he was very
good at it.7
In June 1918, he happily stopped this work to join the many
journalists, press agents and advertising people working for the US
Committee on Public Information (CPI). Headed by George Creel, this
huge propaganda operation was extraordinarily effective in building
nationwide public support for this country's World War I efforts and
spreading US government views to the rest of the world. Bernays worked
out of the New York office of the CPI Foreign Press Bureau until, when
the war ended in November, he went to Paris for the Versailles Peace
Conference as part of the official press mission.8
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 87
The CPI has been widely credited with vividly demonstrating the
power of organized, well-funded public opinion manipulation. The
general public increasingly became aware of this power, as did businesses
and other organizations, and many of the people who had worked for the
CPI were particularly struck by its effectiveness, Bernays among them.9
He also was affected by his experiences at the Peace Conference. "Paris
was swarming with ethnic entities that had been promised independence
in Wilson's Fourteen Points," he explained, and "I couldn't but observe
the tremendous emphasis the small nations of the world placed on public
opinion." Having "seen this world picture emphasizing the power of
words and ideas," he decided that when he returned to New York in
March 1919 he "would go into an activity that dealt with this force of
ideas to affect attitudes."10
Bernays' CPI connections soon resulted in contracts to do publicity
work for two organizations. On March 20, 1919, the Lithuanian National
Council hired him to help in its efforts to obtain US support for recogni-
tion of the country as an independent republic, and 10 weeks later he
began working with the US War Department on its campaign for the re-
employment of former servicemen. He initially operated just as he had as
a theatrical press agent^out of his clients' offices or his parents' home,
where he lived. But on July 28, 1919, he made a second career change
when he opened his own office. That same day, he hired Doris
Fleischman as a staff writer."
In 1919 Fleischman had much less to show for the preceding years
than did her new boss. After graduating from college in 1913, she appar-
ently worked as a fundraiser and publicist for a charity on New York's
lower east side.12 The next year, Bernays helped her get a job at the New
York Tribune, where she began as a women's page writer, then was pro-
moted to assistant women's page editor and assistant Sunday editor.
Sometimes writing as many as three long feature stories a week, she
interviewed many well-known people, traveled to San Francisco to report
on the Women's Peace Conference at the 1915 Panama- Pacific Interna-
tional Exposition, and claimed to be the first woman to cover a prize fight
for a major newspaper. Although she seems to have done well and greatly
enjoyed this work, she left the Tribune sometime in 1916.13
Exactly when and why she left remains a mystery. In interviews,
Bernays was very reluctant to acknowledge that she stopped working at
the newspaper before 1919, while in her own published and unpublished
writings and in interviews, Fleischman seldom admitted that she left
before this date. One friend from the 1970s with whom she sometimes
discussed her early career speculates that she left for family reasons.14
Henry* Spring 1999
Imprecise as it is, this interpretation makes sense and helps explain her
reticence in discussing this period of her life.
In 1916 she was living at home with her parents. Her mother,
Harriet Rosenthal Fleischman, was a pleasant, compliant woman — in
many ways a typical late- Victorian upper-middle-class wife and mother —
while her father, Samuel E. Fleischman, was a rigid, authoritarian man
who exerted firm control over his family. A prominent lawyer who was
conservative in most of his views, he nonetheless encouraged Doris to
attend a good college and then get a job when she graduated, but she did
not accept the offer from the Tribune until she had asked his permission
to do so. And, fearful that she would be hurt, he accompanied her when
she covered the prize fight. l5 Her father was by far the strongest force in
her life, and she certainly would have left the Tribune if that was what he
wanted.
Little more is known about her professional life following her
departure from the Tribune, but it is clear that it included freelance
publicity and fundraising jobs.16 One client for which she apparently did
considerable work was a hospital, the Spring Street Infirmary, which she
later called "a terrible place."'7 None of this work seems to have been very
satisfying, and it certainly was a step down from the Tribune. She must
have been delighted when Bernays offered her a full-time writing position
in July 1919.
Both Fleischman and Bernays consistently asserted that he hired her
directly away from the Tribune. This claim both obscures how she spent
the three years after she left the newspaper and neglects to recognize one
additional freelance job she held during this time. A careful examination
of the work Bernays carried out for both the Lithuanian National Council
and the War Department in spring and early summer 1919 reveals that
Fleischman wrote press releases for him before he opened his own office
and officially hired her.18
Certainly she was a logical choice. She was looking for freelance
work and Bernays had thought she was a talented writer since reading her
high school fiction. They had lived around the corner from each other (he
on West 106th Street, she on West 107th Street) since 1912. He had
helped her make the contacts that led to her Tribune job, and she had
gone with him to see "Damaged Goods" and other theatrical productions
he promoted.19 She also said that, during the time he edited the two
medical magazines, "I wrote reviews and stories for him for fun."20
At the same time, his work was extensive enough to require help. In
addition to organizing promotional events for the Lithuanian National
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 89
Courtesy of Susan Henry
Doris E. Fleischman and Edward L. Bernays, dressed for a night out, probably mid 1 920s.
90
Henry • Spring 1999
Council, he had agreed to produce six weekly press releases, which often
required extensive research. His War Department work was more sophisti-
cated and complex, involving the production of new programs, slogans
and large numbers of press releases. Because he had both clients' releases
typeset, bound into pads, and sent to newspapers and other publications,
he also had to work extensively with printers and mailers. And he was
quite well-paid, receiving $150 a week from the Lithuanian National
Council and $100 (plus a large expense budget) from the War Depart-
ment. So he certainly could afford to pay a freelancer.'1
By the end of July, he also realized he could afford to rent his own
three-room office on the fifth floor of an old building at 19 East 48th
Street. He calculated his first month's expenses for rent and furniture at
$1,357, and his first employee, Fleischman, was a bargain at $50 a week.
She quickly helped him hire a secretary, a mail clerk, an office boy and his
brother-in-law Murray C. Bernays, who was paid $75 a week to do
research and some writing.22
Fleischman later blamed herself for not asking for a higher salary
(she actually had requested $45), saying she knew little about money since
she lived at home and her father supported her. Her salary "was extra and
unimportant."23 That for three years she had had no full-time job, and
probably modest freelance income, also may have led her to give little
thought to her salary when she was offered this position.
(In fairness, it seems possible that she might not have asked for more
even if she had carefully considered her situation. A 1921 book about
professional women noted that salaries for "experienced publicity consult-
ants" were "around $50 a week, and are said to be about 10 per cent lower
than those for men."24 A 1920 book describing careers for women
quoted a "director of one publicity agency" as saying that women "free-
lance workers" could earn from $50-100 a week.25 When she left the
Tribune, Fleischman had been making $22 a week.26)
Bernays had struggled with what to call his new business, finally
settling on "Edward L. Bernays Publicity Direction." He hoped this
would differentiate him from press agents by indicating that he would
"direct actions of my client to get publicity and win public support."27
But much of his work during the rest of 1919 seems to have been little
different from his pre-war press agent activities in which he simply called
attention to his clients (albeit often cleverly). One reason for this may
have been that he had numerous theatrical clients. "I accepted these
assignments because I was not yet well enough established not to," he
explained.28
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 9 1
Other clients that year included the American Civil Liberties Union,
Best Foods Company (for which he helped launch a new salad oil), and
the Federation for the Support of Jewish Philanthropies (which was
conducting a large fundraising drive). The Lithuanian National Council
and War Department continued as clients through the summer.29 By the
end of December, Bernays had 10 employees and had earned about
$11,000.30
Publicity and "Aggressive Publishing"
His largest client during his first year in his new office, and the one
for whom he went on to work the longest, was the book publisher Boni
and Liveright. It is useful to examine portions of this campaign because
they typify key strategies Bernays and Fleischman were to use for many
years and show how well-developed these techniques were at the start of
their business. Specific contributions by Fleischman also can easily be
identified.
Fleischman seems to have played a role in obtaining this client, since
it was her much-adored older brother Leon who urged the firm's founder,
Horace Liveright, to hire Bernays. A poet and former newspaper reporter,
Leon had recently bought into the firm as a vice president and also served
as its secretary and treasurer.31 According to Bernays, Leon insisted that
Bernays "could give the firm and the authors an imaginative type of
publicity other publishers had not dreamed of using, that this would sell
books and upgrade the list of authors by attracting good new ones."32
Whatever his sister's role, the match was an excellent one. Liveright,
who hired Bernays in fall 1919, was a daring young publisher who was
willing to gamble on unknown authors and controversial books. He had
recently lured a few established authors like Theodore Dreiser to his firm,
but he also was anxious to publish works by the Greenwich Village
intellectuals who had been ignored by his rival publishers.33
"Other publishers deplored him, some envied him, and all had to
admire his list," according to book historian John Tebbel. "If Liveright did
not invent the literary renaissance of the '20s, he was at least its chief
conductor."34 And he was enthusiastic about shattering the old, staid
molds of book publishing as well as the musty conventions of bookselling.
He had, in Bernays' words, "faith in aggressive publishing." Bernays, in
turn, was "eager to try out our strategies and tactics on books." He
believed "books should respond more quickly to our techniques than
almost any other commodity."35
92 Henry • Spring 1999
During the year-long campaign, Bernays and Fleischman focused on
expanding the book-reading public beyond the narrow audiences previ-
ously identified by most publishers. They prepared an attractive supple-
mentary catalog highlighting the most important books — those that
would be discussed wherever "men and women, who are interested in life
and the books that express life, gather" — and bombarded 300 bookstores
with weekly circulars on different books. In addition to mailing out
constant short press releases, they sent 100 feature articles related to Boni
and Liveright books to newspapers throughout the country.36
In what Bernays said was an application of a technique used in his
government CPI work, these 1,000 to 1,500-word features were offered as
exclusives to one newspaper in a town.37 Editors first received brief
synopses of articles "prepared for your free publication by our Doris
Fleischman, who was until recently on the staff of the New York Tribune,
and by other experienced feature writers." They returned postcards
indicating the articles they wanted, which then were sent to them.38
A small number of books were singled out for special publicity
efforts. One was Christopher Morley and Bart Haley's satire on Prohibi-
tion, In the Sweet Dry and Dry. Copious feature stories and shorter releases
were supplemented by the creation of a booklovers tavern in New York's
Majestic Hotel, whose bar had been closed by Prohibition. Books by Boni
and Liveright authors replaced bottles behind the bar while some of these
authors, as well as the president of the New York County chapter of the
Women's Christian Temperance Union, were in attendance at its well-
covered opening. This was the beginning of a campaign to turn "corner
saloons" in 10 medium-sized towns into bookstores, and it also led to the
creation of an American Council for Wider Reading, devoted to stimulat-
ing more reading by Americans.39
This work is a good example of a frequently used technique that
Bernays variously labeled "the overt act," "created circumstances" and "the
created event." As he explained it in 1923, with such activities the public
relations practitioner "is not merely the purveyor of news; he is more
logically the creator of news."40 Working for Boni and Liveright, he said,
"I studied each book not as literature, but to find ideas that might be
emphasized to increase public interest in the volume. I then looked for a
current news idea that could be correlated with the ideas I had isolated.
Then I tried to dramatize these ideas."41
The campaign for Iron City by M. H. Hedges illustrates another
technique — the "segmental approach" — that Bernays and Fleischman
went on to repeatedly use. This strategy, Bernays explained, required the
practitioner to "subdivide the appeal of his subject and present it through
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 93
the widest possible variety of avenues to the public."42 Set on a college
campus, Iron City dealt with a wide range of issues that Fleischman
"subdivided" into features with titles such as "Can the College Woman
Love?", "The Insecure Tenure of the College Professor — How He Is Pried
Loose from His Job" and "Big Business and the American College — What
Will Happen When the Two Are Divorced?" One release even asked the
question, "Are the Children of College Parents Puny?"43
Other releases connected the book to current news events, including
fall 1919 strikes in the coal industry and a strike by professors at the
Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh (the book portrayed a professors' strike).
Author Hedges was asked to identify college professors who would be
willing to talk with newspaper reporters about issues raised in the novel,
letters extolling the book were sent to teachers unions, and attempts were
made to obtain cooperative publicity with the Stutz Motor Car Company
and Chicago's Marshall Field and Company (both prominently men-
tioned in the book).44
Another effective strategy was the association of specific books with
well-known people — whether or not they had any real connection to the
books. For example, to call attention to Adriana Spadoni's The Swing of
the Pendulum, a novel dealing with a professional woman and her lovers,
releases were prepared describing contemporary women activists like Alice
Duer Miller and Helen Rogers Reid. Similarly, anarchist writer Hutchins
Hapgood's novel, The Story of a Lover (written anonymously), was publi-
cized with quotes from movie stars like Mary Pickford and Lillian Gish,
who had supplied Fleischman with their definitions of love. Within six
months, 1 1 ,000 copies were sold.45
The Boni and Liveright campaign bears examination in part because
of its effects. Intellectual historian Ann Douglas said that it "made sellers
out of books that were not natural sellers" and proved it was possible to
"create market receptivity and revenue."46 Not everything they tried was
successful, and no doubt much of this steady stream of publicity was
ignored.47 But they did succeed in helping to expand the appeal of books,
and certainly excitement was generated for some Boni and Liveright titles
that otherwise would have received little attention. Horace Liveright must
have believed these kinds of actions were productive, for during the
remainder of the decade he went on to spend over a million dollars
promoting his books through public relations and advertising.48
More important, many other publishers began to adopt much more
dynamic sales techniques aimed at broader audiences, while new compa-
94 Henry • Spring 1999
nies publishing books for previously neglected markets were born.
Bookselling changed.4'' By the end of the decade, according to John
Tebbel, "Publishers were at last convinced of the value of promotion and
publicity, much more so than they had been before the war, and for the
first time they were willing to spend money on it."'0
"A Nose for News and a Steady Compulsion to Write"
Bernays later wrote, "My work with Liveright represented a divide
between what I had done — my press-agentry, publicity, publicity direc-
tion— and what I now attempted to do: counsel on public relations."51 In
1920 Fleischman played at least one significant role in this change when
she helped him coin the phrase "counsel on public relations" to describe
what they saw as a new role: "giving professional advice to our clients on
their public relationships, regardless of whether such advice resulted in
publicity."52 Bernays frequently credited Fleischman with being co-creator
of this new title, also noting that she earlier had helped him develop the
label "publicity direction" for the services he provided when he opened his
office in 19 19.53
She called on different talents in 1920 when the National Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Colored People hired Bernays to stage a
campaign for its Atlanta national convention, planned for late May and
early June. This was the first NAACP convention ever held in the South,
and the decision had been controversial among the organization's mem-
bers. The city had been the scene of fierce race riots in 1906, lynchings
and mob violence had increased since that time, and antagonism against
local NAACP chapters had grown in other areas of the South.54
Hurriedly brought in after the regular NAACP publicity person
became ill in early May, Bernays and Fleischman were largely ignorant
about the problems faced by African Americans, particularly in the South.
And because the convention would begin soon, they had to act quickly.
Their only instructions were to get extensive good publicity into southern
newspapers (most of which had previously shown little support for the
NAACP). Otherwise, they were on their own.55
Bernays stayed in New York to work with northern media and, a
week before the convention began, sent Fleischman by herself to Atlanta.
Since they knew little about the situation in the city, her job was essen-
tially to be an advance person — to "probe the territory from the stand-
point of public opinion" and also, Bernays said, "to make arrangements
for news coverage and to try to assure that some top Georgian political
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 95
figures would attend our meetings so that we could publicize the sanction
our cause was receiving in Atlanta by their presence."56
Bernays explained that one reason he gave Fleischman this assign-
ment was that he thought she would be able to avoid antagonizing the
individuals she was trying to persuade to take actions they no doubt
would have preferred not to take. He also believed the people she encoun-
tered would like her.57 And her innocence meant that "no one could
possibly mistake her for a propagandist for Civil Rights in the South."58
She first met with the city's mayor and the state's governor. Accord-
ing to Bernays, after the governor warned Fleischman that he thought
whites were likely to cause trouble, she asked him to put the National
Guard on reserve, which he did by phone as she sat in his office. Still,
neither he nor the mayor ultimately agreed to attend the convention (the
mayor did send an official welcome).59
She had more success when she next met with men at Atlanta's daily
newspapers and wire service bureaus. They all agreed to either cover
conference meetings or write reports based on news releases they received.
The Atlanta Constitution's city editor both consulted with Fleischman on
how to cover what was for him an unusual event and asked her to provide
stories on individual meetings and interviews with key participants. All of
these media went on to provide substantial positive coverage.60 According
to Fleischman, "Their calm and matter-of-fact handling helped to make
the community accept this invasion from the North quietly."61
Fleischman had received no NAACP briefing on the likely situation
in Atlanta and was, Bernays said, "oblivious to the dangers of her mis-
sion."62 Indeed, it was many years before she learned from NAACP
Assistant Secretary Walter White that she had been accompanied by four
bodyguards each time she left her hotel. Branded a "nigger lover" by some
whites, she also had failed to notice the men standing around the hotel
lobby who threw pennies at her feet to tell her they thought she was no
better than a prostitute who would sell herself for pennies.63
She did express her relief that the city had stayed calm in a news
release she prepared after the convention had ended. "Atlanta is breathing
easier now . . . and so are the delegates," she wrote. She quoted one
delegate as saying she couldn't wait to get home because "I feel as if I were
sitting on a volcano."64
Bernays met her in Atlanta during the week of the convention and
together they worked out a plan to guide their remaining work. After
deciding on a "publicity platform" stating three themes they would stress
in their releases, they set about "preparing copy for the newspapers under
96 Henry 'Spring 1999
constant deadlines. '6^ Mary White Ovington, the NAACP chairman of
the board who attended the conference, said that their technique "was to
make friends with the reporters and do all their work."66 They also
telegraphed numerous stories to New York and Chicago newspapers.67
Their efforts appear to have been successful. Ovington remarked
with surprise at "how fully and correctly the Atlanta Constitution reported
our meetings."68 Soon after the convention, the NAACP's Walter White
informed Bernays that "the amount of publicity secured, largely through
your efforts, was greater than at any other of the ten conferences preced-
ing, although all of these conferences were held in northern cities."69
Similarly, The Nation reported that this convention had received more
publicity than any held previously.70
The convention also had strong personal meaning for Fleischman.
When the meetings were over, she and Bernays met members of the
NAACP northern delegation at the Atlanta railroad station and she
insisted on joining the black delegates in the Jim Crow sleeping car for
the trip north, even though it was illegal.71 Forty years later, she said of
her Atlanta experience, "No work I have ever done has had so deep and
lasting an effect on me."72
Her work for other clients during this time was more routine, but
they did keep her very busy writing and placing stories. She described
herself during this time as having "a nose for news and a steady compul-
sion to write."73 A fast writer (and typist) with an exceptional vocabulary,
she also was an excellent editor. She often wrote between 1 5 and 20
stories a week, then took them to newspaper offices and worked to get
them placed. Bernays said she was good at placing because, if editors
wanted changes, she was able to quickly modify what she had written for
them.74
Clients added in 1920 and 1921 included several theatrical produc-
ers and performers, Good Housekeeping and Cosmopolitan magazines,
Cartier jewelers, the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, the Dort Motor Company, an
accounting firm, a clothing company, and the National Council of
American Importers and Traders.75 Their "first big business client," in
Bernays' words, was the U.S. Radium Corporation, which hired them in
1920 to promote radium's luminous properties for commercial use and its
application in cancer therapy. Fleischman's stories, which were distributed
in printed clip sheets for immediate use, had titles like "The Royal Jewel
of Today," "Radium Becoming a Household Aid" and "Radium Bank for
Those Who Bank on Radium."76 The latter story described a service their
client had established at their suggestion: a national radium bank, which
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 97
made radium accessible to physicians treating cancer patients (and called
attention to the element's medical value).77
In addition to doing extensive writing during this time, Fleischman
was the firm's office manager. From the start, Bernays said, she was "the
balance wheel of our operation."78 Thus she interviewed all job candi-
dates, set up schedules, charted the work being done for different clients,
kept the books and paid bills.79
One of the few surviving office memos between Fleischman and
Bernays from this time nicely illustrates some of her responsibilities.
Probably written in early 1921 when Fleischman planned to be briefly
absent, it brought Bernays up to date on their campaigns for four key
clients, left instructions for following up on specific tasks, explained the
work others in the office would carry out, and detailed payments received
and bills due. She said monthly vouchers had not yet been checked, but
"Please do not do anything about this until I get back, because I'm not
happy unless I do it myself."80 No wonder Bernays asserted that her work
"took the burden off me."81 She certainly knew much more about how
their office operated than he did.
Collaboration and a Changing Business
Fleischman likely took care of many of the details when in 1921
they moved from their three cramped rooms in an old building to newer,
larger, more attractive offices at a "prime address" next to the elegant Ritz-
Carlton Hotel on 46th Street and Fifth Avenue.82 With the move she
gained her own office, rather than sharing a crowded space outside of
Bernays' office with other staff members, as she had previously.83 Appar-
ently, though, their staff stayed the same size it had been in 1919, when
Bernays had 1 0 employees. 84
Their staff may not have increased but their income certainly had.
When they began, they tried to set their rates at a minimum of $75 a
week, but by the early 1920s they were earning between $12,000 and
$25,000 a year from most clients.85 They certainly were able to afford
nicer quarters, particularly since their business continued to expand.
Clients added in 1922 included Macy's department store, the Hotel
Association of New York (which hired them to publicize New York as a
friendly place to visit), the National Prosperity Bureau, the Venida
Hairnet Company, and numerous performers and event organizers.86
Occasionally, Fleischman was in charge of entire small campaigns.
For example, in January 1921 she planned, carried out all of the publicity
98 Henry • Spring 1999
Courtesy of Anne Bernays
Doris E. Fleischman, working at her desk in the firm of Edward L. Bernays, Counsel on
Public Relations, late 1910s or early 1920s.
for and worked closely with the organizers of two charity fundraisers.
(Her earlier fundraising work must have made these kinds of activities
very familiar to her.) The first event was a musical review presented by the
Cardiac Committee of the Public Education Association. The other, for
which she obtained excellent advance coverage, was a symphony concert
at Carnegie Hall to benefit the Babies Hospital of New York.87 All
surviving news releases for the latter activity are identified as "From Doris
E. Fleischman, 19 East 48th Street." They contain no reference to
Bernays.88
These are among the few examples of client contact that can be
found for Fleischman. Indeed, Bernays repeatedly maintained that she
never had client contacts.89 But it is clear that, particularly in the early
1920s, she did have at least a small number of such contacts.
For example, in 1922, she made the initial contact and then met
with the publisher of American Agriculturist to plan a campaign for his
weekly magazine. Her notes from the meeting show that, among other
things, she suggested ways of attracting more young readers through new
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism
99
kinds of stories and the formation of boys and girls clubs, proposed a
more scientific-sounding name for the magazine's testing department,
advised that more articles be run about new patents (since this might
encourage new advertising), and recommended that well-known public
officials be solicited for articles, which then could be widely distributed to
media organizations and interest groups.90
A year later, when she traveled to Europe by herself, she met with a
French colonial official to work out a plan for "tout le service de publicite
en vue d'une campagne de propaganda intensive, "which would promote US
tourism to North Africa.91 Since part of the purpose of her European trip
was to meet with business and government officials who could help the
firm, it seems likely that she made other client contacts there as well.
Much later, Bernays denied that she met with any clients on this trip
although that may simply be traced to faulty memory.92
There is no doubt, though, that her client contacts were limited.
This was despite her extensive knowledge of public relations tactics and
her demonstrated competence in working with people outside their
agency. In addition to having been the contact person for at least a few
small clients, she had worked successfully with New York newspaper
editors as a "placer" and had been persuasive with the Atlanta editors
making decisions about NAACP coverage.
She offered her own explanation for her lack of client contacts when
she wrote, "Many men resented having women tell them what to do in
their business. They resented having men tell them, too, but advice from a
woman was somewhat demeaning." She feared "if ideas were considered
first in terms of my sex, they might never get around to being judged on
their merits."93 Bernays closely echoed her explanation in his memoirs,
using similar words to explain why clients didn't meet with Fleischman.94
Yet in interviews he gave a more pragmatic reason. "If it had been
known I was linked up with a woman, I would have been considered an
imbecile or somebody strange." Indeed, he believed that if her involve-
ment had been known "when we started in 1919, it would have meant, I
am sure, that we wouldn't have had any clients at all."95 He also main-
tained that, since she was a woman, most clients would not have believed
her, so it made no sense for her to work directly with them. Rather, her
good ideas should be filtered through him so they would be accepted.96
Certainly she became more qualified to advise clients in the early
1920s as she spent less time writing and more time working with Bernays
on campaign strategies. "I decided early on that writing was the least
100 Henry • Spring 1999
important part of public relations," Bernays explained.9 He said that
about two years after they began, having realized that "actions spoke
louder than words," they "changed from thinking that announcements to
people were of value." As a result, Fleischman's writing skills became
much less vital than her ability to "originate and develop programs for
action." She thus wrote fewer and fewer news releases, Bernays said, since
"I found her brain was a much greater talent than her writing, because as
we moved along from that early period, we gave advice, and the advice is
what they paid us for."98
Bernays was not able to explain precisely when these changes
occurred and the written record is sketchy, but it does show Fleischman
continuing to write and place stories at least as late as 1922." Still, he was
adamant that, from the firm's beginnings in 1919, the two of them
developed campaigns together. As Bernays put it, "I had the advantage of
[Fleischman] having a mind that I thought was as good as mine that I
could always play with" in campaign development. After he met with
clients, the two often brainstormed together — suggesting alternatives,
identifying critical issues, speculating on outcomes, critiquing each other's
ideas, talking through strategies.100 No doubt one reason the agency could
increasingly offer advice was that Bernays had someone with whom to
collaborate in forming complex plans.
One additional change in 1922 can be much more precisely identi-
fied. On September 22, 1922, Fleischman and Bernays were married, and
shortly afterwards they signed legal documents making them equal
partners in the firm of Edward L. Bernays, Counsel on Public Rela-
tions.101 They both came to refer to their life and work together after this
time as their "24-hour-a-day partnership." It continued until Fleischman's
death in July 1980.
"The Best Move I Ever Made"
Forty years after beginning his new firm, Bernays looked back over
his career and wrote that hiring Fleischman in 1919 was "the best move I
ever made in my life."102 This article has shown some of the ways Bernays
benefited from that decision during his firm's beginnings and early growth
as well as the ways that decision changed Fleischman's own life.
In 1919 and 1920, when much of their work involved gaining
publicity for their clients through news releases, Bernays relied on
Fleischman to produce large numbers of them. She proved to be very
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 0 1
good at both writing and placing, and her ability to write diverse stories
even about narrow subjects helped them use the "segmental approach."
Her Tribune background also was used as a selling point in placing
national stories for Boni and Liveright, and probably in other campaigns
as well. Additionally, she freed Bernays from many practical day-to-day
concerns by serving as his office manager.
Her value increased as she learned from her work experiences and
they moved from doing "publicity direction" to the expanded "counsel on
public relations" — a phrase they coined collaboratively in 1920. Bernays
was an expert at publicity, but once he was moving beyond that, he
needed someone with whom he could talk through possible new ap-
proaches, especially someone who had excellent ideas of her own. Their
complementary abilities and personalities, evident from the beginning of
their work together, help explain the highly productive synergy of their
long collaboration.
They did differ significantly in their perceptions of their own
strengths and roles. Bernays quickly came to see himself as a scientist,
theoretician and philosopher. Anxious to apply techniques and ideas from
the behavioral and social sciences to public relations, he loved developing
principles, thinking broadly, intellectualizing. In interviews and his own
extensive writings, he pontificated at length about his theories, finding
meaning in them far beyond their immediate results.
Two public relations historians have aptly noted some of the most
conspicuous qualities of his mind and personality. Scott Cutlip described
Bernays as "a man who was bright, articulate to excess, and most of all, an
innovative thinker and philosopher of his vocation. "103 Stuart Ewen called
Bernays "the most important theorist of American public relations" and
relied heavily on his key 1920s publications to describe the field's under-
pinnings. Yet Ewen still noted the "customary bombast" of those writ-
ings.104
Fleischman, though, was devoid of bombast. In contrast to her
forceful, confident collaborator, she was modest and somewhat shy,
seeming to have little need for the approval or attention of others. At the
same time, she was far more organized and practical than Bernays (as
shown, in a simple example, by her work as their office manager). She was
able to help him translate his broad ideas into workable strategies and also
had a particular talent for anticipating how the public would react to
these strategies. ,0:>
102 Henry 'Spring 1999
An excellent listener and a quick, perceptive judge of people, she
had much stronger interpersonal skills than Bernays. People tended to like
her when they first met her, in part because they often found she under-
stood them and was sensitive to their needs.106 Daughter Anne Bernays,
who noted that her father often had trouble reading people accurately,
called Fleischman his "personal antennae forjudging people."107 He
admitted that "her insight and judgment are better than mine."108
Given these strengths, it seems very likely that she would have
contributed even more to the firm if her responsibilities had included
consistent client contacts. But these contacts were minimal in the early
years covered here, and by the end of the 1920s she apparently had none
at all.109 According to both Bernays and Fleischman, there was a simple
reason for this: Clients would have either refused to work with her or
disregarded her advice.
Yet this rationale contradicts what they said when they wrote about
women working in public relations, rather than about their own work.
Here, they expressed confidence that women could — and should — do
everything men did. Thus in the three pieces Fleischman published about
women public relations practitioners, she consistently described their
client contacts and never mentioned any circumstances under which they
shouldn't expect to have these contacts.110 Similarly, when he wrote a
chapter on public relations for inclusion in his 1927 book on careers,
Bernays asserted, "Theoretically, there is nothing in this profession that a
man can do that a woman cannot do." A woman, he said, "is limited
mainly by her personal ability to make the men she deals with realize that
she is as capable as if she were a man."111 And a decade later, in a co-
authored article on public relations careers, Fleischman and Bernays
together declared, "There is nothing in this profession that a man can do
that a woman cannot do."112
Clearly neither Fleischman nor Bernays believed other women
working in public relations should avoid client contacts, and it must have
been obvious that Fleischman was highly capable of carrying out such
contacts. Indeed, despite their denials that she ever worked directly with
clients, a few examples of her doing this can be found in the early 1920s.
It seems likely that other cases also exist for this period, although docu-
mentation has not survived. Why, then, did they maintain that she
neither had nor should have had these contacts? And why were the
contacts she did carry out so minimal in importance and number?
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 103
Bernays Reluctant to Share the Spotlight
Their daughter Anne offered a forthright answer: "He didn't want
her to get the credit."113 It also is a persuasive answer. Bernays was an
exceedingly strong, assertive, dynamic person who loved his work and
loved being recognized for it. His early background in theatrical publicity
no doubt was an influence here. It is hard to believe that, if he could
avoid doing so, he would have willingly shared credit for their work.
Sharing credit with a woman at a time when professional women were not
widely accepted was even more problematic.
The invisibility of Fleischman's role also was advantageous to
Bernays because it helped him do something that he said was a priority in
the early 1920s: "Make the word 'Bernays' stand for advice on public
relations."1'4 He very consciously promoted not only his clients but
himself, while even as he was selling himself, he was selling the new field
of public relations. As he put it, "Public relations would become a con-
tinuing free client."115 He carried out two of his most significant early
efforts to bring visibility and respectability to this free client (and himself)
in 1923. In February, he began teaching the first university course on
public relations (at New York University). And later that year, his Crystal-
lizing Public Opinion — this country's first book on public relations — was
published by Boni and Liveright. (Bernays orchestrated its elaborate
promotional campaign.)116
Business historian Alan R. Raucher succinctly described Bernays as
"an aggressively self-confident man, as sure about the social value of
public relations work as he was about his own contribution to that
field. ""7 This description helps capture his own stake in being identi-
fied— as often as possible — as a major figure in the profession and in
holding a position that would let him mold the field. There is no doubt
that Fleischman helped him gain this influence, work successfully with
clients and, when he was writing Crystallizing Public Opinion, form its
ideas."8 On a few occasions when he was unavailable, she even (very
nervously) taught his New York University course.119 But he was not
about to give up the attention, authority and credit he received from
client contacts by sharing them, as he no doubt would have had to do if
his partner had been a man.
One significant finding of this article is that the patterns that were
to characterize their partnership after their marriage were evident in 1919
and firmly established by the time they married in 1922. From the start,
Fleischman brought much-needed writing skills to the business. Soon
afterwards, she began collaborating with Bernays in developing strategies
104 Henry • Spring 1999
and even naming their new profession. Then for six decades, Bernays
admitted, her work was as vital to their business as his own, and she did
everything he did except have client contacts. But, thanks to her public
invisibility and his own prodigious talents for self-promotion, he was the
focus of the frequent attention he made sure the firm attracted, receiving
virtually all of the credit for its achievements. He benefited from their
partnership in ways that were more than practical.120
Fleischman's rewards also were substantial, if more straightforward,
and they are clarified by this examination of her early years with Bernays.
Most important, she gained a career, and a chance to grow and succeed in
it to an extraordinary degree. Although she had earlier been an accom-
plished newspaperwoman, she seems to have had little career direction and
few firm options at the time Bernays hired her. She could not have
anticipated that she would obtain the kind of rewarding, challenging,
exciting position her job quickly became. In the beginning, Bernays taught
her a great deal even as he took full advantage of her abilities. Most clients
may not have known about or appreciated her work and talents, but he
certainly did. She felt valued, and must have delighted in seeing measur-
able results of her work in their growing revenues and list of clients.
A close look at these early years also helps explain why, during the
rest of her life, she consistently deferred to him in both their business and
their marriage. In 1919 Bernays was Fleischman's boss. He had envisioned
the new business that was to suit her skills so well, while it was his
reputation — based on his initial remarkable success in theatrical public-
ity— that attracted many early clients. He offered her a good job, he
determined the work she would do, he was her teacher. He also was
supremely self-confident. It makes sense that he dominated their relation-
ship at the start, while this early dominance is part of the reason why, 30
years later, she still maintained: "Eddie's word is final and he casts the
deciding vote in our partnership. I have elected him Chairman of the
Board and Executive President in our personal life and ... in our public
relations office."121
Looking back, she also pondered her lack of client contacts, saying
that when she first joined with Bernays in 1919, "I decided that I would
not try to compete with men because the hurdles were too great." Yet she
admitted, "I surrendered without having seen an enemy. I wonder if I
would try to avoid all conflict with men if I were to begin today."122
These wistful words also might apply to her continuing personal and
professional relationship with Bernays.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 05
Still, she must always have thought she owed him a gteat deal. Fot,
despite her 1913 fears of the ocean, she learned to swim exceedingly well
and found the water far more agreeable than it had appeared when she
graduated from college. It did not seem to matter greatly to her that she
swam in the wake of a much more visible, powerful swimmer, since
without him, she might well have sunk. And without her as his collabora-
tor, he certainly would made a far less spectacular and enduring splash in
this new profession.
Susan Henry thanks Rodger Streitmatter for his unflagging encour-
agement and good ideas during the many years of this research on Doris E.
Fleischman, and for his superb Washington, DC, accommodations, which
made it possible to collect much of the data for this article.
Endnotes
'Doris Fleischman Bernays, "Plus Ca Change, Plus C'Est La Meme Chose," Phantasm, Sept. -Oct.
1977, 3.
TJoris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women (New York: Crown Publishers, 1955), 167-68.
3"Edward Bernays, 'Father of Public Relations' and Leader in Opinion Making, Dies at 103," New
York Times, 10 March 1995, A12.
4The only published scholarly works on Fleischman have appeared within the past two years: Susan
Henry, "Anonymous in Her Own Name: Public Relations Pioneer Doris E. Fleischman," Journalism
History 23 (Summer 1997): 50-62, and Susan Henry, "Dissonant Notes of a Retiring Feminist: Doris
E. Fleischman's Later Years," Journal of Public Relations Research 10 (Winter 1998): 1-33.
The 1 997 article is a very compressed biography of Fleischman, broadly covering all of her life. As a
result, occasional duplication can be found in the information and analysis in it and in this American
Journalism piece. The 1998 article looks at Fleischman during the three decades before her death in
1980.
Fleischman also is discussed sporadically in the recent (and only) biography of Bernays, Larry Tye,
The Father of Spin: Edward L. Bernays and the Birth of Public Relations (New York: Crown Publishers,
1998). Despite having had access to much of this author's research, though, Tye says only a little
about Fleischman's professional contributions to the firm and, in his many descriptions of individual
campaigns, presents them as the work or Bernays alone. Fleischman most often is portrayed as a
victim — a dramatic device to call attention to Bernays' failings. Tye's book also contains very little
information about the public relations work Bernays and Fleischman carried out during the time
period covered in this article.
5 Edward L. Bernays, Biography of An Idea: Memoirs of Public Relations Counsel Edward L. Bernays
(New York: Simon and Schuster, 1965), 49-62.
'Transcript of Edward L. Bernays oral history (1971), Oral History Research Office, Columbia
University, New York, N.Y., 448.
7Bernays describes these early years at length in Biography of An Idea, 62-1 52. The quotes are on
pages 102 and 75.
"Ibid, 155-78. For a good description of the work of the CPI, see Stuart Ewen, PR' A Social History
of Spin (New York: Basic Books, 1996), 102-27.
''See, for example, Ewen, 126-33; Scott Cutlip, The Unseen Power: Public Relations. A History
(Hillsdale, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1994), 105-06; Alan R. Raucher, Public Relations and
106 Henry • Spring 1999
Business, 1900-1929 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1968), 73-74; Richard S. Tedlow, Keeping
the Corporate Image: Public Relations and Business., 1900-1950 (Greenwich, Conn.: JAI Press, 1979),
40-41.
"'Bernays oral history transcript, 60-62.
"Ibid, 61-66; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 187-94. Specific dates are from a chronology of his
activities prepared by Bernays in box 1:498, Edward L. Bernays Papers, Library of Congress,
Washington, D.C. (hereafter LC).
'-In her published and unpublished wrirings, Fleischman never mentioned any jobs she held before
1914. She always began describing her employment history by discussing her 1914 New York Tribune
work. In interviews with this author, though, Bernays said her first job was doing fundraising and
publicity for a "charity" devoted to "taking care of women." But he said he told her "she could learn
nothing there," encouraged her to enter journalism, and introduced her to a reporter at the New York
Telegram, who helped her get her job at the Tribune. See interviews with Edward L. Bernays,
26 March 1988, and 29 March 1988, Cambridge, Mass.
"It is exceedingly difficult to clearly chart the details of Fleischmans professional work before she
was hired by Bernays. In most interviews and in their own writings, both Fleischman and Bernays
maintained that she worked at the Tribune between 1914 and 1919, when she left to join Bernays.
(Occasionally, she said she had started at the Tribune in 1913, soon after graduating from Barnard.)
But her donated clippings files contain no Tribune articles with her byline before 1 November 1914;
the last is dated 19 March 1916. See carton 1, file 2, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger
Library on the History of Women, Cambridge, Mass. (hereafter Schlesinger Library). (Although it
does not contain all that Fleischman wrote for the Tribune, this file does give a good sense of how
productive she was during some weeks. )
Stronger evidence that she left the Tribune in 1916 is found in the brief biographies she (or
Bernays) wrote to accompany her chapters in two books each of them edited in the 1920s. Both
sources describe her as working at the Tribune from 1914 to 1916. See Doris E. Fleischman, ed.,
Careers for Women: A Practical Guide to Opportunity for Women in American Business (New York:
Doubleday, Doran & Company, 1928), 384, and Edward L. Bernays, ed., An Outline of Careers: A
Practical Guide to Achievement by Thirty-Eight Eminent Americans (New York: Doubleday, Doran &
Company, 1927), opposite page 423.
Fleischman describes her Tribune work in Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 167-
69, and in unused notes for A Wife Is Many Women, carton 1, file 33, Doris Fleischman Bernays
Papers, Schlesinger Library. Her press pass for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition is in box
1:3, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
'"Telephone interview with Camille Roman, 20 November 1995.
"Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 26 May 1986, Cambridge, Mass; Doris Fleischman Bernays, A
Wife Is Many Women, 167-68; Doris Fleischman Bernays, "Plus Ca Change, Plus C'Est La Meme
Chose," 3; Doris E. Fleischman, "Woman at the Lightweight Championship," New York Tribune, 14
March 1915.
"Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988, Cambridge, Mass. A small amount of
material related to this work is in addenda, file 1, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger
Library.
'Audiotape of interview with Doris Fleischman Bernays by MaryAnn Yodelis, July 1973,
Cambridge, Mass. A few documents about the New York Dispensary are in addenda, file 1, Doris
Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger Library.
18 Fleischmans byline appears on articles about Lithuania and the servicemen's re-employment
campaign published by newspapers in April, June and July-all before Bernays opened his office. See
clippings in box III: 3, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and addenda, file 1, Doris Fleischman Bernays
Papers, Schlesinger Library.
'''Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 169; "Doris and I" (a section in Bernays' notes
for Biography of An Idea), 1-4, box 1:462, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
:"Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 170.
2lBernays, Biography of An Idea, 188-92; "Finding My Way" (a section in Bernays' notes for
Biography of An Idea), 1-22, box 1:461, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC; Edward L. Bernays oral history
transcript, 61-66.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 07
"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 193-94; interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 October 1989,
Cambridge, Mass. Murray Bernays, born Murray Cohen, married Bernays' sister Hella in 1917.
Shortly afterwards, he had his name legally changed to Murray C. Bernays to keep his wife's family
name alive, since Edward, her only brother, had said he would never marry. Murray Bernays was
divorced from Hella in 1924 but kept her last name. See "Murray Bernays, Lawyer, Dead; Set
Nuremberg Trials Format," New York Times undated clipping, box 111:6, Edward L. Bernays Papers,
LC.
23Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 38.
'"•Elizabeth Kemper Adams, Wome?t Professional Workers (New York: The Macmillan Company,
1921), 307.
"Catherine Filene, ed., Careers for Women (Cambridge, Mass.: Riverside Press, 1920; repr., New
York: Arno Press, 1974), 19.
26Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 38.
27Bernays oral history transcript, 72.
'"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 195.
29Bernays describes some of his clients during this time in Biography of An Idea, 194-99. Also see
chronology, box I: 498, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and receipt from H.P. Inman of the
Lithuanian National Council for work done by Bernays, 19 August 1919, box 111:6, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
3"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 1 99.
"Walker Gilmer, Horace Liveright: Publisher of the Twenties (New York: David Lewis, 1970), 19;
"Liveright" (a section in Bernays' notes for Biography of An Idea), 1-2, box 1:458, Edward L. Bernays
Papers, LC.
32"Liveright," 1.
33Gilmer, Horace Liveright: Publisher of the Twenties (New York: David Lewis, 1970), 10-20.
"John Tebbel, A History of Book Publishing in the United States, vol. Ill (New York: R.R. Bowker
Company, 1978), 136, 138.
35Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 277-78.
3r'Ibid, 284; "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign" (a section in Bernays' notes
for Biography of An Idea), 8-11, box 1:457, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC; the quote, taken from the
foreword to the First Supplementary Catalog, is on p. 11.
37"Liveright," 17.
3tlLetter from Edward L. Bernays to the feature editor of the Detroit Free Press, 13 November 1919,
box 1:120, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 280-81; "Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity
Campaign," 21-26, 37-39.
4"Edward L. Bernays, Crystallizing Public Opinion (New York: Boni & Liveright, 1923; repr., New
York: Liveright Publishing Corporation, 1961), 195.
4,"Liveright," 10-11.
4Tbid, 137.
43"Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 12-15; Bernays, Biography of An
Idea, 282. Some of these releases are in box 1:120, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
44"Boni and Liveright-Book Publishers-Publicity Campaign," 14-20.
45Ibid, 74-75; Gilmer, 26, 63; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 282-83.
46Ann Douglas, Terrible Honesty: Mongrel Manhattan in the 1920s (New York: Farrar, Straus and
Giroux, 1995), 68.
47Bernays admitted, for example, that although the Majestic Hotel's "booklovers tavern" received
extensive coverage in New York newspapers, In the Sweet Dry and Dry y/ as not mentioned in any
articles. See "Liveright," 16-17.
48Gilmer, 90. A large in-house advertising staff apparently took over all further promotional
activities during the rest of the 1920s.
^'Douglas, 67-71; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 286.
1 08 Henry • Spring 1 999
"Tebbel, 335-36.
"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 287.
"Ibid, 288.
5,See, for example: ibid; Edward L. Bernays, Public Relations (Norman: University of Oklahoma
Press, 1952), 78-79; Edward L. Bernays, "Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel: Principles and
Recollections," Business History Review 45 (Autumn 1971): 301-02; interview with Edward L.
Bernays, 28 May 1986, Cambridge, Mass;
'"Charles Flint Kellogg, NAACP: A History of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People, vol. 1 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1967), 137, 245-46; Mary White Ovington, The
Walls Came Tumbling Down (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1947; repr., New York: Arno
Press, 1969), 177.
"Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 208-1 1; "The NAACP- 1920" (a section in Bernays' notes for
Biography_pfAn Idea), 1-16, box 1:459, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
wThe NAACP-1920," 17.
'"Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988.
'""National Association for the Advancement of Colored People" (a section in Bernays' notes for
Biography of An Idea), 3, box 1:459, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
""The NAACP-1920," 19-20; Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 211-13; Bernays oral history
transcript, 236;
'"'Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 212-14; "The NAACP-1920," 20-22, 32-39.
'''Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 170.
'•-"The NAACP-1920," 18.
'''Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 211.
''"Quoted in "The NAACP-1920," 39.
"Ibid, 25A-27, 29.
''''Ovington, 178.
'' "The NAACP-1920," 35-37; "National Association for the Advancement of Colored People," 4,
11,18
''"Ovington, 178.
'"'Walter White to Mr. E. L. Bernays, July 13, 1920, box 111:6, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
'"According to Bernays in "The NAACP-1920," 53.
'Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 215.
7:Doris Fleischman Bernays, transcript of a speech to the Radcliffe Club, 31 January 1961, 1 1,
carton 1, file 39, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers, Schlesinger Library.
7,Ibid, 11.
'"Interviews with Edward L. Bernays, 31 March 1988, and 28 May 1986, Cambridge, Mass;
interview with Anne Bernays, 27 May 1986, Cambridge, Mass.
"Scattered information on clients for these years can be found in the alphabetically arranged client
files, boxes 1:56-421, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and in Bernays, Biography of An Idea± 187-252.
7''Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 188. The release titled "Radium Becoming a Household Aid" is in
box III: 3, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
77Bernays, Public Relations, 8 1 .
7"Bernays, "The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel," 301.
"Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988; "Doris and I," (a section in Bernays' notes for
Biography of An Idea), 7, box 1:461, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
""Undated (probably February 1921) memo from Doris E. Fleischman to Edward L. Bernays, box
1:4, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
"'Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988.
":Bernays oral history transcript, 99.
"'Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 28 May 1986.
Spring 1999 •American Journalism 109
84 Although Bernays wrote very specifically about his 1919 staff and facilities, lie had little to say
about his later offices, so they cannot be described in the same kind of detail. The best evidence of the
size of his 1921 office is in a memo dated 9 January 1923, which is addressed to 10 employees. See
"Memorandum to Organization from E.L.B. and J.M.T. [J. Mitchel Thorsen]," box 1:5, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC. Significantly, one person listed on that memo — Kathleen Goldsmith — was a
writer.
"Edward L. Bernays, Your Future in Public Relations (New York: Richards Rosen Press, 1961), 142.
Also see the report on work for the Dort Motor Company, which shows that they were paid $600 for
four weeks' work. ("Dort Motor Company, Inc." [a section in Bernays' notes for Biography of An
Idea], box 1:458, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.)
"''See client files, boxes 1:56-421, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC, and Bernays, Biography of An Idea,
205-52.
s7"Junior League of the Cardiac Committee of the Public Education Association" and "Babies
Hospital Benefit-1921," (sections in Bernays' notes for Biography of An Idea), box 1:461, Edward L.
Bernays Papers, LC.
8SSee box 1:105, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
"''Bernays was adamant about this whenever it came up in several interviews with this author.
Similarly, in his memoirs, he wrote that Fleischman "has done everything in public relations, except
get into the direct client relationships." (Biography of Ah Idea, 220.)
In her own published work, Fleischman was vague about client contacts, only hinting that she met
with some clients in early years. (See A Wife Is Many Women, 171.) Her unused notes for this book are
more explicit. An outline listing some of the advantages and disadvantages of working with her
husband includes the statement: "I made contacts before marriage, but not after." (Doris Fleischman
Bernays Papers, carton 1, file 19, Schlesinger Library.) But in every interview with her this author has
located, she denied ever having had any contacts at any time.
'"'Doris E. Fleischman to Henry Morganthau, Jr., 9 May 1922; Henry Morganthau, Jr., to Doris E.
Fleischman, 10 May 1922, and Fleischman's follow-up-notes from their May 12 meeting, box II: 1,
Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
'"[First Name Illegible] Saint-Charbin to Mademoiselle Fleischman, 30 June 1923, box III: 2,
Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC. (My thanks to Elizabeth Burt for the translation from the French.)
'^Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988.
''•'Doris Fleischman Bernays, v4 Wife Is Many Women, 171.
'"''Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 221.
'^Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 26 October 1989, Cambridge, Mass.
'""'Interviews with Edward L. Bernays, 28 May 1986 and 29 March 1988, Cambridge, Mass.
'^Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 26 May 1986.
'"Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 29 March 1988.
''""Memorandum to Organization from E.L.B. and J.M.T.," probably written in 1922, discusses the
need for Fleischman to be free at set times during the week to meet with Bernays to discuss clients. It
also refers to the need to hire new people to take over "a portion of the stories and releases Miss
Fleischman is now burdened with." Additionally, an 28 April 1922, invoice itemizes costs related to
production of one news release, listing the charge for "Miss Fleischman placing story" as $25.00. See
box 1:4, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
lOOInterview with Edward L. Bernays, 26 May 1986. (Bernays discussed their extensive collabora-
tion throughout their partnership in many interviews with this author. In this one, he explicitly stated
that they strategized together from the start.)
""Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 24 May 1986.
'"-Bernays, "The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel," 301.
""Cutlip, 169.
'""Ewen, 163 and 170.
'"'Interviews with Doris Bernays, 27 May 1986, Cambridge, Mass., Anne Bernays, 27 October
1989, Cambridge, Mass., and Edward L. Bernays, 29 May 1988.
"'Tbid.
1 JO Hcnty • Spring 1 999
"'•Interview with Anne Bemays, 18 October 1995, Cambridge, Mass.
'""Bernays interview with Scott Cutlip, 12 March 1959, quoted in Cutlip, 169.
'"''See footnote 89 above.
""Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations," in Doris E. Fleischman, ed.,An Outline of Careers for
Women, 385-95; Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations: A New Field for Women," Independent
Woman, Feb. 1931, 58-59, 86; Doris E. Fleischman, "Keys to a Public Relations Career," Independent
Woman, Nov. 1 94 1 , 332-33, 340.
'"Edward L. Bernays, "Public Relations," in Edward L. Bernays, ed.,An Outline of Careers, 296.
"JEdward L. Bernays and Doris E. Fleischman, "Public Relations as a Career," Occupations. The
Vocational Guidance Magazine, Nov. 1937, 133.
'"Interview with Anne Bernays, 27 October 1989.
"''Interview with Edward L. Bernays, 28 May 1986.
"'Bernays, Biography of An Idea, 289.
"'Tedlow, 42-44. The original course descriprion is in box 1:462, Edward L. Bernays Papers, LC.
Tedlow describes the final exam on p. 54, f72. Bernays' salary for teaching the course was $200;
student tuition was $20.
"7Raucher, 103.
"sIn his 1971 oral history (transcript, p. 77) Bernays calls Crystallizing Public Opinion "our first
book." Two secondary sources also refer to Fleischman's involvement in conceptualizing this book:
Cutlip, 178, and Eric F. Goldman, Two-Way Street: The Emergence of the Public Relations Counsel
(Boston: Bellman Publishing Company, 1948), 18. But these assertions of her contributions seem to
be based more on the authors' assumptions than on explicit statements from Bernays. My own
conclusion, based on knowledge of their relationship in 1921 and 1922, is that they discussed much
that went into the book as he wrote it, and that she helped a great deal in forming its key ideas.
"Audiotape of Doris Fleischman Bernays interview with MaryAnn Yodelis.
l2"For a detailed description of their "24-hour-a-day partnership" following their 1922 marriage, see
Henry, "Anonymous in Her Own Name: Public Relations Pioneer Doris E. Fleischman," 54-60.
'-'Doris Fleischman Bernays, A Wife Is Many Women, 167.
l::Unused notes (or A Wife Is Many Women, carton 1, file 25, Doris Fleischman Bernays Papers,
Schlesinger Library.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 1
Spring 1999
112
Great Ideas
Rethinking Objectivity in
Journalism and History: What Can
We Learn from Feminist Theory
and Practice?
By Carolyn Kitch
Over the past several years, panels on objectivity — an
ongoing series of debates over whether or not journalists
can achieve this goal — have become common offerings on
conference programs, just as they make for lively classroom discussions.
This theme also underlies the practice and teaching of "public journal-
ism," a professional model in which the role of journalists moves away
from detached objectivity and toward an acknowledgment of involvement
in the stories they cover. Such debates are almost always spirited, fre-
quently controversial, and rarely conclusive.
This essay is an expanded version of my own comments on objectiv-
ity panels at both the Association for Journalism and Mass Communica-
tion (AEJMC) and American Journalism Historians Association (AJHA)
1998 conferences, in which I explained how reading feminist theory in a
variety of scholarly disciplines has helped me to think critically about
objectivity in my own work, as a journalist, a historian of journalism, and
a journalism educator. These thoughts draw not only on disciplines
outside journalism, but also on the work of female scholars in our own
field, among them Catherine Covert, Brenda Dervin, and Linda Steiner,
who have suggested that feminist theory and the history of women's
experience are useful lenses through which to re-evaluate our understand-
ing of the journalistic present and past.1 The essay deals to a great extent
with journalism today, yet it also is about history in two senses: it consid-
Carolyn Kitch is an Assistant Professor at the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern
University.
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 3
ers the ways in which, throughout the American past, some female
journalists have rejected the rhetoric of objectivity; and, in a broader
sense, it discusses ideals that govern the practice of historical research as
well as the practice of journalism.
At the start, I'd like to clarify my goal in offering these thoughts.
After the AJHA session, one audience member expressed concern that I
had painted a dichotomous picture of both gender and objectivity
suggesting, essentially, that women are subjective and therefore good for
journalism, while men are objective and therefore bad for journalism.
This was not my intention at all. My exploration of this subject has been
prompted by the fact that I do research on gender; in other words, I have
gained a new perspective, which I bring to the classroom as well as to my
research because of the specific nature of the scholarly literature in my
own subfield.
Yet my thoughts on objectivity in both journalism and history are
not exclusively feminist (or feminine).2 This essay suggests not that
objectivity itself is gendered, but rather that the work of some women — as
journalists and as scholars — offers interesting ways for anyone to think
about professional ideals. It further explores how debates about objectivity
taking place in other fields, including the mainstream of the history
discipline, can inform our own continuing discussions in journalism
scholarship.
Objectivity Defined As Presence and Proximity
Traditional definitions of objectivity turn on metaphors of physical
presence and promixity, of the literal positioning of oneself with regard to
"the facts." According to professional standards, as they are usually taught
in journalism schools, an objective journalist is unbiased, neutral, impar-
tial, detached, balanced and invisible. (While this essay is primarily about
journalism, it is worth noting that the ideal method of historical research
is discussed in much the same terms.) These attributes characterize
objective inquiry and lead to the revelation of "the news," which itself
exists somewhere in a realm of its own, outside or beyond our own lives.
This model for professional practice was neatly summed up by television
journalist Daniel Schorr who, in his book Clearing the Air, described his
work this way: "I remained the untouched observer, seeing the whole
picture because I was not in the picture. The notion of being the invisible
stranger always appealed to me."3
1 1 4 Great Ideas • Spring 1 999
These kinds of words characterized my own journalism education
and the mainstream of professional practice during the years I worked in
the magazine business. Even though I worked in a field (women's maga-
zines) that routinely challenged the notion of objectivity, I did not think
critically about the central ideals of journalism until I began to do schol-
arly research that required me to read widely in interdisciplinary feminist
theory. This time in my career happened to coincide with the beginning
of debate about objectivity within both the journalism profession and
journalism scholarship. What struck me about the reading I was doing
was that, while it came from seemingly unrelated fields, the professional
ideals these writers challenged were articulated in the very rhetoric of
journalism.
In history, I read Joan Scott, one of the first scholars to question the
definition of history as "that knowledge of the past arrived at through
disinterested, impartial investigation and available to anyone who has
mastered the requisite scientific procedures. "4 I also read Bonnie Smith,
who rejects the historical trajectory of great men, institutions, and events,
noting that in this story there is no place for women and women's lives —
which do not "fit professional historical procedures and categories."5
In literature, I read Jane Tompkins, who laments the idea that the
only professionally-legitimate subjects through which she might make a
contribution to "knowledge" in her field are "impersonal" ones and must
be discussed in an "authoritative language [that] speaks as though the
other person weren't there."6 In law, I read Carol Smart and Kathleen
Lahey, who contend that law as a "method to establish the truth" gener-
ates a discourse of "reasonableness" that silences dissent and diminishes
the legitimacy of alternative views that differ from precedent.7
In sociology, I read Dorothy Smith, who notes that "although
sociological inquiry is necessarily a social relation, we have learned to
dissociate our own part in it. We recover only the object of our knowledge
as if it stood all by itself." In fact, she argues, "The only way of knowing a
socially constructed world is knowing it from within. We can never stand
outside .... Even to be a stranger is to enter a world constituted from
within as strange."8
In science, I read Sandra Harding, who writes that "value-free
objectivity . . . requires a notion of the self as a fortress that must be
defended against polluting influences . . . .The self whose mind would
perfectly reflect the world must create and constantly police the borders of
a gulf, a no-man's-land, between himself as the subject and the object of
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 5
his research. . . "9 And I read Donna Harraway, who argues for a new kind
of scientific standard based on "positioned rationality," not "the view from
above, but the joining of partial views. . . into collective subject position
that promises a view. . . from somewhere."10
I realized that all of these scholars are concerned with two aspects of
professionalism that are also at the heart of debate about journalistic and
historical objectivity: what subject matter is considered professional, and
what role the researcher/ reporter plays in how those subjects are researched
and written about. I also was intrigued by how closely these scholars
examined the professional language of their fields. Their analyses helped
me think about the language of journalism.
Analyzing the Language of Journalism
Chief among the spatial metaphors we use to talk about journalistic
objectivity are two seemingly contradictory ideas: journalists position
ourselves as being outside the news while also situating ourselves at its
center. The very word "media" suggests a central position, just as television
journalists "anchor" the news. Yet key to this notion of being at the center
of the news is the assumption that we have no actual contact with it —
almost as if we were in the eye of a storm swirling around us.
Though this removal is psychological, it is described as physical. We
speak of maintaining a professional "distance" from our sources and the
events we write about. The word dis-tance suggests that we have no stance,
no opinion on the news. Instead, we are "neutral" (a word that means
"without color"). In the same breath that we talk about getting the "inside
scoop," we position ourselves as non-participants in the story; we remain
"unbiased" (not slanted in one direction or another). Our coverage is
"balanced," the fulcrum point between two "sides" of the story. We are
without an agenda, and thus, presumably, without agency. We avoid
writing in the first person, using what Virginia Woolf called "the T that
casts a shadow across the page."11
In these ways, we are simultaneously inside and outside the story. Yet
sometimes we are above it, as Schorr implied in claiming to "see the whole
picture." A similar perspective is invoked when we say that we "cover"
stories. We see them from overhead, and, like a bird, we see the entire
picture, which is not clear to the actors mired in the details and passions of
the event itself down below. Even when we admit our presence at a news
event, we say that we are on rather than in the scene.
Of course, all of this language, and journalists' claims of detachment,
are frequently undermined by the realities of professional practice. It is
1 1 6 Great Ideas • Spring 1 999
impossible to be the invisible stranger when we arrive with news trucks
and lights and cameras and when we appear on videotape quite literally in
the picture. Yet even in print journalism, there are consistent departures
from our detachment ideals, and, ironically, some of these departures are
among the most celebrated aspects of journalism. One is the claim of
"eyewitness" status, a process of reporting from one's own literal perspec-
tive. Another is "literary journalism" (which shaped practice in the early
1900s as well as the 1960s), the use of narrative techniques to provide
interpretation and meaning. A third example is the most venerated form of
journalism, investigative reporting, an active rather than reactive practice
in which reporters "wwcover " scandal, thus creating rather than merely
covering news that is out there happening all by itself without our help.
The Rhetoric of Objectivity in Journalism History
I've been better able to understand these contradictions in journal-
ism from my readings of other scholars who are struggling to understand
the rhetoric of objectivity in their fields. It so happens that they are
feminist scholars. Actually, any scholars in their fields could have come up
with a similar critique of objectivity, just as one doesn't have to be female
to think about the rhetoric of journalistic objectivity. So why focus on the
writings of women? Because they have been at the forefront of debates
about objectivity. "Objective" knowledge across disciplines has frequently
left out women, women's experiences, and women's interests entirely.
Consequently, many scholars interested in women's lives have questioned
the usefulness of objectivity.
So too have some female journalists questioned the nature, content,
and voice of "objective" news throughout the American past. A look back
at their work illustrates not only a women's perspective on journalism, but
also the long history of tensions over the norms of journalistic practice.
During the mid- 19th century, newspaper writers such as Fanny Fern and
Jenny Croly wrote about "women's" (social rather than political) topics,
and often wrote with "empathy" or "sentiment" (subjectively).12 In 1896,
in a speech titled "How to Make a Newspaper Interesting," 23-year-old
reporter Willa Cather told the women's division of the Nebraska Press
Association that good journalism "must go beyond the dishing-out of
facts" and instead offer personal commentary'3 In the 1940s, syndicated
newspaper columnist Dorothy Thompson referred to her work as "alto-
gether female," meaning that she spoke her mind and didn't hide her
identity.14 Documenting the fraying American social fabric of the 1970s,
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 7
Joan Didion redefined what people and places were "newsworthy" and, in
magazine articles, recorded her own reactions to the scenes she encoun-
tered.15 Not all of these journalists thought of themselves as "women
writers," yet all wrote subjectively, connecting with their subjects as well
as their readers.
For more than 1 50 years, subjectivity has been the editorial founda-
tion of women's magazines, from Godey's Lady's Book to Ms., and this may
be one reason for their journalistic marginalization. Their common use of
first person and the overt connection their editors make with readers
(these magazines are nearly a conversation: there is definitely someone on
the other end) remove their content from the realm of objectivity, as does
their subject matter — relationships, parenting, health, and other service
material — which is rarely considered "news" or "real journalism."
Yet in other contemporary settings, some female journalists have
been taken more seriously when they've rejected the rhetoric of objectiv-
ity. Yunghi Kim, a female photojournalist who has won international
honors and has been a Pulitzer finalist for her depiction of poverty in
Africa, believes that her success is due in large part to the fact that she
empathizes with the people she photographs: "There has to be a bonding
with my subjects," she says. Another female journalist did Win the Pulitzer
Prize when she put herself into the story. When she began working for
The New York Times in the 1970s, Anna Quindlen believed "that I was
meant to be hidden from the reader, a byline without a face, a voyeur
without a point of view."" She later changed her mind and wrote her
prize-winning, highly-personal "Life in the 30s" column, which cast a
mother's life — her own life — as journalism.
The Other Side of the Mirror
Quindlen uses the metaphor of a one-way mirror, through which the
examiners can see the examined, but not the other way around, to describe
the journalistic objectivity she found less and less useful. She writes: "I
slipped to the other side of the mirror. It was an odd thing to do. Even I
disapproved of it somewhat. I grew up holding a third person to my chest,
like a shield, having no political party affiliation, no public persona, no
expressed opinions. Suddenly I dropped the pretense, and week after week
I said things that third persons do not say." The fact that she won the
Pulitzer Prize for doing so raises the interesting notion that subjectivity
may not only be not a bad thing; it might actually be a good thing.
1 1 8 Great Ideas • Spring 1 999
When I was doing women's studies coursework during my doctoral
studies, I was struggling through the writing of an essay that asked the
same question we tend to ask at our conferences and in our classrooms:
Can journalists really be objective? A fellow graduate student, who was an
anthropologist and a filmmaker, read a draft of this work and offered a
margin comment that I (being, after all, a journalist) found astounding at
the time. She wrote: "Maybe the question isn't whether 'objective truth' is
or is not possible. Maybe the question is: Why is the concept of a 'subjec-
tive truth' devalued? Why is it associated with lack of truth?'"'
Scientist Sandra Harding, whom I quoted earlier in this essay, makes
a similar point. She advocates what she calls "strong objectivity," a
methodology that is informed, rather than tainted, by the researcher's
acknowledgment of his or her point of view. This is otherwise known as
standpoint epistemology, the theme of the most recent work I've read by a
feminist scholar on this subject in our field, an article in the May 1998
Communication Theory in which Meenakshi Gigi Durham calls for new
journalistic standards requiring reporters to "summon a critical, reflective
consciousness as part of reporting." In this view, incorporating one's own
bias becomes part of professional method.
Durham's theoretical critique echoes the debates underway in other
disciplines; it is also remarkably similar to Quindlen's description of her
work for The New York Times. None of the writers whose work I've
discussed in this essay has suggested abandoning professional ethics. Yet
they all envision a reformulation of the goal of objectivity into one of
accountability, a model for practice that turns on metaphors of connec-
tion rather than detachment, of visibility rather than invisibility. And the
journalists among them have done so for some time — suggesting that
what we think of as a modern debate may in fact be a historical one. They
ask us, as my classmate did, to consider the value of "subjective truth."
They call for our willingness to see our own shadow on the page. As
journalists and as scholars, we might consider, and encourage our students
to imagine, how that shadow shapes both news and history.
Endnotes
1. Catherine L. Covert, "Journalism History and Women's Experience: A Problem in Conceptual
Change," Journalism History 8, no. 1 (Spring 1981), 2-6; Brenda Dervin, "The Potential Contribu-
tion of Feminist Scholarship to the Field of Communication ," Journal of Communication 37, no. 4
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 9
(Autumn 1987), 107-121; Linda Steiner, "Feminist Theorizing and Communication Ethics,"
Communication 12 (1989), 157-173. Covert suggested a reconsideration of historical time in light of
women's life experiences. Dervin notes that feminist scholarship offers a model of work that is "self-
reflexive about the relationship and responsibility of the researcher to the researched" (109), while
Steiner considers the usefulness of feminist theory in re-evaluating journalism ethics, including what
she called "the 'objectification' of mass media 'subjects'" (169).
2. Nor, clearly, is the critical analysis of objectivity solely a feminist enterprise. Many of the
questions I raise here have previously been raised by male scholars who have taken a historical view
(and on whose work I also draw) including Michael Schudson, Origins of the Ideal of Objectivity in the
Professions (New York: Garland, 1990); Jay Rosen, Getting the Connections Right: Public Journalism and
the Troubles in the Press (New York: Twentieth Century Fund Press, 1996); and David T Z. Mindich,
Just the Facts: How "Objectivity" Came to Define American journalism (New York: New York University
Press, 1998).
3. Daniel Schorr, Clearing the Air (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1977), viii.
4. Joan Wallach Scott, "Women's History," in American Feminist Thought at Century's End, ed.
Linda S. Kaufman (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1993), 238-39.
5. Bonnie G. Smith, "Gender, Objectivity, and the Rise of Scientific History," in Objectivity and Its
Other, ed. Wolfgang Natter, Theodore R. Schatzki, and John Paul Jones III (New York and London:
Guilford Press, 1995), 64.
6. Jane Tompkins, "Me and My Shadow," in The Intimate Critique: Autobiographical literary
Criticism, ed. Diane P. Freedman, Olivia Frey, and Frances Murphy Zauhar (Durham: Duke
University Press, 1993), 31.
7. Carol Smart, Feminism and the Power of Law (New York: Routledge, 1989), 10; Kathleen A.
Lahey, "Reasonable Women and the Law," in At the Boundaries of Law: Feminism and Legal Theory,
ed. Martha Albertson Fineman and Nancy Sweet Thomdsen (New York: Routledge, 1991), 5.
8. Dorothy E. Smith, The Conceptual Practices of Power: A Feminist Sociology of Knowledge (Boston:
Northeastern University Press, 1990), 22-23.
9. Sandra Harding, Whose Science? Whose Knowledge? Thinking from Women's Lives (Ithaca, NY:
Cornell University Press, 1991), 158.
10. Donna J. Haraway, "Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege
of Partial Perspective," in Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: The Reinvention of Nature (New York:
Routledge, 1991), 196.
11. Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1929), 103.
12. Among a number of sources that recount the careers of Fern and Croly is Maurine Beasley and
Sheila Gibbons, Taking their Place: A Documentary History of Women and Journalism (Washington,
DC: American University Press, 1993).
13. Bernice Slote, ed., The Kingdom of Art: Willa Cather's First Principles and Critical Statements,
1839-1902 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1966), 27, based on accounts of the speech in the
Nebraska State Journal (31 January and 1 February 1896) and the Beatrice [NE] Weekly Express (6
February 1896).
14. Quoted in Anna Quindlen, Thinking Out Loud: On the Personal the Political, the Public and the
Private (New York: Random House, 1993), xvii, xxvii.
15. Many of these articles, which originally appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, Esquire, Life,
Vogue, and other magazines, are collected in The White Album (New York: Pocket Books, 1979) and
Slouching Towards Bethlehem (New York: Pocket Books, 1981).
16. Quoted in Sherry Ricchiardi, "Getting the Picture," American Journalism Review (January/
February 1998), 29.
17. Quindlen, Thinking Out Loud, xix.
18. Anna Quindlen, "Life in the 30's," The New York Times (1 December 1988), CI.
19. This comment was made by Francesca Soans of Temple University during the
spring of 1996.
20. Harding, Whose Science?, 16 1.
21. Meenakshi Gigi Durham, "On the Relevance of Standpoint Epistemology to the
Practice of Journalism: The Case for 'Strong Objectivity,"' Communication Theory 8, no. 2 (May
1998), 133.
1 20 Great Ideas • Spring 1 999
Book Reviews
In this issue, we are returning to our roots to take a long look at some
recent publications in journalism history. As always, the field is enriched with
a treasure ofinew goods including a fine study of the suffragist movement and
the press, memories of an editor who worked on Fleet Street in London, the
tale of the Binghams of the Louisville, Kentucky, press family, a collection of
dispatches issued during the Russian Revolution, a study of the relationship of
the French press and the US Civil War,, a fine study of the Fombstone,
Arizona, wild west journal The Epitaph and a look at Hollyivood betiveen
1918 and 1939. Of course, we will open with the editors choice, a book that
pays homage and respect to media historians by a journalist with a creative
bent relating to one of the most significant events in early 20th Century
America.
> David R. Spencer, Book Review Editor
/ Editor's Choice
Big Trouble
By J. Anthony Lukas, New York, N.Y.: Touchstone Books, 1998, 875 pp.
When I first picked up a copy of J. Anthony Lukas' Big Frouble at
the Pittsburgh Airport, I did not think at the time that the work would be
one which I would want to bring to the attention of media scholars. After
all, this heavyweight, 875 page volume is the history of the murder trials
of three western miners' union leaders in early 20th century Idaho. So,
what do Big Bill Haywood, Charles Moyer and George Pettibone have in
common with the press? Plenty, it turns out. But before launching into
Lukas' interesting perspectives on Gilded Age media, a summary of the
book's contents are in order.
Fundamentally, the book tells the story of the murder of retired
Idaho Governor Frank Steunenberg at Christmastime in 1905.
Steunenberg had presided over one of the most difficult periods of Idaho
history when miners in the Coeur d'Alene region rebelled violently
against the autocratic rule of the area's mine owners. Although his loyalties
were never clear, miners thought that the Governor was the agent of the
owners. And of course, the owners were unhappy with Steunenberg over
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 121
what they felt were fairly lenient approaches to the miners. Then, some-
one planted a bomb at the ex-Governor's gate, sending him into eternity
and igniting a class struggle for the heart of America which eventually
superseded the intensity of the Haymarket Affair and its aftermath.
I can say with sincerity that Anthony Lukas is a gifted writer. This
book puts to bed the concept that only professional scholars can research
and write meaningful history. Lukas has the touch that made William L.
Shirer's many writings so vivid, so colorful and so exciting. As we know,
Shirer's German memoirs of Adolf Hitler in The Rise and Fall of the Third
Reich were treated with a disdain bordering on contempt by leading
members of the Northeastern historical establishment who implied that
such a work by an amateur must be filled with errors and conjecture.
After all, Shirer was a journalist, not a historian.
Lukas begins his tale by taking us to the scene of the activity. He
paints a vivid picture of life in Caldwell, Idaho, the home town of Frank
Steunenberg. One by one, the major characters in the ex-Governor's
political and business careers begin to appear, each given sufficient space
that the reader begins to think he/she will eventually know these people
on a familiar if not intimate basis. After "coloring" life in Idaho, Lukas
takes us to rough and ready Denver, Colorado, where the Western
Federation of Miners, under its bombastic leader Big Bill Haywood, is
headquartered. It is here that the story begins to unfold with Haywood
and his cronies pitted not only against the government of Colorado and
the mine owners but a man who is referred to throughout the text as "The
Great Detective," Pinkerton agent James McParlan. McParlan had
become a legend in his own time for his work in infiltrating the Molly
Maguires in Pennsylvania some years previous. It is McParlan who
succeeds in orchestrating the abduction of Haywood, Moyer and
Pettibone who are spirited by rail from Denver to Boise throughout the
night to an uncertain fate in front of a jury.
So why should this book mean something to journalism historians?
For one, Lukas uses newspapers as sources to define many of the lesser
known but critical factors in the case. But more significantly, he devotes
55 pages titled "Gentlemen of the Press" to discuss the behaviour of the
journalism community at Haywood's trial. The chapter is gripping, as is
much of Lukas' dialogue. It is here that we see the pursuit of story, the
commercialization of the press and the implications of what it means to
have a press war take place thousands of miles from the scene of the
action. Lukas lines up the characters on two sides of an imaginary line,
those journalists who favor Haywood and write for his acquittal and those
122 Book Reviews • Spring 1999
who seem to be in the back pockets of the mine owners and their friends
in the political establishment who are advocating conviction and execu-
tion. In one instance, he tells the tale of how a group of leading reporters
for metropolitan dailies get access to Harry Orchard, a convicted criminal
and the leading state witness against Haywood while the socialist papers,
in particular Julius Augustus Wayland's The Appeal to Reason are not
invited to share the moment. Lukas notes that the newspaper reporters are
seated in the courtroom by their specific approach to the trial. Those
sympathetic to conviction are given the best seats and the best facilities
while those writing in favor of the accused are shuffled off to the back of
the courtroom.
This is in reality a book about characters. Throughout its pages, we
are introduced to Ethel Barrymore, baseball great Walter Johnson,
Theodore Roosevelt, railroad entrepreneur E. H. Harriman, William
Allen White, Eugene Debs and of course Haywood's defense attorney
Clarence Darrow. This is both one of the book's major strengths, but also
one of its weaknesses. There were many times when the Haywood story
took a back seat to what the author must have considered enriching
information. Without significant powers of concentration, it is highly
likely that the reader could get lost in what seemed to be a multiplicity of
sub-plots and diversions.
Reading this book takes work. It is best to digest it in small pieces. It
is very dense, almost a complete lesson in American history in the com-
pact period between Haywood's arrest and his acquittal. Yet, it is worth
the effort. It is a finely crafted piece not only of scholarship but of
journalism. Its 57 pages of notes in what appears to be six point Times
Roman type speak to the work that Lukas put into researching and
writing this story. He notes that the murder "sets ofTa struggle for the Soul
of America" in a time period when the threat of class warfare was looming
on the horizon of a society in the creation process. It is not often that we get
this kind of intense contribution by a journalist who speaks to journalism
history as a major player in a major event. Let us hope we get more.
> David R. Spencer, University of Western Ontario
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 123
Dispatches From The Revolution: Russia 1916-1918
By Morgan Philips Price & Tania Rose, (eds.), Durham, NC: Duke
University Press, 1998. 175 pp.
It is hard to imagine how anyone could have been more qualified to
cover the Russian Revolution than Morgan Philips Price. When he
became the Manchester Guardians special correspondent to Russia in
1914, he was 29 years old, had traveled extensively throughout Russia
since he was 25, and spoke fluent Russian. He stayed in Russia through
1918, writing for the Guardian even after his dispatches had stopped
appearing by demand of the British censors. When he could no longer
depend on money from Britain, he took a job as a translator for the
revolutionary government. At the end of 1918, he moved to Berlin,
where he served as correspondent for the Daily Herald until he returned
to Britain in 1923.
His coverage of, and later participation in, the revolution caused a
great change in Price. When he first went to Russia, it was as a capitalist,
representing his family's timber business. By the time he left, he was
firmly convinced that the world's salvation lay in the rise of the working
classes to dominate governments. As his political views changed near the
end of the revolution, he even began writing propaganda pamphlets for
the revolutionary government. This gradual change in attitude is reflected
in his dispatches, and adds complexity to a fascinating view of one of the
most critical events in history.
In his foreword to the book, Eric Hobsbawm points out that Price's
writings about the Russian revolution have been largely forgotten, and
that this book, edited by Price's daughter, Tania Rose, "is an extraordinar-
ily valuable compilation of Price's published and unpublished writings
about the Russian Revolution, many of them hitherto virtually or entirely
inaccessible." The purpose of the book, however, is not entirely clear. It
does, in fact, include many unpublished letters, but much of the most
critical content is reprinted from his previous books and newspaper
accounts.
On the other hand, the book could not stand alone as a comprehen-
sive history of the Russian Revolution, but is most valuable as contextual
material for people already familiar with events of the period. It is, rather,
like a series of snapshots. Rose, recognizing the need for more historic
information, provides introductory essays to each chapter, an epilogue,
biographical notes, and explanatory notes and references. These elements
do provide historical context, but unfortunately they also tend to make
124 Book Reviews • Spring 1 999
for a lot of paging back and forth. The difference in writing style between
Rose's connecting sections, Price's articles, his formal letters, and his
informal notes and postcards adds to the problem. One result of this
disjointedness is that concepts are sometimes introduced and either never
pursued, or followed up so much later that the original reference has been
forgotten.
The notes and index are generally quite good, and add to the book's
usefulness as a reference work, but are not without gaps. For example,
Rose, in her introduction, refers to Arthur Ransome and John Reed, two
other correspondents in Russia during the time Price was there. The
biographical notes include helpful background information about Reed,
but Ransome is excluded. Rose's writing in the introduction, historical
sections in each chapter, and epilogue is functional, solid and businesslike,
but not very exciting. Price's writing is varied, sometimes a bit workman-
like, but more often quite colorful and evocative. Not surprisingly, he is at
his weakest when compiling factual information from the Russian press to
keep his British audience appraised about political and economic events
in Russia. It doesn't help non-British readers that he sometimes likens
these events to British situations of the time. For example, to explain a
particularly complex political point, he says, "A similar situation would be
created in England if the Conservatives and Liberal Imperialists ceased to
exist and the Radicals and the Labour Parry were defending the national
idea of British democracy against the Independent Labour Party and the
British Socialist Party, standing for the dictatorship of the Trade Union
Congress and the international Parliament of labour." Oh, right!
When giving eyewitness accounts, however, his writing is much
more expressive, as in his description of Kerensky's rebuttal of Lenin: "He
paused and walked slowly across the platform towards the corner where
the group surrounding Lenin sat. Not a sound was heard in the great hall,
and we waited spellbound for the next sentence. 'I will not be the dictator
that you are trying to make,' and so saying he turned his back scornfully
upon Lenin, while the assembled delegates thundered their applause." It is
when Price leaves the city, however, to travel throughout the Asian
provinces and give the common peoples' reactions to the revolution, that
his work really shines. For 20 pages in the middle of the book, he evokes a
picture of the people — their situations and their surroundings — so
compelling as to draw readers in completely. It is in this section that it
becomes clear just how different the situations were for the various
groups, from the peasants of the northern Volga region who lived under
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 25
such tyrannical rule of the landlords that they couldn't kill them and
divide up their land quickly enough, to the Cossacks of the East who
already held their land communally, even redistributing it every 25 years.
Despite a few inherent shortcomings, Dispatches from the Revolution
is a fascinating insider's look at events surrounding the Russian Revolu-
tion. It provides insights on some aspects of the period that might not be
available through other means. In discussing the effect of World War I on
the revolution, for example, Price says: "The war and the desire to end it
is the one thing that links the confused social mass together in this third
stage of the Revolution, and as soon as there is peace it will break up into
its component parts and create new combinations and coalitions for the
political struggle in the fourth stage."
Price offers political insights informed both by the fact that he
was — for the most part — an objective observer, while, concurrently more
knowledgeable about the situations of the various groups than almost
anyone else at the time. It was this dual role that allowed him, for ex-
ample, to say about the Moslems in Turkestan: "Needless to say, they are
quite unaffected by the programme of the Russian Socialist Revolutionary
Party. 'Land and Liberty' has no meaning for them. No one in Turkestan
wants land because it is all desert. But everyone wants water, and no party
has come forward promising 'Water and Liberty' because the water in
Turkestan depends not on the political situation in Petrograd but on the
snowfall in the Pamir plateau. "This book offers a perspective on the
Russian Revolution that only a person such as Price — and he may have
been unique in the situation, a foreign journalist living as a Russian
during the revolution — to see the reality of the situation in terms such as:
"Let it be remembered that we are dealing here with 180 million people
covering the greater part of two continents, in which the industrial system
of Western Europe has only just begun to exist. Now three years of war
has simply destroyed this tender plant and has reduced the country to the
economic state of Europe in the Middle Ages. This is indeed a fact."
>Roy E. Blackwood, Bemidji State University
Fleet Street Around the Clock
By Gordon Allan, London, England: The Alpha Press, 1998, 75 pp.
As Gordon Allan asserts in the preface, "This is the story, different
in detail, but no different in kind from many others, of one provincial
126 Book Reviews • Spring 1999
who came to Fleet Street when it was Fleet Street ..." But this brief
memoir is also about "Newspaper life before laptops replaced typewriters
and hot metal now relegated to the past . . . the days when Fleet Street —
the real Fleet Street — was the goal of every young journalist with . . .
ambition . . . [and] . . . the sense of learning the craft of writing for a
newspaper was paramount."
Allan was one of these aspiring young men in post- World War II
Britain who entered journalism directly from secondary school (in Allan's
case, the Aberdeen Grammar School) and who, after an apprenticeship on
two Scottish newspapers, migrated to London. In the metropolis, his
career in Fleet Street was spent mostly on The Times before the
"Thunderer" left "The Street of Ink" for Wapping in the resuscitated East
London. Working mostly as a sub-editor (often laboring in exhausting
night shifts) and stints as a sports reporter and columnist, Allan was able
to observe and know prominent newspapermen and editors. He provides
some very perceptive thumbnail sketches of these worthies. Equally
important are his accounts of the year-long closure of The Times in 1979
and, as ordered by the newspaper mogul, Rupert Murdoch, the overnight
move of the paper from Gray's Inn Road to Wapping.
Always interested in creative writing as a youth, Allan primed
himself for a career in journalism by studying the Kemsley Manual of
Journalism and Whitaker's Almanack and began work as a low ranker on
the Aberdeen Evening Express, the Press and Journal, and the Weekly
Journal. His first job in London was in the Daily Telegraph's sub-editors
room, which was not a "happy office", especially under the irascible Brian
Roberts and his successor, the dreadful, ruthlessly ambitious Peter
Eastwood. As Allan wryly notes of these notorious Fleet Street ogres,
Roberts and Eastwood had charming sides, but that was forgotten when the
other side was so objectionable. Under Eastwood, "the harassed sub-editors
were forced to waste much time going back over previous work to correct
alleged mistakes and contravention of style pounced on by Eastwood." As
Allan notes, ". . . it is a miracle the paper ever came out . . . ." After a year
of this tyranny, Allan left the Telegraph for a year of work on the Edinburgh
Scotsman in the early 1960s, but he returned to London to work briefly
with the Press Association and Reuters before joining The Times in 1965 as
sports sub-editor and occasional columnist and here he remained until
retirement and work as a free-lancer.
In these reminiscences, Allan also provides some interesting portraits
of that accomplished Times Sports Editor, John Hennessy, and the gifted
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 27
team of sports correspondents he had assembled who made The Times.
one of the best British papers on sports news. Another one of Allan's great
heroes is the renowned doyen of cricket writers and music critics, Neville
Cardus. And, of course, there is Allan's appreciation of Louis Heren, the
son of a Times printer, brought up in the rough East End, who spent a
lifetime in the service of The Times rising from messenger boy to star
foreign correspondent and Deputy Editor. He died a disappointed man
because the Editorship which would have crowned his life's work, eluded
him because of his plebeian background and, no doubt, his lack of
Oxbridge credentials.
One of Allan's most interesting accounts is his work as a "stone sub"
— the sub-editor who remains behind, after every one has gone, to work
with the notoriously rough and independent-minded printers on page
changes for later editions of the paper. He also endured industrial mal-
practice and unofficial strikes in the production and clerical departments
which led to the year long closure of The Times and the move to Wapping.
According to Allan, the move and Rupert Murdoch's proprietorship did
not make the paper better.
Allan also has some interesting things to say about novels based on
the Fleet Street experience and what they depict of the reality of journal-
ists and their work in London. Thus, while some deem Philip Gibbs'
Street of Adventure (1909) as probably having persuaded more young men
to take up journalism as a career than any other book of the same genre,
Allan rates Alphonse Courlander's Mightier than the Sword (1912) as far
better than Gibbs' work because it views a journalist's life and career in
terms of tragedy rather than romance. Courlander knew his subject well,
as a result of his long work on the Daily Express under the legendary
editor, R. D. Blumenfeld, and as the paper's ace Paris correspondent. But
despite Courlander's view of Fleet Street, Allan is convinced that newspa-
per life does not seem to lend itself to fiction, and when journalists do
appear in novels "they are usually cliche characters, unhappily married
and potential alcoholics
Allan concludes his discursive memoir with some pessimistic
observations on present day journalism, such as the "death" of the news-
paper essayist, "killed by the hysterical desire of modern journalists to be
topical on all subjects and at any cost." Yet, with (and despite) all of its
innovations, Allan is convinced that The Times is [still] "the paper that . . .
does . . . things best."
>J. O. Baylen (Emeritus), Eastbourne, England
128 Book Reviews • Spring 1999
French Newspapers' Opinion on the American Civil War
By George M. Blackburn, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1997, 176 pp.
In this book, George M. Blackburn confirms an assertion that
historians of Europe in the 1860s have made convincingly for decades:
the French, like other Europeans, were fascinated by the causes and
contours of the American Civil War, and followed with great interest the
events of the conflict. In France, a considerable amount of journalists' ink
was spilled in covering the War Between the States, a fact that reveals
much about French ideology and statesmen in the age of the Second
Empire (1852-71), when executive authority outweighed democratic
voice. " [Politically aware Frenchmen perceived the American Civil War
as an acid test of the legitimacy and viability of democratic institutions
not only in America, but also in France."
Blackburn approaches French attitudes through an examination of
war coverage in 75 newspapers, Parisian and provincial. In their treat-
ments, the issue of slavery was not the decisive factor: all French newspa-
pers seemed clearly to denounce the practice. The most important
division between newspapers, the author asserts, was ideological: conser-
vative editors and writers (Legitimists, pro-Bourbon Catholics, and
supporters of Napoleon III) decried the War as bald northern aggression
and an assault on constitutional right and social order; liberal editors and
writers (Orleanists, liberal Catholics, and republicans) viewed the conflict
as a just war for democracy, individual freedom and economic liberalism.
This depiction of 1860s French political thinking is not new; several
antecedent studies have long identified these patterns. The novel assertion
in Blackburn's work is that contemporary newspapers serve as a reliable
index to those views. Previously dismissed by scholars as "unfree," venal,
and inordinately coloured by domestic political ramifications, French
newspapers contained instead genuine reflections of their editors' and
writers' views, and the consistency of their treatments of the War attest to
this fact. Blackburn traces conservative and liberal editorial coverage of
the War chronologically in eight chapters from the 1 860 American
election, through the Trent Affair (1861), the Cotton Crisis (1862-3),
French overtures in mediation (1862-3), and the consequences of the
war's conclusion.
The book's argument is generally credible: French newspapers did
reflect the discourse in French politics generated by the American Civil
War. Even so, this book contains several faults that, put together, reduce
the overall impact that this book will have in the study of foreign views of
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 129
the Civil War and in journalism history. Blackburn's book fails to establish
the significance of French newspaper opinion on the Civil War, either as it
related to the United States, or as it related to France. Ultimately, one
wonders: did French views matter much to American combatants? (and
relatedly, if not, why has this volume been placed in a series entitled
"Contributions in American History"?) Perhaps more pointedly, did the
War effect any long-term change in French political culture? Extending
the analysis to the mid- 1870s, or beyond, might have afforded the author
the opportunity to make a broader and more meaningful assessment. As a
result, the book's conclusion seems obtuse.
In terms of method, Blackburn's examination does not seem to
differentiate between types of newspaper coverage. Did differences in
format — editorial versus routine news coverage — matter qualitatively?
Finally, most lacking in this analysis is a sense of the personalities involved
in newsmaking, normally one of the most colorful and influential aspects
of journalism history. Notably absent in Blackburn's treatment of French
journalism is a sense of the characters of editors and writers. If the press,
as the author argues, was demonstrably free, who exercised this liberty and
in what ways were their personal judgments and characters reflected in
their journalism? Blackburn's book makes a contribution to the history of
mid- 19th century journalism, but one ultimately that falls short of its
potential to illuminate fully the role of French newspapers as a medium
connecting the Civil War's "discussion" about republican liberty and
French political culture.
>Andrew C. Holman, Bridgewater State College
Rampant Women Suffragists and the Right of Assembly
By Linda Lumsden, Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1997, 273 pp.
In her introduction, Linda Lumsden states that the right of assem-
bly provided the foundation of every step of the suffrage campaign. This
crucial link between the right to peaceably assemble and women's struggle
for the right to vote is explored by the author in this well-written and
engrossing book.
The book details the painstaking struggle of women to overcome
numerous obstacles to win the right to vote. Not only were there legal
hurdles to overcome, but perhaps even more in evidence were deeply
ingrained social barriers. Women's attempts to assemble in public and to
attain the right to vote and the full citizenship those rights implied were
seen as threats to the social order and to the way women were viewed by
1 30 Book Reviews • Spring 1 999
society. The right to assemble was one the Founding Fathers intended for
men, not necessarily women, and women exercising this right met with
criticisms and sanctions. Lumsden provides a review of women's early
attempts to exercise the right to gather and speak publicly in a male-
dominated society. She describes Anne Hutchison's attempt to gather
women in her home to study religion in 1630, which led to Hutchison's
banishment by the authorities, and she credits the abolition movement's
key role in winning women their right to speak in public, noting the
contributions of particular southern women abolitionists and the criticism
of their efforts.
The book's organization follows the progression of women's use of
the right of assembly. The author devotes a chapter each to the right of
association and women's use of it in suffrage mass meetings, delegations,
and conventions; their use of open air meetings; their use of petitions;
their use of parades to build support for the movement; their staging of
pageants to gain middle and upper-class support, and their use of pickets
to further their cause. She notes the importance of the suffrage conven-
tions as the movement's heart and as gatherings where women gained the
skills and confidence they needed to take their message to a wider audi-
ence. She describes the spread of the open air meetings, first held in New
York and then around the country, and the problems suffragists had in
getting legal permits to speak on street corners. She explores in detail how
the issues of race and class affected the suffrage movement, paying close
attention to the racism that African American women were subject to not
only from police and the public, but from white suffragists as well.
Of particular interest to journalism historians are Lumsden's detailed
discussions of the reactions of the newspapers of the period to the suffrag-
ists' efforts to bring their message to the public. Newspapers often ridi-
culed their early efforts and their public gatherings, as evidenced by the
editorial the New York Herald carried in 1853, from which Lumsden
quotes: "The assemblage of rampant women which convened at the
Tabernacle yesterday was an interesting phase in the comic history of the
19th century." However, by the turn of the century, newspapers began to
change the tone of their coverage, and Lumsden describes how the
newspapers, as the most influential mass medium at the time, provided
the movement a national forum by covering the suffrage parades as
serious news stories with front page coverage.
Modern readers, in this age of instant visual communication, may
find it difficult to comprehend fully the absolutely vital role the right to
assemble played in the advancement of the suffrage movement. The
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 131
women Lumsden describes literally took their arguments to the people by
the only means open to them — their hard-fought right to assemble, and
to petition, parade, speak, and picket in public to often uninformed,
indifferent, and hostile audiences in cities across the nation. Lumsden
brings these women's words and arguments to life in this account.
This book is a must-read for many reasons. It is written in a compel-
ling fashion and is based on extensive research using numerous primary
sources, archival materials, legal cases, and secondary sources. The bibliog-
raphy alone is worth a look, as are the extensive notes provided for each
chapter and the appendices regarding major figures, events, and chronol-
ogy of the suffrage movement.
Rampant Women has wide appeal. It should appeal to anyone
interested in understanding the integral role the right of assembly plays in
the struggle of any disenfranchised group in American society.
>Tamara Baldwin, Southeast Missouri State University
Robert Worth Bingham and the Southern Mystique:
From the Old South to the New South and Beyond
By William E. Ellis, Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 1997, 258 pp.
William E. Ellis of Eastern Kentucky University has set out to
accomplish two difficult tasks. The first is to dispel, once and for all, the
rumor that dogged Robert Worth Bingham (1871-1937) to his grave and
well beyond that he killed his second wife for her money so that he could
buy The Courier-Journal and. Times of Louisville, Kentucky. Ellis' second
task is to show that the life of this lawyer and local officeholder who
bought the two newspapers and eventually served as ambassador to
England is the stuff of compelling biography. Because of his thoroughness
and attention to detail, Ellis accomplishes his first task: He convincingly
lays the scandal to rest. But despite his exhaustive research, the second
task proves insurmountable. The subject of this careful report never
emerges as a vital force that can propel a narrative from beginning to end.
It's not that Bingham lacked for passion. He was a progressive with
resolve living in unjust times, a man with motive and opportunity who
was determined to do good. As interim mayor of Louisville for several
months in 1907, Bingham stopped local saloons from flouting the Sunday
Closing Law, removed policemen and firemen from a system of political
patronage, encouraged police vice raids of downtown prostitution and
gambling operations, and exposed the filthy facilities of City Hospital. As
1 32 Book Reviews • Spring 1 999
a circuit court judge appointed to serve a vacated post, Bingham reduced
a backlog of cases to a manageable level. As publisher of The Courier-
Journal and Times, Bingham supported prohibition, women's suffrage, and
the League of Nations, and he helped tobacco farmers organize coopera-
tives to get fair prices for their produce. And as FDR's ambassador to the
Court of St. James, he increasingly denounced Nazi Germany as "people
who regard war as a cult and blood and honour as something to teach
little children, and who only listen to the argument of force."
Most of this history is lost on people today. Thanks to a spate of
tawdry exposes from The Binghams of Louisville in 1987 to The Patriarch
in 1991, Robert Worth Bingham is remembered as a media mogul who
poisoned his wife for an inheritance. The truth, as Ellis carefully points
out, lacks the intrigue but none of the tragedy. In 1913 Bingham's wife
Eleanor died when a commuter train slammed into her car. Three years
later, he married the widow of multimillionaire Henry M. Flagler, Mary
Lily Kenan Flagler. There was no prenuptial agreement, nor was there
provision for Bingham in her will, but a codicil signed just six weeks
before Mary Lily died unexpectedly (after only seven months of marriage
to Bingham) left him $5 million. Rumors swirled, claiming that Flagler or
Bingham had given syphilis to Mary Lily and that Bingham had drugged
her and pushed her down a flight of stairs. These rumors were unfounded.
What few people knew was that when Mary Lily died, Bingham was
searching for a treatment for her alcoholism. The family secret was that
Mary Lily was a binge drinker who, according to Dr. Hugh Young of
Johns Hopkins University Hospital, would "lock herself up and drink
many bottles of gin." Young confirmed that alcohol abuse, and not
"poisoning or foul play," had killed Mary Lily.
Bingham received his inheritance one year after Mary Lily died, and
within days he had purchased 71 percent of the shares of The Courier-
Journal and Times. He purchased the remaining 29 percent two years later.
The total cost was $1.5 million. Bingham ran the papers until 1933,
when he left Louisville to serve as ambassador to St. James' Court. His
two oldest children were alcoholics and unreliable, so leadership of the
papers went to his youngest child Barry, who became publisher at the age
of 27.
Throughout this book, Ellis points out that Bingham's progressive-
ness did not extend to the issue of race, hence the title Robert Worth
Bingham and the Southern Mystique. Bingham supported African Ameri-
can educational institutions and he opposed the Ku Klux Klan, but his
Courier-Journal continued to publish the racist comic "Hambone"
throughout the 1920s. Bingham did little, Ellis says, "to overturn the
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 133
racial mores of the community." It's a stretch to call this support of the
racial status quo "the southern mystique" — what was the support of the
racial status quo called in New York, Boston, or Chicago? — but that's the
only lapse in this otherwise authoritative book that sets the record straight
on Robert Worth Bingham.
> John P. Ferre, University of Louisville
The World According To Hollywood 1918-1939.
By Ruth Vasey, Madison, Wisconsin: The University of Wisconsin Press,
1997, 299 pp.
From the flickering beginnings of the Nickelodeon to today's hi-tech
film industry, attempts to regulate movie content have been as much a
part of film history as the rise of the Hollywood studios, the coming of
sound, or wide screen projection. The control of movie content by state
and local censorship boards, and after 1 920, the Hays Office, and later
still, the Production Code Administration (PCA), was a well known fact
to generations of moviegoers. Indeed, the press reported that American
audiences often booed the PCA seal when it appeared on their local
screens.
Even so, establishing the who, what, when, where, and why of film
censorship is something of a Johnny-come-lately to the field of film
history. Scholarly attention to the actual operations of film censorship
began in earnest only after the records of the Production Code Adminis-
tration were opened to scholars in 1983. Ruth Vasey 's The World According
to Hollywood, 1918-1939 is the latest contribution to a growing library
devoted to the history of film censorship.
A Professor of Film Studies at the University of New South Wales,
Australia, Vasey correctly notes that recent books on censorship largely
ignore the impact Hollywood's financial reliance on foreign markets had
on shaping American film content. Indeed, Hollywood's financial health
depended on a global economy long before the phrase gained its present
currency. As Vasey notes, following the end of World War 1,35 percent of
the studios' gross revenue was generated from rentals outside the United
States. With millions of foreign dollars at stake, Hollywood was as
concerned to pacify foreign censors as it was to placate its domestic critics.
In turn, Hollywood films depicted a world devoid of political strife,
tyranny or terror. In short, the world according to Hollywood was an
idealized, romanticized, exotic version of Andy Hardy's Main Street, USA
134 Book Reviews • Spring 1999
If Hollywood's product proved simpleminded, the process involved
in making pictures for world wide distribution while avoiding political
controversy and cultural offense became increasingly complex, particularly
with the introduction of the sound film. Throughout the silent film era,
dealing with the knotty intricacies of foreign political and cultural
sensibilities was fairly easy. As Vasey explains, offending material could be
cut without destroying the narrative structure of the film. For example,
the Japanese routinely cut out scenes that showed kissing, while the
British cut scenes featuring religious ceremonies. In fact, foreign distribu-
tors often inserted new title cards that completely changed the original
intent of the story.
The coming of sound in 1927 presented a new challenge. Cutting
scenes from a synchronized sound film destroyed its narrative coherency.
Thus, Vasey argues, after the advent of talking pictures, Hollywood has
forced to create a single international standard for film content that
eliminated as much as possible the need for censorship. This need was,
Vasey contends, a chief motivating factor behind the 1930 adoption of
the Production Code. Clearly, American film censorship was the product
of a number of interactive forces. Amidst economic depression, threats of
government oversight of Hollywood's monopolistic business practices, the
specter of Legion of Decency instigated boycotts, and a fear of losing
foreign revenues all played their part. Vasey's book gives a good overview
of the particular impact of foreign markets on American film censorship,
even if one wishes for more detailed analysis of how the various foreign
censors worked in specific situations. What did different foreign govern-
ments specially object to? What internal political, religious, and cultural
pressure groups were foreign censors themselves subject to?
If Vasey's study raises more questions than it answers, it does make
plain that studio self-censorship was as determined to avoid political
controversy as it was to eliminate immorality. As Vasey notes, the pressure
to circumscribe the terms of Hollywood's political discourse, arising from
worldwide institutions of censorship helped to reinforce the perceived
status of Hollywood movies as objects of entertainment devoid of political
significance. Vasey makes one assertion about the final effect of censorship
that civil libertarians might find dubious. She contends that censorship
threw the responsibility for interpretation squarely onto the audience
providing a wider range of imaginative options. As the argument goes,
censorship thus produced gaps in the text that offered more open rather
than closed interpretations.
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 135
No doubt film audiences became adept at reading between-the-lines,
but, I fear, in a rush to valorize so-called active audiences, over against
passive receivers of media messages, many film historians inadvertently
turn a historical necessity into a theoretical virtue. In any event, Vasey's
work opens up an area of research that is important to an understanding
of the political and social impact, at home and abroad, of Hollywood's
depiction of a world that never was.
>G. Tom Poe, University of Missouri, Kansas City
Tombstone *s Epitaph
By Douglas D. Martin, Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press,
1997,287 pp.
Listen closely as you turn the pages of Douglas D. Martin's
Tombstone's Epitaph. You will swear that you can hear Wyatt Earp's spurs
jingle with each of his steps, the gunshots at the OK Corral, and horses'
hooves pounding Tombstones dirt streets. Reading this book is like
stepping into a time tunnel and taking a quantum leap into the Wild
West of the late 19th century. If journalism is the first draft of history, as
many claim it is, then Tombstones Epitaph is a compilation of a truly rich
source of Old West lore. By compiling and categorizing numerous articles
from this frontier newspaper, and then weaving them with his own
narrative, Martin provides a series of verbal snapshots, transporting the
reader deep into Tombstone of the 1880s. In effect, the book is the
product of an ethnographic study, using written documents in this case,
articles from the Tombstones Epitaph as a window into this world.
Founded in 1880, the Epitaph is Arizona's oldest continuously
published newspaper. Martin meticulously combed the pages of editions
from the early 1880s, piecing together a portrait of life in legendary
Tombstone. As revealed in the pages of the Epitaph, it is a world rich in
both the expected and unexpected. While the focus of late 19th century
Tombstone as well as Tombstone's Epitaph is the stereotypical image of
shoot-outs and the infamous OK Corral, there was much more to Tomb-
stone. In addition to news of holdups and murders, one can also find other
"flavors" of Tombstone society in these pages, including news of ice cream
socials, restaurant menus, church bazaars, the annual New Year's Eve dance
hosted by the town firefighters, concerts and other entertainment.
The frontier style of journalism exemplified by the Epitaph not only
included detailed accounts of happenings, but also a sort of community
136 Book Reviews • Spring 1999
cheerleading, sometimes carried to the point of less-than-objective
accounts of developments. Founder and editor Jack Clum established an
editorial policy that each of his successors adhered to: rallying the spirits
of the people and renewing their faith in the greatness of their hometown.
It was common to editorialize within articles, and also to attack compet-
ing newspapers. The editor of the competing Tombstone Nugget once
wrote, "The utterances of the old Drunkard who runs the Epitaph at
present do not bother us in the least." As Martin writes, the fear of libel
never held a Tombstone editor back.
Clum used his lofty position at the Epitaph to become Tombstone's
first mayor. In turn, he used the newspaper as a vehicle for community
boosterism. At times that meant downplaying the coverage of image-
damaging events such as natural disasters. Martin suggests it was probable
that Clum and his successors did not want to discourage the investment
of new capital and an increase in population. The editor/mayor would
also use his position to chastise those who failed to invite him to impor-
tant social events. In the midst of reporting on one Thanksgiving Day
dinner, for example, Clum wrote that "Lack of space and an opportunity
of personal observance forbid a more detailed account of the evenings
enjoyment."
Another aspect of Tombstone life that is typically not associated with
this town of the Old West is sports. Coverage of sports stories, especially
Tombstone's favorites sport, baseball, was commonplace. The Tombstone
nine would travel the Arizona territory, with game results sometimes
taking days to reach the paper's offices. Once after some tough losses at the
territorial fair in "Phenix" (sic), the editor was so carried away in his
lament that he neglected to mention the scores in the Epitaph's Sunday
edition. And with no Monday edition, the paper could not remedy the
oversight until Tuesday. Sports coverage also extended to events such as
cockfighting and boxing, with the Epitaph often encouraging the latter,
providing space for the issuance and acceptance of challenges.
But based on the selections that Martin includes in his book, the
primary "sport" in Tombstone seems to have been gun fighting. Perhaps
no town was ever more appropriately named. As Martin writes, "Surely no
other paper in the history of American journalism ever carried more
reports of crime than the Epitaph published in its first 10 years." While
the laws were enforced a bit more loosely than today, Tombstone and the
southeastern part of the Arizona territory did not exhibit the lawlessness
that many assume. In fact, the infamous gunfight at the OK Corral which
plays a prominent role in Tombstones Epitaph was the culmination of an
Spring 1999 • American Journalism 137
effort to combat the "cow-boy situation." Tombstone's two newspapers
disagreed over how to best handle the situation. The Republican Epitaph
called these men a curse to the country and to business while the Nugget
belittled efforts to control them.
After the OK Corral shoot-out occurred on October 26, 1881, there
was a sharp division not just among the townsfolk, but also between the
newspapers over whether the three Earp brothers and Doc Holliday were
justified in killing three people. The Nugget led the criticism of Marshall
Earp, while the Epitaph ultimately defended the need to uphold the law.
As the debate raged, so did federal attempts to investigate and possibly
intercede in Arizona. When President Chester Arthur later issued a
proclamation admonishing those in the Territory of Arizona from taking
part in any unlawful proceeding the Epitaph, by then under a new
Democratic publisher, replied with an editorial stating that Arizona was
one of the most peaceful parts of the country and all it wanted was to be
left alone.
But the damage to Wyatt Earp had already been done. The "Lion of
Tombstone" left the town in March 1 882. The Epitaph had clearly been
supportive of Earp, calling his appointment as deputy sheriff in 1880 an
"eminently proper one," and a week later noting that he is "ever to the
front when duty calls." After Earp was appointed US Marshal, the Epitaph
reported that "the town has been noted for its quietness and good order."
Remember, this was a newspaper whose philosophy was to develop good
will, particularly among the business community. Investors would be
reluctant to sink capital into ventures in a town that could not protect
their investment. No wonder the paper supported Earp, his brothers, and
Doc Holliday. But that could not stop the investigation of the OK Corral
incident. The Epitaph carried the testimony in full. While the Earps and
Holliday were exonerated, they were marked men. When Morgan Earp
was killed, the Epitaph headlined the story "The Deadly Bullet: The
Assassin at Last Successful in His Devilish Mission" in its March 20, 1882
edition. It was shortly thereafter that Wyatt left town. The last mention
of his whereabouts was in the April 14, 1882 edition of the Epitaph.
Given the nature of Tombstone life, hangings were not uncommon,
nor were the Epitaph's accounts of them. The same kind of detailed
reporting that was the rule of the day with other kinds of stories also
prevailed here. The pages of the newspaper would contain items such as
what the condemned ate for dinner the night prior to their executions,
what they wore, and the attendance at the hanging: "The prisoners last
night regaled themselves with a hearty supper of oysters and other delica-
cies furnished by the sheriff. As they were being attired in grave clothes an
1 38 Book Reviews • Spring 1 999
occasional grim joke at the appearance of some of their comrades was
indulged in by the bandits. Over 500 tickets of admission to the jail yard
to witness the execution were issued." Nor was the detailed reporting
confined to pre-execution festivities. It included highly descriptive
accounts of the hanging itself, including how long each body pulsated
from the moment the trap door fell with a "swish."
The Epitaph was not immune from many of the realities of contem-
porary journalism, including the economic imperative of advertising. In
fact, there were long stretches when the front page carried nothing but
advertising. The primary advertisers were saloons, restaurants, and not
surprisingly undertakers. There was also what, from a late 20th century
perspective, seems to be a sort of naivete or innocence in the Epitaph's
writing. But not unlike contemporary journalism, it also reflected a "what
are people talking about" approach to coverage. Articles included the
following: "It won't do any harm to go to church today. Try the experi-
ence." After the death of a citizen: "The body was not well embalmed and
the stench was beginning to get so great it was feared the express company
would not ship it." "A hair-pulling match occurred on Fifth street yester-
day between two parties of the weaker sex. During the melee various and
numerous articles of feminine wearing apparel were flying wildly through
the air and total annihilation of everything present seemed imminent."
"Beautiful day yesterday." "Another crank has been toying with a Gila
monster, with the result that he is likely to die."
According to one story, the Epitaph acquired its name based on the
theory newspapers, like epitaphs, were generally a collection of lies. One
hopes that philosophy extends only to that story and not to the publica-
tion itself. Otherwise the newspaper and consequently Martin's book is
largely a compilation of untruths. While that seems unlikely, it does point
to the potential pitfalls in writing a book that relies on a solitary source
like the Epitaph. Not only is it dependent on the accuracy of the docu-
ments, but what is not in the record can be as important as what is. Other
minor defects include that the author does not provide the reader with
information regarding his method of deciding what he included, nor is it
made clear that this 1997 edition is largely a reprint of a work originally
published in 1951. Nonetheless, Tombstones Epitaph is a fascinating work,
symbolic of the notion that the products of journalism although them-
selves possibly flawed provide a one-of-a-kind, "You are there" glimpse
into historical periods like few other sources can.
>Joseph A. Russomanno, Arizona State University
Spring 1 999 • American Journalism 1 39
00 ON
A Journal of Media History
Summer 1999
Volume 16, Number 3
J American -j _•
ournansm
"In Common with Colored Men, I Have
Certain Sentiments": Black Nationalism and
Hilary Teage of the Liberia Herald
Carl Patrick Burrowes
Women's Moral Reform Periodicals of the
19th Century: A Cultural Feminist Analysis
of The Advocate
Therese Lueck ?!
Redefining Racism: Newspaper Justification
for the 1924 Exclusion of Japanese Immigrants -~
Bradley J. Hamm
Project Chariot, Nuclear Zeal, Easy Journalism
and the Fate of Eskimos
John Merton Marrs 7r
Great Ideas: My Newspaper is Older
Than Your Newspaper!
Michael R. Smith ??.
Book Reviews
A. Journal of Media History Summer 1999
Volume 16, Number 3
American
J American * _•
ournalism
Editor Shirley Biagi
California State
University, Sacramento
Book Review Editor David Spencer
University of
Western Ontario
Assistant Editor Timi Ross Poeppelman
California State
University, Sacramento
Design Gwen Amos
California State
University, Sacramento
Former Editors William David Sloan
University of Alabama
Gary Whitby
East Texas State
John Pauly
Saint Louis University
Wallace B. Eberhard
University of Georgia
1 999 American Journalism
Historians Association Officers
President Eugenia Palmegiano
Saint Peter's College
1st Vice President William David Sloan
University of Alabama
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Emory Henry College
Administrative Secretary Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist
University
Treasurer Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State
University
Historian Alf Pratte
Brigham Young
University
Board of Directors David Abrahamson
John Coward
David Davies
Wallace Eberhard
Kathleen Endres
John Ferre
Tracy Gottlieb
Pat Washburn
Julie Williams
Definition of History .
For purposes of written research papers and publications, the term history
shall be seen as a continuous and connected process emphasizing but not
necessarily confined to subjects of American mass communications. History
should be viewed not in the context of perception of the current decade, but as
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American Journalism publishes articles, book reviews and correspondence
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A Journal of Media History Summer 1999
Volume 16, Number 3
J American * .
ournalism
\ Editor's Note: Media History As a Reflection of Ideological
Diversity 9
"In Common with Colored Men, I Have Certain Sentiments": Black
Nationalism and Hilary Teage of the Liberia Herald 17
Carl Patrick Burrowes
The author subjects the writings of former Liberia Herald editor Hilary Teage
to a "discourse analysis. " This analysis seeks to understand the thought process
behind Teage's writings.
Women's Moral Reform Periodicals of the 19th Century: A Cultural
Feminist Analysis of The Advocate 37
Therese Lueck
Using cultural feminism as its theoretical framework, this study attempts to
show how the mission of The Advocate, to reform and retrain prostitutes into
composers and typesetters for The Advocate, significantly contributed to
feminist ideology in the 19th century.
Redefining Racism: Newspaper Justification for the 1924 Exclusion of
Japanese Immigrants 53
Bradley J. Hamm
This article discusses editorials about the Immigration Act in six daily
newspapers — The New York Times, the New York Herald Tribune, the
Chicago Daily Tribune, the San Francisco Chronicle, the San Francisco
Examiner, the Louisville Courier-Journal — during the congressional debate
over the Act in April and May 1924.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism
Project Chariot, Nuclear Zeal, Easy Journalism and the Fate of
Eskimos 71
John Merton Marrs
This article focuses on the newspaper coverage of Project Chariot, a proposal to
detonate five nuclear bombs in northwest Alaska in the 1960s.
Great Ideas: My Newspaper is Older Than Your Newspaper! 99
Michael R. Smith
The author discusses the debate and controversy over which newspaper is the
nations oldest.
Book Review Editor's Note 103
Book Reviews 1 03
/ Editor's Choice: Comic Strips and the Consumer
Culture: 1890-1945 103
By Ian Gordon
Reviewed by David R. Spencer
American Photojournalism Comes of Age 1 06
By Michael L. Carlebach
Reviewed by Ronald E. Ostman
As Long As Sarajevo Exists 1 09
By Kemal Kurspahic
Reviewed by Owen V. Johnson
The Carnivalization of Politics: Quebec Cartoons
on Relations with Canada, England, and France,
1960-1979 112
By Raymond N. Morris
Revieived by Mary Vipond
Darwinian myths: The Legends and Misuses of
a Theory 114
By Edward Caudill
Reviewed by David R. Davies
6 Table of Contents • Summer 1999
The Electronic Grapevine: Rumor, Reputation and
Reporting in the New On-Line Environment 115
By Diane L. Borden and Kerric Harvey
Reviewed by David Abrahamson
Masterpieces of Reporting: Volume 1 117
By William David Sloan and Cheryl S. Wray
Reviewed by Kathy English
War of the Black Heavens: The Battles of Western
Broadcasting in the Cold War 118
By Michael Nelson
Reviewed by Craig Allen
Summer 1999 • American Journalism
Summer 1999
Editor s Note
Media's rich, diverse past is the subject of this month's journal,
covering a period of more than 100 years. In all cases, the authors of the
articles in this issue focus on media history that is outside the mainstream,
hoping to add new faces and perspectives to the stories that scholars can
tell.
"In Common with Colored Men, I Have Certain Sentiments" by
Carl Patrick Burrowes is the story of Hilary Teague, editor of the Liberia
Herald from 1835 to 1850. Born in the US, Teague emigrated to Africa as
a teenager. He became a landowner, a merchant, and an influential voice
in Liberia's move from a colony to a republic. Burrowes documents
Teague's accomplishments in an attempt to "rescue Teague from unde-
served obscurity."
As a voice for reform for 19th century women, The Advocate "was
the foremost messenger for moral reform," according to Therese L. Lueck.
In "Women's Moral Reform Periodicals of the 19th Century: A Cultural
Feminist Analysis of The Advocate," Lueck says that the role of female
reform societies has been minimized by some feminist scholars, as tangen-
tial to women's history. This is a mistake, says Lueck, citing scholar Susan
Henry's important observation that the journalism produced by these
women "developed shared, female-identified values, rituals, relationships
and modes of communication that were sources of satisfaction and
strength."
While the women at The Advocate were working for z'wclusion in
American society, 1920s US newspapers found themselves in the position
of trying to justify the exclusion of Japanese immigrants. In "Redefining
Racism: Newspaper Justification for the 1924 Exclusion of Japanese
Immigrants," Bradley J. Hamm focuses on the way several newspapers
treated the Immigration Act of 1924 as a way to analyze attitudes toward
the Japanese in this country before World War II. Besides the traditional
arguments for exclusion, says Hamm, one newspaper even found itself in
the unusual position of editorializing that the Japanese should be pre-
vented from joining the nation's workforce because they were equal, even
superior to US workers.
Nearly 40 years later, the media's actions actually helped stop an
Atomic Energy Commission proposal to detonate five nuclear bombs to
excavate a harbor in Northwest Alaska. John Merton Mars, in "Project
Chariot, Nuclear Zeal, Easy Journalism and the Fate of Eskimos," says
Summer 1999 • American Journalism
that media coverage of the issue, although both late and lazy, brought
enough visibility that eventually the government scrapped the plan. "The
press," says Mars, "seems to be willing to treat oppositional news fairly, so
long as the opposition brings the news to the press."
In Great Ideas, Michael R. Smith talks about the difficulty of
defining just which newspaper is the nation's oldest. And David Spencer's
book review selections maintain the theme of presenting diverse ideas
with reviews of a wide range of topics, including comic strips, photojour-
nalism, Sarajevo, and online journalism.
The subject of this issue — diversity — was very important to one of
AJHA's most ardent supporters, Donna Allen. Donna died this summer.
As founder of Media Report to Women, she was a pioneer. I remember the
first AJHA Women's Roundtable luncheon I attended. We all sat around
one small, circular table and Donna Allen was the honoree. After shyly
acknowledging the honor, she spent the rest of the time speaking on
behalf of the importance of media history for and about women. AJHA
will miss her exuberance, her energy and her commitment to media
history, to diversity and to women.
The focus of the next issue 0$ American Journalism will be conserva-
tive media, with Rodger Streitmatter serving as Guest Editor. Also, as the
journal begins to turn the corner on the next century, David Mindich has
agreed to serve as Guest Editor for the journal's special issue scheduled for
fall 2000. "The Buzz: Technology in Journalism and Mass Communica-
tion History" is the title David has given this special issue. Don't miss the
Call for Manuscripts (with a February 1, 2000 deadline) on page 11.
Shirley Biagi
10 Editor's Note • Summer 1999
Call for Manuscripts
The Buzz: Technology in Journalism
and Mass Communication History
American Journalism, the quarterly journal of the American
Journalism Historians Association, announces a call for manuscripts for
a special theme issue focusing on technology and history.
The issue, edited by David T. Z. Mindich, called The Buzz:
Technology in Journalism and Mass Communication History, is sched-
uled for Fall 2000. The deadline for submissions is February 1, 2000.
The theme of technology is inclusive. Topics could include but
are not limited to:
• how printing, the telegraph, or other devices changed or
challenged journalism;
• implicit comparisons between older technologies and newer ones,
including ways in which the public viewed future technology; and
• the role of technology in formulating or reformulating minority
communities.
The term "technology" itself could be approached in a number of
ways, including electronic, electric, and pre-electric (including
printing) communication aids. Manuscripts that include graphics
and/or photographs are encouraged.
Manuscripts should follow the American Journalism guidelines for
submissions, and be sent to:
David T Z. Mindich
Dept of Journalism and Mass Communication
Saint Michael's College
Colchester, VT 05439
For more information, please contact David Mindich at
dmindich@smcvt.edu or phone (802) 654-2637.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1
12 Summer 1999
American Journalism Reviewers
David Abrahamson
Northwestern University
June Adamson
University of Tennessee
Donna Allen
Women's Institute for Freedom of the Press
Perry Ashley
University of South Carolina
Donald Avery
Penn State University
Gerald Baldasty
University of Washington
Warren "Sandy" Barnard
Indiana State University
Sharon Bass
University of Kansas
Maurine Beasley
University of Maryland
Tom Beell
Iowa State University
Louise Benjamin
University of Georgia
Sherilyn Cox Bennion
Humboldt State University
Douglas Birkhead
University of Utah
Roy Blackwood
Bemidji State University
Margaret Blanchard
University of North Carolina
Fred Blevens
Southwest Texas State University
Patricia Bradley
Temple University
Bonnie Brermen
Virginia Commonwealth University
Joshua Brown
American Social History Project
Pam Brown
Rider University
Judith Buddenbaum
Colorado State University
Elizabeth Burt
University of Hartford
Flora Caldwell
University of Mississippi
James Carey
Columbia University
Jean Chance
University of Florida
Ann Colbert
Indiana-Purdue University
Tom Connery
University of St. Thomas
John Coward
University of Tulsa
David Copeland
Emory & Henry College
Ed Cray
University of Southern California
David Davies
University of Southern Mississippi
John DeMott
University of Missouri, Kansas City
Donna Dickerson
University of South Florida
Pat Dooley
University of Maine
Carolyn Dyer
University of Iowa
Wally Eberhard
University of Georgia
Kathleen Endres
University of Akron
Ferrell Ervin
Southeast Missouri State University
Bruce Evenson
DePaul University
Fred Fedler
University of Central Florida
Summer 1999 • American Journalism
13
Tony Fellow
California State University, Fullerton
John Ferre
University of Louisville
Jean Folkerts
George Washington University
Robert Former
Calvin College
Jim Foust
Bowling Green University
Ralph Frasca
Hofstra University
Brooks Garner
Oklahoma State University
Dennis Gildea
Springfield College
Don Godfrey
Arizona State University
Doug Gomery
University of Maryland
Tracy Gottleib
Seton Hall University
Karla Gower
University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
Paul Grosswiler
University of Maine
Dennie Hall
University of Central Oklahoma
Margot Hardenbergh
Marist College
Susan Henry
California State University, Northridge
Louise Hermanson
University of South Alabama
Tom Heuterman
Washington State University
Glenn Himebaugh
Middle Tennessee State University
Nathaniel Hong
University of Washington
Brad Howard
Mount St. Clare College
Herbert Howard
University of Tennessee
Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist University
Bill Huntzicker
University of Minnesota
Frankie Hutton
Lehigh University
Terry Hynes
University of Florida
Dolores Jenkins
University of Florida
Jay Jernigan
Eastern Michigan University
Phil Jeter
Florida A & M University
Sammye Johnson
Trinity University
Tom Johnson
Southern Illinois University
Paula Kassell
New Directions for Women
Arthur Kaul
University of Southern Mississippi
Beverly Keever
University of Hawaii
Elliott King
Loyola College
Judith Knelman
Middlesex College
Bill Knowles
University of Montana
Ed Lambeth
University of Missouri
Linda Lawson
Indiana University
Richard Lentz
Arizona State University
Lawrence Lichty
Northwestern University
Larry Lorenz
Loyola University
Charles Marler
Abilene Christian University
John Marrs
Everett Community College
14
American Journalism Reviewers • Summer 1 999
Maclyn McClary
Humboldt State University
Sheila Mclntyre
Harvard University
Floyd McKay
Western Washington University
Joe Mc Kerns
Ohio State University
Craig McKie
Carleton University
James McPherson
Washington State University
Beverly Merrick
New Mexico State University
Karen Miller
University of Georgia
David Mindich
Saint Michael's College
Catherine Mitchell
University of North Carolina
James Mooney
East Tennessee State University
Meg Moritz
University of Colorado
Michael Murray
University of Missouri, St. Louis
Orayb Najjar
Northern Illinois University
Jack Nelson
Brigham Young University
Richard Nelson
Louisiana State University
Maureen Nemecek
Oklahoma State University
Mark Neuzil
University of St. Thomas
Doug Newsom
Texas Christian University
Ron Ostman
Cornell University
Laurie Ouellette
Rutgers University
Anna Paddon
Southern Illinois University
Oscar Patterson
Pembroke State University
Carol Polsgrove
Indiana University
Steve Ponder
University of Oregon
Alf Pratte
Brigham Young University
Chuck Rankin
Montana Historical Society
Barbara Reed
Rutgers University
Ford Risley
Pennsylvania State University
Nancy Roberts
University of Minnesota
Kitt Rushing
University of Tennessee, Chattanooga
Bill Ryan
Rockhurst College
Joe Scanlon
Carleton University
Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State University
Michael Schudson
UC San Diego
Mitchell Shapiro
University of Miami
Susan Siler
University of Tennessee
Roger Simpson
University of Washington
Norm Sims
University of Massachusetts
David Sloan
University of Alabama
Steve Smethers
Oklahoma State University
C. Zoe Smith
University of Missouri
F. Leslie Smith
University of Florida
Ted Smythe
California State University, Fullerton
Summer 1999 • American Journalism
15
David Spencer
University of Western Ontario
K. Sriramesh
Purdue University
Jim Startt
Valparaiso University
Ronald Stotyn
Georgia Southern University
Andris Straumanis
University of Minnesota
Rodger Streitmatter
American University
Victoria Sturgeon
Tennessee State University
Leonard Teel
Georgia State University
Clarence Thomas
Virginia Commonwealth University
Bernell Tripp
University of Florida
Tom Volek
University of Kansas
Pat Washburn
Ohio University
Susan Weill
University of Mississippi
Mary Weston
Northwestern University
Jan Whitt
University of Colorado
Julie Williams
Samford University
Betty Winfield
University of Missouri
16
American Journalism Reviewers • Summer 1999
"In Common with Colored Men, I
Have Certain Sentiments": Black
Nationalism and Hilary Teage of
the Liberia Herald
By Carl Patrick Burrowes
As editor of the Liberia Herald from 1835 to 1850, Hilary Teage
exerted a profound influence on events in Liberia and his reputation reverber-
ated among blacks across the Atlantic. In addition to writing Liberia's
declaration of independence, he published over 100 articles, editorials, poems,
sermons and speeches. Three persistent and pervasive themes in Teage s writings
were: aesthetic romanticism; black nationalism, an ideology that emerged
during the era of the early American republic; and liberal republicanism, ivith
its emphasis on empirical analysis and limited government.
Born in 1805 at the lowest rung of Virginia slave society,
Hilary Teage emigrated at age 17 to West Africa where he
went on — in the words of one of his contemporaries — to
make the single greatest personal contribution to the "framing and
establishment" of the Republic of Liberia.1 Founded in 1820, Liberia was
operated by the American Colonization Society (ACS), an organization of
powerful and influential whites,2 as a colony for American free blacks
until 1847, when the repatriates declared their independence.
While Liberia was a colony, it encompassed nine scattered coastal
towns with a population of 2,390. Only 27 percent of the people were
locally born, including some indigenous persons who had adopted
Carl Patrick Burrowes is Associate Professor of Mass Communication, School of Communica-
tions, Howard University in Washington, DC. He can be reached at: CPBurrowes@aol.com.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 17
Liberian ways. By 1868, the country had expanded to encompass a two-
mile strip along the coast, and the population had increased to 15,000,
consisting of 12,000 emigrants and 3,000 indigenous Africans.3 Through
the end of the 19th century, the country attracted some 19,000 blacks
from various parts of Africa and its Diaspora. Over this commonwealth,
Teage cast a long shadow, as Baptist minister, merchant, elected official,
president of the Liberia Lyceum, and especially as editor of the Herald
(1835-1850), which he used to spearhead the drive for Liberia's indepen-
dence.
In serving as editor of the Liberia Herald for 1 5 years, Teage left a
detailed, colorful and rare record of journalistic conditions in 19th
century Africa. In addition, he had what probably was the longest journal-
ism career of any black in the antebellum era. In contrast, John B.
Russwurm, who proceeded Teage as editor of the Herald and is better
known for having co-founded the first African American newspaper
{Freedom's Journal) had a journalistic career of seven years. Even Samuel
Cornish, who edited four newspapers — a record for any African American
during that period — only served a combined five years and two months in
journalism.4
Extended the Enlightenment to Africa
More important than longevity of service, Teage made a distinctive
intellectual contribution by applying Enlightenment ideas to the black
race and extending them to the continent of Africa, both of which had
been viewed as beyond the scope of the humanities. Also evident in his
writings are all the defining elements of an ideology known as black
nationalism.
As the author of Liberia's declaration of independence, Teage was
called "the Jefferson of Liberia,"5 a comparison that was intended to be
flattering but nonetheless was diminutive because it consigned him to the
shadows of a republican slaveholder, without recognition for his own
distinctive contribution to the struggle for human liberty. Despite Teage's
myriad accomplishments, his ideas, his contributions and his reputation
have faded over the years, like the newsprint through which they were
realized.
The Search for a Recurring Pattern
This study seeks to rescue Teage from undeserved obscurity by
providing a sketch of his life, along with an analysis of a major theme in
18 Burrowes • Summer 1999
his writings. Data was assembled by examining every surviving issue of
five periodicals that reported intensively on 19th century Liberia,6 along
with a similarly exhaustive examination of letters from African American
repatriates to their relatives, friends and former masters in the United
States in two published collections.7 In addition to many items by a
variety of authors on the life of Teage, this search process uncovered 112
substantive documents written by the subject, including 71 news articles
and editorials, six poems, two sermons, two major speeches, a treatise on
self-government by blacks, and — his magnum opus — Liberia's declaration
of independence.
Among his works that apparently did not survive were a journal in
which he kept records of his travels,8 a contemplated history of Liberia9
and copies of sermons.10 Some 20 research collections with holdings on
African colonization, Liberia and Baptist history were searched, of which
eight yielded significant primary materials." Sources were selected on the
basis of availability, relevance and reliability. To guard against unconscious
or deliberate biases, each document or set of documents was checked
against others drawn from different individual, political and institutional
sources.
But this study goes beyond a recounting of events to concern itself
with "the thought within them" which, as journalism historian James
Carey has suggested, should be the goal of cultural historians.12 To achieve
this objective, Teage's writings were subjected to "discourse analysis,"
meaning the search "to uncover the codes, constructions, cultural assump-
tions, connotations, values, and beliefs embedded in the text by locating
correspondences between a text and social structures and identities,
noting recurring patterns, such as the repetition of certain themes,
phrases, rhetoric, and so on in the discourse."13
Black Nationalism a Consistent Theme
One persistent and pervasive theme uncovered in Teage's writings
was black nationalism. This ideology emerged during the era of the early
American republic, when the contradiction between the revolutionary
sentiments of America's founders and their willingness to compromise
with slavery14 engendered a black reaction against white rejection, a sense
of racial identity and a belief that people of African descent share a
historical mission.15 In the early 19th century, the phrase "black national-
ism" was not used to describe what was then an emerging phenomenon;
nonetheless a sense of racial identification among blacks was common.
When the American Colonization Society's president wrote Teage in 1841
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 9
to complain about an "offensive" article in the Herald, for example, the
editor responded:
In common with colored men, I have certain sentiments ... I
should be altogether unworthy of your confidence and respect,
if I should at any time forget for a moment that this is my
indefeasible right, or so base and mean-spirited as not to claim
to exercise it whenever circumstances should demand it.16
Undergirding this response was the essence of black nationalism,
evident in his reference to "certain sentiments" that he shared with other
people of color.
Given the anomalous situation of African Americans, consisting of
geographic dispersal across the country, coupled with legal segregation
from others on the basis of race, their "nationalism" has always been
racially defined, "premised on the assumption that membership in a race
could function as the basis of a national identity." Because of its racial
composition, black nationalism easily elides into the kindred ideology of
pan-Africanism which, in its broadest interpretation, refers to a "general
sense of sympathy and mutual supportiveness among Africans and peoples
of African descent."
Like other nationalisms, however, black nationalism is anchored in
the belief among a group of people that they are "bound together by ties
of kinship, history and heritage," which distinguishes them from others
by their commonly held beliefs, behaviors and ways of thinking.'7 As a
belief system that was consciously elaborated during a time of social strain
and, over time, achieved integration, black nationalism has all the charac-
teristics of an "ideology," as defined by anthropologist Clifford Geerzt,
who contributed considerably to focusing scholarly attention on the
concept during the past several decades.18
Rising in the State of Being
Teage was born in 1805 to slave parents on a plantation in
Goochland County, Virginia, halfway between Richmond and
Charlottesville, not far from the home of Thomas Jefferson. Two years
later, his artisan father, Colin, was sold to the owners of a saddle and
harness factory in Richmond, a move that significantly widened the
family's vistas. By 1819, Colin had paid $1,300 to purchase his family of
three19 and, one year later, held property in Henrico County, outside the
city limits.20
In Richmond, the Teage family attended the racially mixed but
segregated First Baptist Church, where in 1815a tri-weekly night school
20 Burrowes • Summer 1999
was organized for about 17 leading black members, including Colin.21
Several white Baptist tradesmen and merchants, who had supported Colin
in his quest for manumission and literacy skills, also assisted in the
creation of the Richmond African Baptist Missionary Society in 1815 and
the ACS Richmond auxiliary in 1823.22 This was the context in which
Colin opted in 1821 to become a missionary to Africa, taking his wife,
Frances; Hilary, then age 16, and a 15-year-old daughter, Colinette, all of
whom were literate.23
Two years before leaving for Africa, Hilary and his sister were
described as having "been to school considerably." Their education was
organized in part by William Crane, a fellow Baptist and native of
Newark, New Jersey, who had coordinated a night school for their father
and other black adults.24 At this time, schooling for blacks was frowned
upon in Virginia, and there were no public schools, even for whites. The
curriculum of private schools in Richmond then included Latin, Greek,
mathematics, history, geography and natural philosophy.2' Hilary later
showed some familiarity with all of these subjects.
Teage brought considerable intellectual powers and energy to his
various pursuits, including a trading business, which he inherited after his
father's death in 1838 and quickly expanded. By 1845 he owned five
buildings in Monrovia, was earning an annual commission of $7,000, and
had five warehouses along the coast worth $30,000, with about $20,000
in trade stock. Between 1827 and 1853, he owned at least eight vessels
that were engaged in the West African coasting trade.26
However, his commercial fortunes declined in the late 1840s, as he
poured his energies into the campaign for independence.27 Teage was
elected colonial secretary in 1835, a member of the colonial council and
commissioner for Montserrado County five years later, member of the
Constitutional Convention in 1847, and senator for Montserrado County
one year later. In addition, he served as attorney general (1850-51) and
secretary of state (1852-1853), with a stint in May 1852 as acting chief
executive, while President Joseph Jenkins Roberts was abroad.28
Pride of Place Among Liberian Intellectuals
During the crucial period of 1830 to 1847, when Liberia moved
from being a colony to a republic, Teage occupied — by virtue of his age,
activities and early arrival in the colony — pride of place among local
intellectuals. His contemporaries in 1845 elected him the first president
of the Liberia Lyceum, which until about 1850 sponsored public speeches
and debates as a means of energizing and educating the larger commu-
nity.29 He was said to have been "remarkable for his abilities, his acquisi-
tions and his influence,"30 "one of the ablest and best read men in
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 2 1
Liberia,"31 and one of Liberia's "brightest and most cultivated intellects."32
West African writer Edward Wilmot Blyden (who would come to be
better known through the hundreds of essays and countless letters he
wrote to a large and influential circle of correspondents in Africa, England
and the United States) described Teage as having "genius."33
As pastor of the Providence Baptist Church in Monrovia, Teage filled
his days with such routine ministerial cares as preaching, ordaining and
meeting with his flock and other clergymen. From his warehouse on the
river front, he had a direct view of the St. Paul River, which was also the
site on many Sundays of the deep immersion baptisms preferred by
emigrants from the South. In 1848 alone, he baptized 61 people — more
than any other minister in the country.34 Teage was what sociologist
Antonio Gramsci termed an "organic intellectual," being the thinking and
organizing element of a particular social group. More than a mere elo-
quent mover of feelings on a momentary basis, he was a "permanent
persuader."35
Although Teage was rigid in his commitment to the cause of republi-
canism and repatriation, he displayed none of the acerbity and self-
righteousness that characerizes many ideologues. A traveling companion
on a sea trip from the United States to Liberia nored, "He was never
disposed to urge his opinions upon others, well knowing that the best and
most thorough converts to the truth usually become such through the
force of their own reflections and convictions."36 He described Teage as
"highly accomplished in his manners, very agreeable, various, and win-
ning in his conversations; of a kind, obliging and generous disposition,
and earnestly intent upon building up the cause of civilization and
Christianity in Africa." About Teage's personality, he said, "Amid trying
reverses in his pecuniary affairs his vivacity and cheerfulness continued
without abatement."37
Teage As Romantic Empiricist
Teage's tenure as editor of the Liberia Herald began in 1835, follow-
ing the resignation of John B. Russwurm, the paper's founding editor and
one of the first blacks to graduate from an American college.38 Four years
later, Teage acquired ownership of the paper from the ACS, which led the
editor of the rival Luminary to comment, "We speak advisedly when we
say that the editor, who is also publisher and proprietor, is making new
and judicious effort to improve it in every respect."39 In an editorial, Teage
described the newspaper office as quaint and somewhat rustic:
a little sooty apartment of six by eight. Beneath (the editor's)
dingy foolscap a portion of deal lies supinely on an empty
22 Burrowes • Summer 1999
barrel. A few odds and ends of books and newspapers lie in
hopeless confusion around. At his side an inkstand, not of
china, nor of bronze, but the small end of a cow's horn, on his
left a quiver of quills rifled from the upper surface of a
porcupine .... The walls are duly chalked, not with mechani-
cal design, nor geometrical diagrams, but with mathematical
momentos of the kroos40 of potatoes of which he has relieved
the farmer. This is his blotter; ledger, he keeps none.41
True to the temper of the times, Teage's writing showed the impact
of two dominant intellectual orientations. On the one hand, his social
perspective was anchored by 18th century liberal republicanism, with its
emphasis on empirical analysis, free enterprise economics and limited
government. On the other hand, his aesthetic was linked to romanticism,
the leading Western literary trend from about 1789 to 1839.42 His
commitment to objectivity was rooted in an empiricist theory of knowl-
edge— then emerging as the sine qua non of scientific thought. As Teage
explained in an 1845 lecture to the Lyceum, "Knowledge is derived from
without. After all that has been said about innate ideas and principles, it
will, I think, be no easy matter for anyone to show, that we have one
single idea that we did not originally receive by perception or sensation."
Later he added: "The object of the modern philosophy is to collect facts,
unlike the ancient which was to explain phenomena."43
In keeping with his scientific cast of mind, Teage's reports in the
Herald were detailed and colorful. He distinguished between various types
of local termites on the basis of physical characteristics and used a micro-
scope to scrutinize such oddities as the "witch" recovered by a traditional
African healer.44 Among English-language writers, he admired the "vigor,
precision or copiousness" of John Milton, Edmund Burke, Sir Isaac
Newton, Sir James Hall, and "the almost immortals that signed the
Declaration of American Independence. "4S Teage was modernist even in
his choice of type for the newspaper, which consisted of pica and bour-
geois faces,46 in contrast to the Old English and various classical faces
favored by other editors of the Herald.
Eclectic, Sardonic and Witty
Concerning aesthetics, he was eclectic, finding value and pleasure in
sources as diverse as American oratory, African cuisine and 18th century
British poetry. His own poetry, mostly on nature and patriotic themes,
contained many allusions to Africa's past grandeur. One of the poets most
often cited by Teage was England's Edward Young, whose work — like
some of his own — was laced with tinges of melancholy and meditations
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 23
on mortality.47 ButTeage's most masterful pieces were his speeches, which
combined systematic argumentation and flourishes of poetry delivered
with the full powers of a Baptist pastor. These often were laced with
poetic repetition, as in a section of a speech on the displacement of a
martial ethos by a civil era:
He who would embalm his name in the grateful remembrance
of coming generations — he who would secure for himself a
niche in the temple of undying fame — he who would hew out
for himself a monument of which his country may boast — he
who would entail upon heirs a name which they may be
proud to wear, must seek some other field than that of battle
as the theatre of his exploits.48
Taken as a whole Teage's works reveal a knowledgeable and witty writer
who could be self-deprecating at times yet devastatingly sardonic, if
crossed.49
In picturesque, self-mocking terms, Teage described an editor's
duties in his poverty-stricken society:
the boy comes for copy. He draws on a well backed trestle, for
which he is indebted to the carelessness of the carpenter, and
seats himself in front of the barrel. Seizing the fearful quill, he
thus begins:
'The press, the omnipotent press, is the most powerful
engine which it has ever been the lot of mortals to
possess. It is the scourge of tyrants, the pillar of
religion and the Palladium of civil liberty. From it, as
from an impregnable rampart, the fearless independent
editor
But this self-congratulatory rumination by the editor is
suddently interrupted by the copy boy, whose concerns are
more mondane:
There is no cassado50 for breakfast, sir.
Well, go and get some, and don't bother me.
/ have no money, sir.
Well go and collect some money.
/ have carried out the bills, sir.
Have you collected any money?
24 Burrowes • Summer 1999
No sir.
Why?
Mr. — says he has no money, and you need not be afraid
of the small amount. Mr. — says he don't like the paper
now; you are too polite . Mr. — says your paper is
scurrilous. Mr. — says there is too much religion in it and
too little politics. Mr. — says there is too much politics
and too little religion, and Mr. — says you have insulted
his fathers tenth cousin. They say they will not make the
paper any longer, and they will pay when they get the
money.
That will do; go and call again in an hour for copy.
With this dismissal, the editor briefly resumes his rumination:
And though there is no class of men to whom the
world is under more immense obligation, yet, there is
none . . .
Jambo has come to get his pay for the palm oil, sir
Be gone, sir, don't you see I am engaged . . . there is
none we respect that is doomed to a more hopeless . . .
The ram has gnawed the rollers, sir.
Well, cast another.
We have no molasses, sir.
Well, shut up the office, and go to dinner.51
In keeping with journalistic standards in an era when copyright
conventions were not strictly observed, Teage published samples from his
diverse readings. The November 7, 1845 issue of the Herald, for example,
carried a letter from a correspondent in Haiti, along with articles culled
from the Republican-leaning New York Tribune, published by Horace
Greeley; the Federalist Evening Post, founded by Alexander Hamilton; the
New York Sun, the first successful penny press and an ally of the Demo-
cratic Party; London's iconoclastic Punch; and England-based Westminster
Review, an outlet for the writings of Jeremy Bentham and James Mill, two
founders of British utilitarian economics.52
Adhered to Journalistic Standards
Stemming from his avid reading, Teage revealed a keen understand-
ing of journalistic standards of his day. In an appeal to his patrons for
support, he noted differences between the news environment of Africa
and more industrialized countries, bemoaning the absence in Liberia of
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 25
"the privilege of arraigning and abusing public men and measures." This
was lacking, he noted:
not perhaps from a virtuous disposition in us, or that we write
with a pen less wayward than others, that we do not make
occasional drafts on this fruitful subject, but rather because
our men and measures are known within a circle so circum-
scribed that any thing we could say with respect to them,
would be uninteresting to our distinct readers.
Also absent from his environment were those "striking events" that
journalists of the day considered newsworthy, events which:
vary and enliven the dull and monotonous narration of
ordinary life. No mobs affording columns of matter in
accounts of heads broke, houses rifled, magistrates resisted,
laws defied, or any other of those brilliant events which
generally mark the reign of mobocracy
"To this degree of refinement," he added with no small measure of
sarcasm, "the citizens of Liberia have not as yet arrived; it is left, therefore,
to some more fortunate Editor to describe them, when futurity shall bring
them forth. "53 The type of society promoted by Teage was one rooted in
reasoned consensus, which could be achieved only through "free and
dispassionate discussion."14 Enlightenment would result, he argued, from
vigorous public debate, the kind sponsored by the Liberia Lyceum and
conducted in the pages of the Herald:
Let the whole popular mind, with its 'Press' and various civil
institutions, concentrate on any one subject, and truth will
rise prescient. For proof, notice the progress which the subject
of slavery has made. As soon as public attention is fixed itself
upon the evils and dangers it is likely to entail on the Ameri-
can people, a great and prevailing change was evident to all.
This general and popular agitation may throw up much strife
and delusion, but, nevertheless, error, whose certain fate is
inevitable, will sink and give place to truth.55
The Grand Object of a Republic on Africa's Soil
As Liberians moved to declare their independence in 1847, Teage —
the man who had done more than any to further the process — cited the
26 Burrowes • Summer 1999
planting of "a nation of colored people on the soil of Africa, adorned and
dignified with the attributes of a civilized and Christian community" as
the "grand object which at first brought us to Africa."56 Evident in this
passage is a defining element of 19th century black nationalism as identi-
fied by historian Wilson J. Moses,57 which was a desire for independence
and "absolute control over a specific geographical territory, and sufficient
economic and military power to defend it." As noted by Moses, other
essential features of classical black nationalism include: 1) dissatisfaction
with conditions in the United States; 2) "an invariable belief that the hand
of God directed (the) movement" of blacks; 3) a quickness "to claim an
ancestral connection with Egypt and Ethiopia," while showing "little
enthusiasim for the cultural expressions of sub-Saharan Africa."
Although Teage is said to have made the most important personal
contribution to the "framing and establishment of Liberia," his "national-
ism" always retained a racial dimension, in keeping with its origin in the
American environment. He regarded with anguish the "opprobrious
epithets" and "contempt" meted out by northern blacks against
Liberians.58 Unlike many black leaders in the United States who viewed
emigrants and abolitionists as antagonists, he saw the two communities as
"companions in tribulation" and "co-laborers in different compartments
of one structure." In keeping with Teage's republican aspirations, he
published in 1844 a historical sketch of the Liberian colony in which he
criticized European control over Sierra Leone and called in contrast for
black self-government in Liberia.59
Dissatisfaction with life in the United States is clearly evident in the
Liberian Declaration of Independence — Teage's best known work — which
detailed the American racism that had both shaped his world view and
driven him to Africa, along with other members of the Liberian repatriate
community. It reads in part:
We were everywhere shut out from all civil office.
We were excluded from all participation in the government.
We were taxed without consent.
We were compelled to contribute to the resources of a coun-
try, which gave us no protection.
We were made a separate and distinct class, and against us
every avenue to improvement was effectually closed. Strangers
from all lands of a color different from ours, were preferred
before us.60
Also displayed in the language of this declaration is his skill as a writer, as
evident in the poetic use of repetition, combined with a poignant re-
counting of grievances.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 27
Liberia "Favour'd of God"
Teage's black nationalism was clearly anchored in his religious faith,
specifically a covenant theory of history, which held that "God periodi-
cally chose certain nations to play the role of his chosen people. "6I Just as
American Puritans believed that they had inherited the Biblical covenant
from the Old Testament Israelites, many African Americans, including
Teage, thought the role of God's chosen people had devolved to blacks,
due to the involvement of white Americans in the slave system.62
This theory was evident in his poem "Wake Every Tune," where he
claimed Liberia to be "Favour'd of God."63 The interpenetration of his
religious and political ideas was facilitated by the absence of a firm
division between the secular and sacred in African American cosmology,
which one scholar characterized as one of "the most important links
between African culture and African American Christianity. "64 Writing 19
years before the Civil War culminated in the abolition of slavery, he drew
upon a certainty derived from religious faith in predicting:
The accursed system is tottering to its fall. — All its aiders,
abettors and apologists — all its protecting powers in the New
World — intellectual and brutal, cannot long sustain it against
the advance of liberal and religious principles. The day of
darkness has passed. The hosts are mustering for battle. God
himself is in the midst.65
As Liberians faced the uncertain prospects of independence, Teage
sought to reassure his doubtful compatriots by comparing them to a
group in the Old Testament that had been elected to be saved from the
destruction of an immoral civilization, noting, "Like the wanderers from
Sodom, we shall find it certain death to remain here or to return to the
city. Hope can be indulged only in going forward."66
In their flight from "Sodom," the territory to which many, if not
most, 19th century black nationalists sought to escape was Africa, their
ancestral home and a land to which many retained cultural ties, having
been recently removed. During Teage's childhood in the United States,
blacks still referred to and thought of themselves as "Africans," and the
names they gave to hundreds of churches and other institutions, such as
the African Methodist Episcopal Church, reflected this identification with
the continent of their origin. Similarly, emigration by the Teage family
and others to the area that became Liberia reflected a privileging of
Africa — above such alternative sites as Canada and Haiti. To describe their
mission, supporters of African colonization appropriated the phrase from
28 Burrowes • Summer 1999
Psalm 68 of the Old Testament, "Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethio-
pia shall stretch out her hands unto God."
By appealing to a vision of Africa that was both ancient and awe-
inspiring, Teage also sought to empower his audiences with a sense of
certainty about achieving their collective goals. Speaking one year before
the colony severed its ties to the ACS, he challenged his audience:
And will the descendants of the mighty Pharaohs, that awed
the world — will the sons of him who drove back the serried
legions of Rome and laid siege to the "eternal city" — will they,
the achievements of whose fathers are yet the wonder and
admiration of the world — will they refuse the proffered boon,
and basely cling to the chains of Slavery and dependence?
Never! never!! never!!!67
Similarly, his poem "Land of the Mighty Dead" employed references to a
more glorious and orderly African past to inspire action toward self-
government by his contemporaries:68
Land of the mighty dead! Here science once displayed, And
art, their charms; Here awful Pharaohs swayed Great nations
who obeyed, Here distant monarchs laid Their vanquished
They hold us in survey, They cheer us on our way They loud
proclaim — From Pyramidal hall — From Carnac's sculptured
wall — From Thebes they loudly call — Retake your fame!
Teage regarded those indigenous societies then engaged in the slave
trade to be debased, fallen from a higher state. The involvement of several
African chiefs in the slave trade notwithstanding, he was against the
expropriation of land from them without just compensation.69 As noted
in his poem "Wake Every Tuneful String," the independence of Liberia
was but the harbinger of a return for all Africa to an earlier state of
freedom:
Shout the loud Jubilee Afric once more is free
Break forth with joy;
Let Nile's fettered tongue, Let Niger's join the song, And
Congo's loud and long
Glad strains employ70
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 29
Since all humanity had contributed to "civilization," Teage reasoned,
all could aspire to partake of its offerings, including indigenous Africans,
whose religious and cultural conversion he justified as a racial duty.71 The
pan-racial element in his thinking led him to welcome indigenous
Africans into the polity, but his commitment to Christianity and republi-
canism made him critical of those African customs linked to servile
Challenged Some African Social Practices, Enjoyed Others
For example, he regarded the status of women, trial by ordeal and
some other features of contemporaneous African societies as morally
reprehensible and requiring change, if not excision.72 Toward other
features of African culture, he maintained a non-judgmental attitude, a
display of relativism that was rare in the 19th century. He took to eating
local cuisine,73 sent a suit made from African cotton cloth for display at an
industrial fair in New York,74 and found African hospitality and several
cultural practices worthy of praise.71 For a Baptist minister, he adopted a
surprising moral indifference toward conjuring,76 which he was able to
describe without denunciation, perhaps conditioned by previous exposure
to similar practices in Virginia.77
Teage's works highlight the significant role of Southern blacks in the
forging of black nationalism — a position advanced by social historians
Eugene Genovese, Sterling Stuckey and others.78 His writings also support
the argument of Moses that "classical black nationalism brought together
the apparently contradictory ideas of cultural assimilation and geopolitical
separatism." According to Moses, who has done more than any other
scholar to historicize the subject, racial consciousness among African
Americans was in its "protonationalist" phase from the late 1770s to
1830, then entered its classical nationalist expression in the years from
1850 to 1925.79
Given this periodization, Teage was one of the earliest black nation-
alists, working as he did between 1830 and 1850. Paradoxically, the racial
ideology he articulated helped give rise to a narrow Liberian nationalism
and, through the efforts of his protege Edward Wilmot Blyden (1832-
1912), to an all-encompassing pan-Africanism.80 Twenty-seven years
Blydens senior, Teage had employed the younger man as his clerk while
serving as secretary of state and Herald editor, positions which Blyden
would eventually come to occupy81 Teage's mentoring role calls into
question a historical chronology that credits the ideas of Blyden as being
"the most important historical progenitor of pan-Africanism."82
30 Burrowes • Summer 1999
During the 19th century, Teage's reputation and ideas reverberated
deeply in Liberia and broadly across the Atlantic. While he was editor, the
Herald maintained a small but continuous circulation in the United
States, through a network of business associates and pro-colonization
agents, including William Crane, the white Baptist businessman who had
guided his early education.83 In addition, his writings were regularly
reprinted in the African Repository, published monthly by the American
Colonization Society in Washington, DC, and in the bi-monthly Mary-
land Colonization Journal of Baltimore. In 1848, one of his speeches,
along with an address by radical abolitionist Henry Highland Garnet of
New York, was included in a booklet published in London that was
intended to refute the "calumny" that blacks were incapable of higher
education.84
When Teage died on May 21 , 1853, after a long and painful ill-
ness,85 his passing was noted by Frederick Douglass Paper *b which had
been a worthy adversary to the colonization cause over the years, but not
to those individuals who had opted to emigrate. A Herald correspondent
reported the passing of "the chiefest luminary in our political sky," and
said that through Teage "the melancholy spirit of every Liberian was raised
from deep despair to hope."87 A letter from Liberia reporting the closing
of his meteoric career noted, "A great star has fallen in this Republic."88
Committed to Modernism & Black Nationalism
From the lowest run of Virginia slave society, Hilary Teage emigrated
to Liberia, where he became a successful merchant, Baptist pastor, elected
official and influential editor. Although lacking a formal education, his
writings showed a deep commitment to an emerging modernism, in the
form of republican politics, literary romanticism and epistemological
empiricism. Also evident in his writings were the hallmarks of 19th
century black nationalism, from criticisms of America for failing to extend
republican liberties to blacks, through a covenant theology that confi-
dently assumed God to be "in the midst" of the struggle against slavery, to
evocative images of Ancient Egypt meant to inspire and empower his
audiences.
In elaborating what was a racially based ideology, he channeled it
into both a specifically Liberian nationalism and a broader pan-
Africanism. By campaigning relentlessly through the Liberia Herald,
which he edited for 1 5 years, this former slave helped to achieve his
"grand object," which was the creation of a "nation of colored people on
the soil of Africa."
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 3 1
Endnotes
'"The Late Hilary Teage, of Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 71.
:P. J. Staudenraus, The African Colonization Movement, 1816-1865 (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1961).
'The original towns and their populations were: Bassa Cove, 52; Edina, 67; Marshall, 68;
Monrovia, 463; Sinoe, 40; Bexley, 50; Caldwell, 138; Millsburg, 95; and New Georgia, 121; see C.
Abayomi Cassell, Liberia: History of the First Afiican Republic (New York: Fountainhead Publishers,
1970), 103, 1 1 1-12, 250, 264, and U. S. Senate, U. S. Navy Department, Tables Showing the Number
of Emigrants and Recaptured Africans Sent to the Colony of Liberia by the Government of the United States
... Together with a Census of the Colony of Liberia and a Report of its Commerce, &c. September, 1843,
Senate Document No. 1 50, 28th Congress, 2d session (Washington, DC: Government Printing
Office, 1845).
''For black literary and organizational activities of the antebellum era, see R. J. M. Blackett, Building
an Antislavery Wall (Cornell University Press, 1 983); James Oliver Horton, Free People of Color
(Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institute Press, 1993); M. E. Dunn, The Black Press, 1827-1890
(New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1972).
^"Reward of Merit," Maryland Colonization journal, August 1846, 220-221; Cassell, Liberia.
''Africa's Luminary, a semi-monthly newspaper published by the Methodist Episcopal Mission in
Monrovia from 1839 to 1841; Vols. 1-3(15 March 1839-17 December 1841) original in Yale
Divinity School Library; microfilm produced for the American Theological Library Association Board
of Microtext, Chicago, by Dept. of Photoduplication, University of Chicago Library, 1970; 1 reel, 35
mm; the African Repository, the monthly journal of the ACS, published from 1825 to 1892, vols. 1-68
(March 1825-January 1892) available on microfilm from University Microfilms, Ann Arbor,
Michigan; Vols. 1-25 known as the African Repository and Colonial Journal; Vol. 1 0 contains an index
to Vols. 1-10; the American Colonization Society Annual Report, 1 8 1 8- 1 908/ 1 0, with a reprint
available from Negro University Press, New York, 1969; Liberia Herald, a bi-monthly newspaper
published by the colonial government from 1830 to 1839, when it reverted to private ownership,
available in the following locations: Library Company of Philadelphia (15 February 1830; 3 May
1843) Library of Congress (6 April 1830; 6 June 1830; 22 April 1831; 22 June 1831; 22 July 1831;
22 February 1832; 7 June 1832; 1 August 1833; 4 September 1833; 20 November 1833; 24
December 1833; 24 January 1834; 24 February 1834; 7 June 1834; 27 December 1834; Oct., 1839)
and Maryland Colonization Society Papers (24 January 1844; 30 March 1844; 24 January 1845; 15-
31 March 1845; 31 May 1845; 5 September 1845; 7-28 November 1845; 3-17 July 1846; 1 January
1847; 5 March 1847; 2 April 1847; 4 June - 30 July 1847; 26 August-17 December 1847); and the
Maryland Colonization Journal, a monthly journal published in Baltimore, Maryland, from May
1835-May 1841; new series, June 1841-May 1861; available in the papers of the Maryland
Colonization Society (an auxiliary of the ACS), on microfilm reels 28-29 from Scholarly Resources,
Wilmington, Delaware; 31 rolls of 35mm, with guide..
7Randall M. Miller, ed., Dear Master: Letters of a Slave Family (Athens, Georgia: University of
Georgia, 1991); Bell I. Wiley, ed., Slaves No More: Letters from Liberia, 1833-1869 (Lexington: The
University Press of Kentucky, 1980).
""Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 15 March 1845, 46.
'"'The Late Hilary Teage, of Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, October 1853, 72.
"These include "The Proceedings of the Liberia Providence Baptist Association," which, according
to the Africa's Luminary, 19 April 1839, was a recently published pamphlet that contained a pastoral
address by him, along with the proceedings of the Liberia Providence Baptist Association Conventions
of 1837 and 1838.
"The eight most important collections were the American Colonization Society Papers, Manuscript
Division, Library of Congress (also available on microfilm through the Library of Congress,
Photoduplication Service, Washington, DC; 331 reels); Rare Book and Special Collections Division,
Library of Congress; Library Company of Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Historical Society
of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Maryland Colonization Society Papers, Maryland
Historical Society, Baltimore; Library of Virginia Archives, Richmond; Virginia Historical Society,
Richmond; and the Southern Baptist Historical Library and Archives, Nashville.
l2James Carey, "The Problem of Journalism History," in Eve Stryker Munson and Catherine A.
Warren, eds., James Carey: A Critical Reader (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1997), 86-
94, especially p. 89.
32 Burrowes • Summer 1999
l3Janet M. Cramer, Woman as Citizen: Race, Class, and the Discourse of Women's Citizenship, 1894-
1909. Journalism & Mass Communication Monograph, no. 165 (Columbia, S. G: Association for
Education in Journalism & Mass Communication, 1998), 13.
'■•John C. Miller, The Wolf by the Ear: Thomas Jejferson and Slavery (New York: The Free Press,
1977); also Joyce Appleby, Capitalism and a New Social Order: The Republican Vision of the 1790s
(New York: New York University Press, 1984), 102; Winthrop D. Jordan, White Over Black: Attitudes
Toward the Negro, 1550-1812 (New York: Pelican, 1971), 429-481; Robert McColley, Slavery and
Jejfersonian Virginia (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1973); Ira Berlin and Ronald Hoffman, Slavery
and Freedom in the Age of the American Revolution (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1986).
,5For black nationalism generally, see Wilson J. Moses, Classical Black Nationalism: From the
American Revolution to Marcus Garvey (New York: New York University, 1996), 41, 5, 36 n. 2; also
John H. Bracey, Jr., August Meier, and Elliott M. Rudwick, eds., Black Nationalism in America
(Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1970); E. U. Essien-Udon, Black Nationalism: A Search for an Identity in
America (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962); Eugene D. Genovese, Roll, Jordan, Roll: The
World the Slaves Made (New York, Vintage, 1976), xv; Sterling Stuckey, Slave Culture: Nationalist
Theory and the Foundations of Black America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 3-97.
"'"Letter from Mr. Teage to Hon. S. Wilkeson dated Monrovia, 10 December 1840," African
Repository, 5 March 1841, 95.
l7Imanuel Geiss, The Pan-African Movement (New York: Homes and Meier, 1974).
'"Clifford Geertz, "Ideology as a Cultural System," in David Apter, ed., Ideology and Discontent
(New York: Free Press, 1964), 47-76.
'''"William Crane to the Rev. O. B. Brown, 28 March 1819," in J. B. Taylor, Biography of Elder Lott
Cary, late Missionary to Africa (Baltimore: Armstrong and Berry, 1837), 17-18.
2"United States Census Office, Fourth Census of the United States (Washington, DC, 1820), Roll
#132,95,98.
2 'Ralph R. Gurley, TheLifeoffehudiAshmun (James C. Dunn, 1835), 147-148; Taylor, Biography
of Elder, 13, 19.
"Philip Slaughter, The Virginia History of African Colonization (Richmond: 1855); John H. Russell,
The Free Negro in Virginia, 1619-1865 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1913), 73; Marie Tyler-
McGraw, "Richmond Free Blacks and African Colonization, 1816-1832," Journal of American Studies
(Great Britain) 21 (2): 207-224, especially p. 217; D. R. Egerton, "'Its Origin is Not a Little Curious':
A New Look at the American Colonization Society," Journal of the Early Republic 5 (1985): 463-480.
23Tom W. Shick, Emigrants to Liberia: 1820 to 1843: An Alphabetical Listing (Newark, DE:
University of Delaware, 1971), 96.
24Taylor, 19. For the role of Crane in Hilary's education, see William A. Poe, "Not Christopolis but
Christ and Caesar: Baptist Leadership in Liberia," Journal of Church and State, 23 (3): 535-551,
especially p. 538.
2>Tyler-McGraw, "Richmond Free Blacks," 213; Marie Tyler-McGraw, "'The Prize I Mean is the
Prize of Liberty': A Loudon County Family in Liberia," Virginia Magazine of History and Biography,
97 (1989), 355-374; Virginius Dabney, Richmond: The Story of a City (Garden City, N. Y: Doubleday
and Co., 1990), 77.
26Dwight N. Syfert, "The Origins of Privilege," Liberian Studies Journal 6 (Fall 1975), 109-128;
Dwight N. Syfert, "A History of the Liberian Coasting Trade, 1821-1900" (Indiana University, Ph.
D. dissertation, 1977), 280-281; Robert W. July, The Origins of Modern African Thought (New York:
Praeger, 1967), 96.
27Syfert, "The Origin of Privilege," 1 14-6, 126-7; Syfert, "A History of the Liberian Coasting
Trade," 271, 280-281, 283; July, The Origins of Modern African Thought, 93-100, especially p. 96.
2S"The Election," Africa's Luminary, 3 Jan. 1840; Syfert, "A History of the Liberian Coasting Trade,"
280-281; Edith Holden, Blyden of Liberia (New York: Vantage, 1966), 36. According to an author
who worked at the Liberian State Department and had full access to official records, Teage also served
as the country's first secretary of that department; see Nathaniel Richardson, Liberia's Past and Present
(London: Diplomatic Press, 1959), 59, n *.
"'"The Lyceum and the Lectures" and "For Africa's Luminary: The Liberia Lyceum," Africa's
Luminary, 7 Aug. 1840, 38-39; Tom W Shick, "Rhetoric and Reality: Colonization and Afro-
American Missionaries in Early Nineteenth-Century Liberia," in Sylvia Jacobs, Black Americans and
the Missionary Movement in Africa (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1982), 162, n. 50; Wiley, 29-30,
Letter 15.
Summer 1999 •American Journalism 33
"'"The Late Hilary Teage, of Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 71-72.
""Death in Liberia," Mary/and Colonization Journal, 1853, 47.
,:"Death of Hon. Hillary Teage," Maryland Colonization Journal 1853, 47.
"Edward W. Blyden to William Coppinger, 3 June 1878, in Lynch, Selected Letters, 270.
'"'"Additions to the Baptist Churches in the last Five Months," African Repository, August 1848,
234; Poe, 535-551.
■"Antonio Gramsci, Prison Note/wok (New York: International Publishers, 1973), 5-23.
""The Late Hilary Teage, of Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 71.
,7"The Late Hilary Teage, of Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 72.
"For the role of John B. Russwurm in Liberian politics and the events that led to his resignation as
editor of the Liberia Herald, see Carl Patrick Burrowes, "Press Freedom in Liberia, 1830-1847: The
Impact of Heterogeneity and Modernity," Journalism and Mass Communication Quarterly 74, 2
(1997): 331-347.
■'''"From the Liberia Herald," Africa's Luminary, 18 Oct. 1839.
■"'A unit of measure in Nineteenth Century Liberia that was equivalent to six imperial gallons of 3
kg-
"'"An African Editor," Liberia Herald, 17 March 1842, 19.
"'Geoffrey Tillotson, Paul Fussell and Marshall Waingrow, Eighteenth-Century English Literature
(New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1969), 18.
"'"Address Delivered Before the Liberia Lyceum, in the Council Chamber on May 21, 1845,"
Liberia Herald, 31 May 1845, 9-10.
''''"Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 26 Nov. 1842, 8; "A Conjurer and Conjuration," Liberia HeralA,
3 July 1846, 70.
45"Republican Legislature," Liberia Herald, 29 Dec. 1849, 10. Although Teage used only last names,
these writers were probably intended, given their popularity at the time.
"''Hilary Teage to R. R. Gurley, Monrovia, 20 March 1839, ACS Papers.
"7Stephen Cornford, Edward Young "Night Thoughts" (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1989), ix; also Russell Noyes, English Romantic Poetry and Prose (New York: Oxford University Press,
1967), xxiii. For a reference by Teage to "Night Thought," see "Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 1 Jan.
1847, 22-23. According to Corntord, Young's "Night Thoughts" was not only "one of the most
influential, praised and well known poems of the English language" during the nineteenth century,
but it was also revered by some Christians as a "standard devotional work," second only to the Bible.
"""Anniversary Speech," Liberia Herald, 18 December 1846, 17-18, and "Anniversary Speech
(continued)," Liberia HeralA, 5 February 1847, 29-30.
4''For examples, see "Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 21 Jan. 1843, 1 1, and "The Luminary,"
Liberia Herald, 11 February 1843.
"In the nineteenth century, "cassado" a common spelling of cassava, the root of a shrubby tropical
plant that is a staple food in parts of Liberia and many areas of the tropics.
5l"An African Editor," Liberia Herald, 17 March 1842, 19.
52AJvin Sullivan, ed., British Literary Magazines: The Romantic Age, 1789-1836 (Westport, Conn.:
Greenwood, 1983), 424-433; Richard A. Schwarzlose, Newspapers: A Reference Guide (Westport,
Conn.: Greenwood, 1987).
""Liberia Herald," African Repository, April 1837, 131-132.
""Our Affairs," Liberia Herald, 18 Dec. 1846, 19.
""Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 7 Nov. 1847.
"[Hilary Teage,] "The Liberia Herald with Regard to Independence," Thirteenth Annual Report of
theACS,\S47,2l.
57 Moses, 1-42. For the religious foundation of black nationalism, see Genovese, 280-284;
""The Weekly Elevator," Liberia Herald, 30 March 1844, 2; also Hilary Teage to the Rev. J. B.
Pinney, Monrovia, 27 August 1852, printed in ACS Annual Report, January 1853, 17-18.
""Death of Hon. Hillary Teage," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 47; Hilary Teage, "The
Colony of Liberia [Part I]," African Repository, September 1844, 257-61; "Hilary Teage, "The Colony
of Liberia [Part 2]," African Repository, January 1845, 13-17.
34 Burrowes • Summer 1999
''"Republic of Liberia, The Independent Republic of Liberia: Its Constitution and Declaration of
Independence ... Issued Chiefly for Use by the Free People of Color. (Philadelphia: William F. Geddes,
1848).
'''Michael Lienesch, New Order of the Ages: Time, the Constitution and the Making of Modem
American Political Thought (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988), 197.
''-Poe, 535-551; C. Eric Lincoln and Lawrence H. Mamiya, The Black Church in the African-
American Experience (Durham: Duke University Press, 1990), 22.
''•'"Wake Every Tuneful String," Liberia Herald, 26 August 1847, 76.
''"Donald G. Mathews, Religion in the Old South (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1977), 190.
""The Weekly Elevator," Liberia Herald, 30 March 1844, 2.
''''"Address Delivered Before the Liberia Lyceum: Liberia Herald, 31 May 1845, 9-10.
'^"Anniversary Speech, December 1st, 1846," Liberia Herald, 18 December 1846, 17-18, and
Liberia Herald, 4 February 1847, 29-30.
''""Land of the Mighty Dead," Liberia Herald, 23 December 1842, 8. This poem was reprinted as
"Specimen of Liberian Poetry," Aflican Repository, June 1843, 191-192, and Maryland Colonization
journal, July 1843, 32, with the note, "sung to the tune 'Bermondsey'."
M" Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 16 October 1846, 2.
7""Wake Every Tuneful String," Liberia Herald, 26 August 1847, 76; reprinted in Afiican Repository,
February 1848, 58.
7le. g., "Internal Improvement," Liberia Herald, 3 May 1843, 25.
7:" Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 30 September 1843, 31; "Tender Mercies or Heathenism,"
Liberia Herald, 30 September 1843, 31;
7-'See various references to "cassado" as part of his cuisine in "An African Editor," Liberia HeralA, 17
March 1842, 19; "Hard Times," Liberia Herald, 31 May 1845, 1 1; "Scarcity," Liberia Herald, 4 June
1847, 62.
7"HilaryTeage to R. R. Gurley, Monrovia, 12 April 1839, ACS Papers.
75"A Beautiful Custom," Liberia Herald, 28 July 1 848, 38; "Excursion," Liberia Herald, 19 April
1842, 22; "African Belief," Liberia Herald, 30 March 1844.
7''"A Conjurer and Conjuration," Liberia Herald, 3 July 1846, 70.
77For information on conjuring among Virginia blacks, see Charles L. Perdue, Jr., Thomas E.
Barden and Robert K. Phillips, eds., Weevils in the Wheat: Interviews with Virginia Ex-Slaves
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1976); Mechal Sobel, The World They Made Together: Black and
White Values in Eighteenth-Century Virginia (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987), 41-43, 338.
7fiGenovese, xv; Stuckey, 3-97.
7''Moses, 2.
""For the black nationalist antecedents of pan-Africanism and of African micro nationalisms, see
Hollis R. Lynch, Edward Wilmot Blyden: Pan-Negro Patriot, 1832-1912 (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1970); Henry S. Wilson, Origitis of West African Nationalism (New York: St. Martin's, 1969).
For Teage's contribution to African thought, see July, The Origins of Modern Afiican Thought, 85-109.
*' Lynch, Edward Wilmot Blyden, 492. For Blyden's invocation of a poem byTeage during a visit to
the pyramids in Egypt, see Holden, Blyden of Liberia, 141.
SJLynch, Edward Wilmot Blyden, 251; also Holden, Blyden of Liberia; Hollis R. Lynch, Selected
Letters of 'Edward Wilmot Blyden (Millwood, N. J.: KTO Press, 1978).
"William Crane, Esq., served for several years as the agent of the Herald in Baltimore, Maryland (e.
g., "From the Liberia Herald," Liberia Herald, 18 October 1839, and "Agents for the Liberia Herald,"
Liberia Herald, 28 February 1849).
"4E. Wilson Armistead, Calumny Refuted by Facts from Liberia (London: 1848).
s5Two years before his death, he ended a letter to an ACS official with "I now close, by soliciting an
interest in your prayers. Yours, in affliction" (HilaryTeage to J. B. Pinney, Monrovia, May 17, 1851,
printed in African Repository, September 1851, 269).
"'"Frederick Douglass' Paper, 3 June 1853.
"7Daniel B. Warner, "Letter to the Editor," Liberia Herald, 15 June 1853, 86.
"""Death in Liberia," Maryland Colonization Journal, 1853, 47.
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 35
36 Summer 1999
Women's Moral Reform Periodicals
of the 19th Century: A Cultural
Feminist Analysis of The Advocate
By Therese L. Lueck
A publication staffed and produced entirely by women for nearly a
century, The Advocate, the national publication of the female moral reform
movement, brings women's journalism more fully into the assessment of
national journalistic traditions. This analysis ofThe Advocate situates
women's reform periodicals at the forefront of cultural feminist intellectual
history. Cultural feminist theory enables The Advocate to be seen as a forum
for a national dialogue ofivomen's worth. This perspective also foregrounds
consideration of the values derived from women's culture that The Advocate
used in retraining prostitutes to become composers and typesetters on the
publication.
On filthy city streets where women sold their bodies and the
urban poor struggled to survive, 19th century evangelical
Protestant women saw a corrupt society in desperate need
of reform. Compelled by missionary zeal, these white upper-middle class
women banded together to, quite literally, clean up American society. The
messengers for this moral crusade were the 19th century female reform
periodicals, which enabled these women to boldly broaden their domestic
sphere of influence to encompass society at large.
The New York Female Moral Reform Society was founded in the
1830s, a time known as the "Second Great Awakening" when "a
millennial spirit pervaded efforts at transforming United States society,"
Therese L. Lueck is Associate Professor in the School of Communication at the University of
Akron.
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 37
and reformers "sought not merely social change but spiritual transforma-
tion, the moral regeneration of the world."1 The society started what was
to become the national reform periodical, The Advocate,1 during this
period. From the mid- 19th to the mid-20th century, The Advocate was the
foremost messenger in the crusade for moral reform. ' This magazine had
two specific missions: to convert prostitutes and to publicize incidents of
sexual assault. It did not put blame on women for prostitution. Rather, it
laid a full measure of responsibility on the men who had seduced the
women in the first place and on the adulterers who kept prostitution
thriving. The Advocate also educated children against becoming either
victims or perpetrators of immoral behavior.
This study situates women's reform periodicals at the forefront of the
19th century cultural feminist tradition so that they can better claim their
place in American feminist intellectual history. Relying on analysis of the
national female reform periodical The Advocate as women's culture, this
research is an attempt to more fully incorporate these periodicals into
journalism history so that their influence and impact can be further
assessed in the development of national journalistic traditions.
Examining Female Practices and Values
Theorist Josephine Donovan has proposed that cultural feminism,
"the second major tradition of 19th-century feminist theory," may be an
appropriate theoretical framework for an examination of female reform
societies and their publications.4 Whereas liberal feminism, seen as the
19th century's first feminist theoretical tradition, is the feminist theory
most often employed in examining US media, it is not the most useful
perspective for analyzing these types of periodicals. While these magazines
did advocate some legislative reforms and rights for women, the typical
indicators recognized by liberal feminism as progress, these aspects were
not the focus of the social vision that guided moral reform publications.
That mission was to reform prostitutes and shelter, educate, and train
homeless women and children.
Liberal feminist theory's inheritance from liberal political theory is
its blindness to the homefront, community building, and traditional
women's organizing, which causes it to be a less than adequate theoretical
perspective for examination of these magazines as women's culture. Liberal
feminism's dual emphases on the individual and equality define a perspec-
tive that, when applied to these reformers and their work, does not enable
viewing them as feminist or their activism as important.
Cultural feminism is a form of feminist separatism that seeks to set
women's culture apart so that a separate set of female values and practices
38 Lueck* Summer 1999
can be nurtured within that women-centered space. Historian Alice
Echols noted that cultural feminists operate within patriarchal boundaries
to positively equate women with culturally defined female traits and that
in particular "cultural feminists wish to establish a female standard of
sexuality."5 Researcher Linda Alcoff stated that cultural feminist theory is
"grounded securely and unambiguously on the concept of the essential
female,"6 or that the ideology of a cultural feminist theoretical perspective
relies on biologically determined sex difference. On top of that, Echols
noted that cultural feminism is "committed to preserving rather than
challenging gender differences."7 The theory does not question the
cultural positioning of femininity in opposition to masculinity as gender
description. However, recognizing that patriarchy has described feminin-
ity in restrictive terms in order to define the nature of masculinity as
dominant, cultural feminists have adopted those very terms and used
them to redefine femaleness in order to empower women.
Donovan noted that contemporary cultural feminists exhibit their
intellectual heritage by espousing the view that a "women's political value
system may be derived from traditional women's culture and applied to
the public realm." However, she maintained, "Contemporary feminists
are more aware of the need to systematize cultural feminist ideology . . .
than were their 19th-century predecessors who . . . tended to feel that
pacifist and reformist attitudes were inherent in women's nature." She
pointed to the importance of the cultural feminist intellectual tradition,
stating, "Cultural feminism remains one of the most important traditions
of feminist theory, if somewhat more sophisticated in form and political
consciousness today than in the 19th century."8
Echols observed that "by equating feminism with the so-called
reassertion of a female identity and culture, cultural feminism seems to
promise an immediate solution to women's powerlessness in the culture at
large."9 Using the activism of the second-wave feminists of the latter 20th
century as an example, Echols acknowledged that "cultural feminism has
succeeded in mobilizing feminists . . . however fragile the alliance."10
Radical feminist Jo Freeman charted the emergence of latter 20th century
cultural feminism as "an attempt to identify and extol what women had in
common, to put substance on the concept of sisterhood. It became a
celebration of all things female without concern for whether these things
came from hormones, socialization, or social status. As had happened
earlier in the prior woman movement, difference between the sexes was
elevated to a primary principle with female characteristics claiming the
moral edge."" Such conscious defining of this theory in the late 20th
century has enabled historical researchers to identify its earlier emergence.
Summer 1999 •American Journalism 39
Women As Morally Superior
Researcher Barbara Berg has traced the roots of American feminism
to the 19th century women's volunteer societies.12 Such an observation
recognized the boldness of these women and their social activism, includ-
ing the publication and distribution of their periodicals. But such a
feminist tracing has tended to beg the question: Did their activism enable
these women to transcend their traditional sphere, which has been defined
as the "Cult of True Womanhood"13 ? Contradictions have emerged when
a liberal feminist lens has been used to examine these women, their
reforms, and their publications.
In reflecting the female moral reform movement itself, the leading
periodical, The Advocate, presented what researcher Mary Ryan viewed as
contradictory tendencies. While it exposed the double standard of sexual
morality, it also "reveled in portraying the . . . 19th-century stereotype of
'true womanhood."'4 Historian Carroll Smith-Rosenberg postulated that
female reformers were able to effectively expand their influence beyond
the domestic sphere by carrying with them the authority bestowed them
by virtue of this "Cult of True Womanhood."15 The belief in the essential
difference between women and men and that women's inherent moral
superiority resided in that difference situated these 19th century reformers
at a formative stage of the American cultural feminist tradition. These
beliefs guided their vision of reform, which went "beyond the fundamen-
tally rationalist and legalistic thrust of Enlightenment liberal theory.
Instead of focusing on political change, feminists holding these ideas look
for a broader cultural transformation."16
In her feminist reconstruction of Victorian America, Smith-
Rosenberg observed: "We turned to women's religious enthusiasm, tracing
the influence of millennial religion on women's reform activities and role
expansion. Some women who held back from self-conscious feminism, we
discovered, had nevertheless assumed innovative roles as urban philan-
thropists, public-health advocates, opponents of child labor."17 Crediting
Margaret Fuller with initiating cultural feminist theory, Donovan traced
its intellectual tradition from Romanticism and, more directly, from
American Transcendentalism, a movement that relied on the superiority
of intuition over reason.18 The work of the reformers in the dirty city
streets was anything but romantic; however, their romantic vision for
cultural transformation worked as a sustaining optimism as these women
ventured into the depths of the cities to bring forth forgotten women.
Drawing a distinction between feminism and women's rights, Berg
stated that The Advocate "continuously and explicitly refuted the tradi-
tional role assigned to antebellum women and urged a feminist critique of
40 Lueck • Summer 1999
society."19 Female moral reform publications did not dwell on equal rights
for women, but more than a decade earlier than the 1848 Seneca Falls
Convention,20 moral reform societies were advocating that women
enlarge their sphere of influence to encompass more of the public realm.
Smith-Rosenberg has credited the moral reform movement with being the
forerunner of the woman's rights movement in the United States. "Both
groups found women's traditionally passive role intolerable. Both wished
to assert female worth and values in a heretofore entirely male world.
Both welcomed the creation of a sense of feminine loyalty and sisterhood
that could give emotional strength and comfort to women isolated within
their homes .... And it can hardly be assumed that the demand for votes
for women was appreciably more radical than a moral absolutism which
encouraged women to invade bordellos, befriend harlots, and publicly
discuss rape, seduction, and prostitution."21
Liberal feminism, which has driven feminist media research in the
latter 20th century, necessarily views female reformers and their work as a
contradiction. Such dichotomy once defined by a theoretical perspective
becomes a closed argument. In this case, liberal feminism has circled back
on itself instead of advancing feminist discussion and theoretical develop-
ment. Liberal feminism's inability to provide a sense-making frame for
women's culture and traditions causes it to be an inadequate theoretical
tool for the examination of moral reform magazines. Cultural feminism
provides a perspective that dissolves the contradiction Ryan noted,
resolving the perceived dichotomy between domestic and public action
that a liberal feminist perspective only exacerbates.
The researchers here reviewed have recognized many of the contribu-
tions of 19th century female reform societies, and at least one of them has
noted that these accomplishments would be more evident when examined
from a cultural feminist perspective. However, in general, there has been a
lack of scholarly consideration of these women, their societies, and their
publications. The accepted classification of moral reform as falling outside
the feminist movement has pushed these 19th century reformers into the
margins of feminist intellectual history, minimizing the recognition of
their impact on feminist theoretical development. Since moral reform
periodicals have been considered outside the prevailing feminist theoreti-
cal framework, they have not been defined as feminist publications and
therefore have not received the scholarly attention that they deserve. The
lack of a cohesive body of feminist analysis of moral reform publications
has marginalized the importance of these early women-driven periodicals
in the history of American journalism.
Journalism historian Susan Henry cited The Advocate as an excellent
example of "the journalism produced by the women who lived and
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 41
believed most fervently in the values" of women's culture, a sphere
separate from the men's, in which women "developed shared, female-
identified values, rituals, relationships, and modes of communication that
were sources of satisfaction and strength." She called for further research:
" The Advocate is waiting to be studied by a journalism historian who can
analyze it within the context of women's culture of the period."22 Consid-
eration of the publications and the culture that produced them may be
enabled by the shift of feminist perspective proposed with this study in its
analysis of The Advocate.
Launched by New York Female Reformers
The roots of the Advocate begin with a group of women who
followed the teachings of missionary John McDowall. In 1832, McDowall
had issued a controversial report on the need for the reform of New York
society. In spite of the public censure McDowall incurred because of these
pronouncements, the women sought further inspiration in the revivals of
theologian and reformer Charles G. Finney and formed their own society,
the New York Female Moral Reform Society, on May 12, 1834. 23 In the
fall of 1834, the society voted to purchase McDowalTs Journal and
"transform it into a national women's paper with an exclusively female
staff."24 The journal was launched in 1835 as The Advocate of Moral
Reform.
Among their first efforts was the commencement of a periodi-
cal, whose design was to exalt the law of God, and thus
prevent its violation — to guard the domestic hearth from the
invasion of the Spoiler, thus preventing the fall of the inno-
cent; and, as far as practicable, to produce such a reform in
the public sentiment, that the morally debased should be . . .
made to feel that access to the favor of the virtuous could only
be secured by being pure in heart.25
The Advocate was the national female moral reform periodical, but it
was by no means the only women's publication dedicated to these causes.
While the New York Female Moral Reform Society was repositioning
itself as the national organization and renaming itself the American
Female Moral Reform Society, the New England Female Moral Reform
Society began its publication, The Friend of Virtue.26 As a regional society,
the New England society had the potential to pull members from a
national society and to divert subscribers from the newly national maga-
zine. Although The Advocate recognized The Friend of Virtue as competi-
42 Lueck* Summer 1999
tion for subscribers — and its society as competition for members — it
viewed the publication as a sister in the cause of social reform. "The
formation of the New England Moral Reform Society (a sister enterprise
that sustains a periodical — is doing much good, and worthy the encour-
agement of all friends of Reform) has tended to lessen the number of the
New England subscribers and Auxiliaries, but we believe they are still
efficient in the cause, and therefore the early bond remains unchanged."27
As the nationally circulated periodical, The Advocate was essential to
the outreach mission of the reform society, which noted that without its
journal "there is every reason to believe the usefulness of the Society
would have been greatly circumscribed, perhaps . . . wholly suspended ....
The sole aim of all its publications has been to carry out a specific object
of the Society [:] the formation of a correct public sentiment, relative to
the prevention of vice, the discharge of Christian duty in meeting the
claims of the young, friendless, destitute and exposed, and the obligations
of the family to extend its guardianship and moral influence over those
within its reach."28 Impassioned by their cause to reform society's morals,
these women created The Advocate to extend their influence beyond their
domestic sphere.
Subtle Subversion of Religious Hierarchy
The cause of moral reform hinged on the Seventh Commandment,
or the admonition against committing adultery.29 Yet controversy sur-
rounded how publicly adultery should be discussed. Women's frustration
with the taboo against discussing this subject was a recurring theme in the
publications. For example, one article cited a conversation between a
woman and her niece that attributed the aunt's disdain of her minister to
his refusal to preach on the Seventh Commandment.30 This hesitancy of
ministers to preach against adultery was widespread. Although moral
reform was a subject ministers were not addressing from the pulpit, lay
efforts were objected to as "promiscuous exhibition."31
The Advocate, however, boldly spoke out about matters ministers
hesitated to address, subtly subverting the organized religious hierarchy.
Because of the controversial nature of their subject, editors felt con-
strained to defend their publications, noting that the facts they provided
were "calculated to show the terrible consequences of the sin of licentious-
ness."32 Reform advocates found themselves consistently called on to
rationalize their mission and contextualize the discourse of their publica-
tions. "Moral Reform we regard as a broad subject .... Consequently the
details of vice, and what is technically called Moral Reform, include but a
small portion of the topics presented to our readers."33
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 43
Those who took objection to activism against adultery argued that
adultery was not an appropriate topic for public discussion, much less by
women. With its connotations of adultery and prostitution, the phrase
"moral reform" was considered to impart particular vulgarity when used
by women. The editors of these publications were women. In addition to
addressing socially sensitive material, editing publications was not a
culturally accepted occupation for women, so they felt compelled to put
themselves forward as ladies. " The Advocate is, as it professes to be,
EXCLUSIVELY under the direction of the American Female Moral
Reform Society — it is edited entirely by a lady."34 Despite defining
themselves as "ladies," these women were not given to euphemism and
did not shirk from addressing social problems in a straightforward
manner not found anywhere else in cultural discourse. However, when it
was determined that the term "moral reform" was discouraging financial
contributors as well as magazine subscribers, the phrase was dropped from
the title of the national publication and its society.
The Advocate was able to foster a national network among women
activists who otherwise would have operated in isolated pockets or given
up altogether. Sister associations used The Advocate as their forum. One
group's sentiment typified the ostracism of women who publicly broached
issues of rape, incest, or prostitution: "As a society of a little band of
females, we are surrounded by discouragements; we have not the hearty
co-operation of our ministers .... We regard The Advocate as well
calculated to enlighten and instruct and believe it may be, in many
instances, the monitor and protector of the unwary and innocent."35
Women readers also looked to these periodicals for advice. In the New
England periodical, one woman wrote that when she was young a "pre-
tended gentleman" turned out to be a stalker. If not for the warnings and
the identification of this type of behavior in the Friend of Virtue, she
wondered "what would have become" of her.36
The Nation As an Extended Family
Educated, morally righteous women, the editors of moral reform
publications gathered their authority from the domestic sphere and
extended their realm of legitimacy outwards from the family to the larger
society. Editors advocated cultural restructuring by using the family as a
natural stepping stone to personalizing problems of the nation. "The
Family takes precedence. It was instituted in the Garden of Eden. The
State is of later origin."37 With so many family circles broken during the
Civil War, The Advocate characterized America as a "nation of mourn-
ers."38 It saw the rends in the nation's social fabric as the great evil of the
war, and thus the reuniting of the nation as a family was the war's great
44 Lueck • Summer 1999
triumph.39 Considering the nation its extended family, The Advocates
editorial voice guided the establishment of a women's culture and defined
the values nurtured within that culture.
While editors held that women were different from men, and in that
difference morally superior, they were not blind to the fact that some
women needed guidance. Treating this lack as ignorance, they carried
their critique of society back into the realm of the domestic sphere,
endeavoring to educate readers. In addition to the "partial silence on the
pulpit," poor childhood training was considered one of the primary causes
of crime. The target audience was women who were presumed to be
mothers and as such held responsible for the formation of the moral
character of their children.40 Editors filled pages with cautionary tales,
such as one that told of a man who nearly escaped jail time even though
he molested children on their way home from school. The reader who
sent in the clipping pointed out that two of the molested girls did not
reveal the crime until their mothers noticed the girls had contracted a
disease. "Is it not a duty that mothers owe their children to teach them, if
insulted in this way, to scream? Should they not, as they value their safety,
teach them to distinguish between right and wrong on all subjects that
they may need to understand . . . ."41
When editors found articles in other publications that echoed their
sentiments, they would reprint them for their readers. For example, these
editors considered it necessary, not selfish, for mothers to attend to their
own health and well-being. The Friend of Virtue ran a reprint that empha-
sized, "How important an element of domestic order and happiness is the
health of the mother! A disordered house, a table alternately extravagant
and mean, a group of children with untidy persons and rude manners, too
surely indicate the absence of a mother's care."42 Mothers were asked to
keep uppermost children's physical, as well as spiritual, needs. Contrary to
conventional wisdom, mothers were urged to encourage the physical
education of their daughters. The publication ran an article advocating
plain food, exercise, and a good "romp": "Let us give our daughters the
training which makes our sons healthy, and they will be so likewise."43 If
mothers neglected these basic responsibilities, they did so with serious
moral consequence.
Do not mothers, by neglecting important duties in the training
of their children, help to swell the dark catalogue of crime? . . .
And now, dear mothers, let me give you a little advice, and do
not be shocked at the seeming vulgarity. Instead of consulting
half a dozen doctors, . . . give your daughters healthy employ-
ment; let them rise early in the morning, clean the parlors ....
Let them cultivate the flowers . . . .44
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 45
Mothers were recognized as role models who could mould and fashion the
minds and manners, the habits and feelings of their children, especially
those of daughters, into almost any form they please. But in doing this,
they must also see to it that they are, themselves, what they would wish
their children to be.4s
A Place to Discuss Seduction
Unlike the other editors of the day, moral reform editors allowed
many women's voices to be heard throughout the pages of their publica-
tions. Female readers displayed a sense of moral responsibility similar to
that of the editors, as did one reader in her complaint about a secular
magazine's frontispiece: "I feel prompted by a sense of duty, as a friend to
the young, as a friend to good morals, as a friend to purity, as the rightful
guardian of my daughter's chastity, 'in thought, speech and behavior,' to
protest against such exquisitely immodest prints."46 Readers submitted
accounts of seduction, which they could share nowhere else, such as one
woman's story about being raped while she was traveling, to which the
editor added the caution, "Let those of the weaker sex who may read it, be
admonished never to travel alone in a public conveyance, till a renovated
state of society is apparent."47
Making known the plight of "fallen" women was a focus of moral
reform publications and the first step in the activist mission of the women
in the moral reform movement. Reformers did not shirk their self-
imposed duty when they began to realize the larger implications of their
actions. As reformers recognized that they were disrupting women's
livelihoods when they discouraged prostitution, these reformers took an
interest in women's economy, which can be seen as they addressed female
labor on the pages of The Advocate. For example, in 1859 the national
society developed a sewing machine fund through which they supplied
the "most worthy" with sewing machines,48 which they bought from
manufacturers and sold to the women. To achieve financial autonomy, the
seamstresses made installment payments of $3 to $5 a month on the
machines. After one year, the fund had distributed 42 sewing machines,
and most of the money had been repaid.49
"Printed at the Home of Industry"
Beyond recording the society's labor reform efforts, The Advocate
enabled women to work, most notably on its own pages. The national
society housed victimized women at its shelter, which was known as the
Home of Industry, a place where women were offered employment
training. This retraining included learning skills for the typesetting and
46 Lueck • Summer 1999
printing of The Advocate. By June 1859, the publisher's box ran the line
"Printed at the Home of Industry." While viewing this self-publishing as
an achievement, editors felt constrained to answer questions of social
impropriety: "To the inquiry, 'Why should a benevolent society publish
and print on their own premises, in a charitable institution?' we reply, the
Society has issued a paper, as its organ with the public, during the 25
years of its existence, which facts without number have proved indispens-
able to the success of the enterprise."50
By 1861 the paper was entirely produced by women. The society
found the consolidation of operations convenient and less expensive, and
the "experiment" of encouraging young girls "to live honestly by the work
of their hands . . . not only self-sustaining but advantageous."51 After four
years of being printed in the Home Chapel basement, the publication
stated that "every branch of the business is satisfactorily performed" by
the females in the home,
not merely the type-setting . . . but the more difficult pro-
cesses of the art, including the proof-reading and other
complex details, being subject only to the general oversight of
the superintendent of this department. There are now eight
female employees regularly engaged, with two assisting
occasionally. Three of these are deaf-mutes, who have already
attained a satisfactory proficiency in those branches for which
previous education had fitted them. This "corps" of laborers
prepare the pages of The Advocate for stereotyping — it now
being printed by steam from plates — print the wrappers, and
fold the papers ready for mailing .... [W]e expect to gradu-
ate a number of young women as proficients in the course of a
few years.52
Both from the standpoint of providing skills training for women and
of producing the publication at reasonable cost, the "experiment" of using
women as in-house labor to produce The Advocate was deemed successful
and was continued as normal practice. Readers did not feel that women's
labor cheapened the publication. Circulation increased fairly steadily,
despite the fact that the high price of paper during the Civil War forced
some thinner issues.'3 Although The Advocate had a practice of circulating
as many as half of the issues without cost,54 the publication was operated
at a profit, and this money went toward the society's home for the desti-
tute. In this manner, The Advocate itself became the society's strongest
voice, supporter and role model for women's labor.
The Advocate charted its own progress in the unconventional use of
women's work, noting that the printing department "appears to be a
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 47
decided success, as regards the feasibility of carrying on the various
branches of printing and publishing wholly by female operatives."55 Much
as the reformers enlarged their sphere of influence, they incrementally
expanded the duties of the women working on the publication, from
production to distribution to securing additional work. The publication
noted in 1861 that production "included in its sphere the mailing of the
papers, in addition to all the other manual processes connected with the
issue of The Advocate and Guardian, together with the execution of
miscellaneous pamphlet and jobbing work."56 In reaping the rewards of its
labor "experiment," the publication extolled the virtues of women's
culture and of women, even of women society had discarded once they
were reclaimed in this women's culture. "It is now satisfactorily demon-
strated that with the necessary intellectual capacity and preparatory
literary acquirements, young women are as well fitted for the business as
the other sex."57 The Advocate also noted that the women's work was
"superior."58
Reformers did not themselves cheapen the worth of the women's
labor, but in recognizing the differences between women and men,
instituted fair labor practices within their own operation. "[F]rom the
experiment made in the 'Home' Printing Office, they are more apt to
learn and fully as reliable, except, perhaps in the power of continued
endurance. In our office, provision is made not to overtax the operatives,
in this respect, by working fewer hours each day and allowing occasional
respite from office duties."59
Once the foundations for this women's culture had been established,
the pages of The Advocate over the years charted the shift in the national
society's mission from reforming women to housing and educating
children until they were graduated from high school and ready to support
themselves.60 A print of the imposing home was added to the publication's
masthead, reflecting the refocused mission to house the "friendless." The
shift in focus enabled the society and its publication to successfully
survive to the mid-20th century.61
Carved Out a Public Sphere for Women
Moral reform activists brought values of the white middle-class
women's domestic sphere out to bear on the public sphere by carving out
a space for women in the public domain and establishing a women's
culture in that space. The voice developed in this women's culture was
embodied in the moral reform periodical. Editors guided the moral
assessment of society as an extended family. So, too, they brought their
moral message back into the domestic sphere, urging mothers to exercise
and educate their children and to pay particular attention to their daugh-
48 Lueck- Summer 1999
ters so that they would not number among the lost and forgotten. Moral
reform publications carried the voices of women who would not be
silenced, even by the religion and the religious leaders they revered.
Through the national dissemination of its messages, The Advocate created
a sisterhood among female reformers.
The Advocate spoke in a profoundly female voice, unusual to hear
even more than a century later. It was a periodical bought with the intent
of transforming it into a female-staffed publication. Having accomplished
that and more, if these women cannot be seen to have achieved the moral
regeneration of American society, the attainment of their grand vision still
did not falter. From within a culture they created in 19th century Ameri-
can society, they transformed this publication to enable it to carry their
vision into the larger society. They created a female editorial voice to
speak of women's worth. They pulled women from the seamy side of
society to enact that transformation. And they succeeded. In reeducating
these women, making them literate and skilled, reform activists trans-
formed their own publication, The Advocate, into a national role model
that showcased the place of women in society and the value of women's
work.
The women of the 19th century moral reform movement set out to
counteract culturally sanctioned practices in what began as an unabash-
edly female manner of traditional influence. They established female
auxiliaries to the male religious societies to address what the male hierar-
chy refused to address — adultery, seduction, rape and prostitution.
During the formation of their religious societies, the women realized the
need for a strong female voice to speak for their perspective. They went
beyond accepted female bounds to establish their periodicals, through
which they cultivated a voice and, with The Advocate, extended the range
of their influence to a national network of sister activists. The Advocate
emanated from a local women's culture that was created within patriarchal
society to speak for the true value of women. The message of The Advocate
was feminist in its re-evaluation of women and its simultaneous debunk-
ing of the male myth that women's role was to service men sexually, at any
cost to themselves.
It is of particular note that from the beginning reformers intended
The Advocate as a female-staffed publication — and that within 30 years
the production of the publication was entirely female. From organizing to
editing, producing, and distributing, these women's expression of activism
was the female moral reform periodical. The Advocate continued to build
its local women's culture to increase its reliance on women at all levels of
its production even after it was successfully repositioned as the national
magazine. As a national women's journal that rose from a cohesive
women's culture, The Advocate itself stands as a powerful symbol of
Summer 1999 •American Journalism 49
cultural transformation, a true advocate for women. The women suc-
ceeded in transforming their periodical into a wholly female endeavor and
in that fulfilled the mission of their women's culture, while establishing
early fair labor practices for women and engaging women in a meaningful
national discourse. With women as the editorial and production staff as
well as audience, the publication closed the circle and established a link in
a cycle through which the values of this women's culture could be per-
petuated, perhaps even across generations.
It is argued here that these women spoke as cultural feminists. Based
on beliefs of sex difference and women's moral superiority, they urged
social reform well outside their traditional purview by means of moral
reform periodicals. The perspective of cultural feminism brings into focus
the importance of the sisterhood that these periodicals established and an
examination of the women's culture that made it possible. It enables a
glimpse beneath the cloak of conservatism under which these "ladies"
veiled themselves to see the activist duty they imposed on themselves and
the sense of personal responsibility they encouraged others to accept.
Perhaps most important for the purposes of journalism history, this
perspective enables a view of The Advocate as a manifestation of cultural
transformation and the symbol of the larger accomplishments of these
reformers. It is hoped that this study provides a theoretical framework on
which to structure answers to journalism historian Henry's call for
research and that it enables further research into the women's training
cycle begun in the print shop of The Advocate. With The Advocate as the
role model, 19th century women's moral reform periodicals were instru-
mental in defining the intellectual and activist tradition of cultural
feminism in the United States.
Endnotes
'Lori D. Ginzberg, '"Moral Suasion Is Moral Balderdash": Women, Politics and the Social Activism
of the 1850s" Journal of 'American History, 73 (1986):601.
'In this paper the publication is referred to simply as The Advocate. Begun as The Advocate of
Moral Reform, the title was changed in 1847 to The Advocate of Moral Reform and Family Guardian;
and in 1849, to The Advocate and Family Guardian, which it remained until ceasing publication in
1941. A Home for the Friendless was opened in July 1847, see Flora L. Northrup, The Record of a
Century, 1834-1934 (New York: American Female Guardian Society and Home for the Friendless,
1934), p. 30, which was incorporated into the society's title, the American Female Guardian Society
and Home for the Friendless.
TTierese L. Lueck, "The Advocate and Family Guardian" in Kathleen L. Endres and Therese L.
Lueck (eds.) Women's Periodicals in the United States: Social and Political Issues (Westport, CT:
Greenwood, 1996), pp. [1]-11.
50 Lueck* Summer 1999
"Josephine Donovan, Feminist Theory: The Intellectual Traditions of American Feminism, re. ed.
(New York: Continuum, 1994), p. 214, n. 2.
5 Alice Echols, "The New Feminism of Yin and Yang" in Ann Snitnow, Christine Stansell and
Sharon Thomspson (eds.) Powers of Desire: The Politics of Sexuality (New York: Monthly Review Press,
1983), p. 454.
''Linda Alcoff, "Cultural Feminism versus Post-Structuralism: The Identity Crisis in Feminist
Theory" in Linda Nicholson (ed.) The Second Wave: A Reader in Feminist Theory (New York:
Routledge, 1997), p. 332.
7Alice Echols, "The Taming of the Id: Feminism and Sexual Politics, 1968-85" in Carole S. Vance
(ed.) Pleasure and Danger: Exploring Female Sexuality (Boston: Routledge, 1984), p. 51.
"Donovan, p. 62.
"Echols, 1983, p. 455.
'"Echols, 1984, p. 56.
1 'Jo Freeman, "From Stiff rage to Women's Liberation: Feminism in 20th-century America" in Jo
Freeman (ed.) Women: A Feminist Perspective, 5th ed. (Mountain View, CA: Mayfield, 1994), p. 23.
'^Barbara Berg, The Remembered Gate: Origins of American Feminism: The Woman and the City,
1800-1860 (New York: Oxford University Press), 1978.
13 Barbara Welter, "The Cult of True Womanhood: 1820-1860" in T.R. Frazier (ed.) The Underside
of American History: Other Readings (New York: Harcourt, 1973), pp. 21 1-222.
'"Mary P. Ryan, "The Power of Women's Networks: A Case Study of Female Moral Reform in
Antebellum America" Feminist Studies, 5 (Spring 1979): 67.
''Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct: Visions of Gender in Victorian America (New York:
Knopf), 1985), p. 109.
"'Donovan, p. 31.
17Smith-Rosenberg, p. 14.
'"Donovan, p. 32.
'"Berg, note 45, p. 291; pp. 4-5.
-''The Seneca Falls, New York Convention is generally recognized as the beginning of the US
women's rights movement.
2 'Smith-Rosenberg, p. 127.
"Susan Henry, "Changing Media History Through Women's History" in Pamela J. Creedon (ed.)
Women in Mass Communication, 2"d. ed. (Newbury Park, CA: Sage, 1993), pp. 349, 350.
23Smidi- Rosenberg, pp. 111-12.
24Smith- Rosenberg, p. 115.
25"Thirteenth Annual Report of the American Female Moral Reform Society" in The Advocate of
Moral Reform and Family Guardian (1 June 1847), p. [81].
lbThe Friend of Virtue was begun in 1 838, about one year after the New England Female Moral
Reform Society was formed.
27"Twelfth Annual Report or the American Female Moral Reform Society" in The Advocate of Moral
Reform (1 June 1846), p. [81].
2*"Twenty-fifth Annual Report of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the
Friendless" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (1 June 1859), p. 167.
2"In the Exodus text in common Protestant use, the Seventh Commandment is the commandment
that warns against committing adultery.
3""For the Friend of Virtue: Conversation Between Georgiana and her Aunt" in The Friend of
Virtue (1 February 1840), p. [33].
"L.W Wright, "An Address Read Before the Maternal Association, Sullivan, N.H." in The Friend
of Virtue (1 March 1840), p. [65].
32[A venerable lady of this city], "To the Executive] Com[mittee] of the N.E.EM.R.S." in The
Friend of Virtue (15 February 1840), p. 55.
33"The Friend of Virtue" [editorial], in The Friend of Virtue (1 July 1851), p. 197.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 5 1
'■"Executive Committee of the American Female Reform Society, "Publishers Box" in The Advocate
of 'Moral Reform (1 January 1844), p. 1.
"Mrs. H. Newhall, "Abstract of Annual Reports" in The Advocate of Moral Reform (15 January
1844), p. 15.
"'"Communicated" in The Friend of Virtue (1 July 1851), p. 197.
""Anniversary Meeting" [editorial], in The Friend of Virtue (1 June 1847), p. 84.
•'"Editor, "The New Year" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (2 January 1865), p. 8; The
Advocate noted that the society lost members with "the decided stand taken by the majority for the
Union side," Northrup, p. 44.
'''Editor, "Long Live the Republic!" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (16 May 1865), p. 1 16.
""Typical of female reform periodicals, The Friend of Virtue ofcen began its articles with "ladies." On
occasion, however, the magazine incorporated men into household and child-rearing recommenda-
tions with its appeals to "parents."
4IH — S, "A Caution to Mothers" in The Advocate of Moral Reform (15 January 1844), p. 1 1.
,; Mother's Journal ', "Healrh" [reprint], in The Friend of Virtue (15 January 1840), p. 19.
''''Means and Ends "Pure Air and Ventilation" [reprint], in The Friend of Virtue (15 February 1840),
p. 51.
44"For the Friend of Virtue: 'For the Mothers'" in The Friend of Virtue (1 January 1850), p. 9.
'"''"The Training of Children" in The Friend of Virtue (\ January 1852), p. 10.
4fA Plain Countrywoman, "Common Sense Comments" [letter to the editor] in The Advocate of
Moral Reform and Family Guardian (1 December 1847), p. 179.
47H. Smith, "An Outrage" in The Advocate of Moral Reform (15 January 1844), p. 14; Editor, p. 15.
4s"Twenty-Sixth Annual Report of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the
Friendless" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (1 June 1860), p. 167.
4''Northrup, p. 45.
,""Twenty-Fifth Annual Report of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the
Friendless" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (1 June 1859), p. 167.
Sllbid.
""Twenty-Seventh Annual Report of the American Female Guardian Society and Home for the
Friendless" in The Advocate and Family Guardian (1 June 1961), pp. 168-169.
1 'There was a slight decline in circulation in the post-war years; the 1868 annual report shows a
circulation of 38,000, a drop of 3,000 from a peak of 41,000 in 1864.
54"Thirteenth Annual Report of the American Female Moral Reform Society" in The Advocate of
Moral Reform and Family Guardian (1 June 1847), p. 81.
""Twenty-Eighth Annual Report of the American Female Guardian Society" in The Advocate and
Guardian (2 June 1862), p. 166.
5fiIbid.
"Ibid.
"Ibid.
s"Ibid.
""Northrup, pp. 78, 83; The society eventually became the Woodycrest Youth Service. See Jonathon
W. Zophy, "Moral Reform" in Angela Howard Zophy (ed.) Handbook of American Women's History
(New York: Garland, 1990), pp. 385-386.
"'Other publications were not so fortunate. The Friend of Virtue, having changed its name to The
Home Guardian, adopted a more upbeat tone than its earlier didacticism. Instructive fiction became a
staple of the magazine. This publications crusade against immorality branched out to embrace other
types of social reform, in particular, intemperance. Its broadened mission and more popularized
format pitting it against other works, the magazine met its demise in 1892.
52 Lueck • Summer 1999
Redefining Racism: Newspaper
Justification for the 1924 Exclusion
of Japanese Immigrants
By Bradley J. Hamm
This study integrates the "mentalities" concept from a classic historical
racial study as a way to examine media framing of Japanese during debate
about the Immigration Act of 1924. To better understand this century's
coverage of Japanese and Asian Americans, it is essential to look at the
dominant historical mentality, or mentalities, that existed among ivhite
newspapers which were central in framing the debate. The mentality method
could be useful concerning historical coverage of other minorities and groups
in the United States.
The message to the Japanese in California in the early 1920s
was clear: "Keep out, Japs." The words were written in signs
in California businesses and homes. Other signs, from San
Francisco to Los Angeles, were just as challenging: "Swat the Japs," or
"Are you pro-American or pro-Jap?," or "Japs, move on. California doesn't
want you."'
As the United States has struggled in the 20th century with the
questions of who to let in the country, from where and how many, the
passage of the Immigration Act of 1924 was an early dramatic statement
of immigration views.2 The act served two main goals for the country: it
relied upon a formula designed to restrict immigrants from Southern
Europe, and the act formally banned all Japanese immigration.
Bradley J. Hamm is Assistant Professor of Journalism & Communications at Elon College in
North Carolina.
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 53
Newspaper editorials about the Immigration Act offer an opportunity
to determine whether there were common and distinct press "mentalities"
about the Japanese that were used to justify the ban and how these mentali-
ties were communicated to the mass audience. The Immigration Act was
clearly designed to limit certain races, rather than just control immigration
numbers. Historian Joel Williamson, in a much acclaimed history of
black — white race relations, defines mentalities as "... an intellectual
atmosphere of a distinctive, clearly identifiable quality. It is derived from the
broad society, touches a large number of individual minds, and flows and
changes over time influencing behavior and being influenced by behavior, and
by the physical world. It is in part emotional, and it does compel action."3
Williamson Defines Three Mentalities
Are there mentalities evident in the press that can both reflect
societal views and influence attitudes and behavior toward the Japanese?
Williamson identified three distinct mentalities that developed in the
mind of the white South about African Americans, particularly the slaves,
before the Civil War: liberal, conservative and radical. The liberal view felt
African Americans had not been given a fair chance, and liberals showed
both a willingness to help and a faith in the future for African Americans.
The conservative mentality was based on the assumption of racial inferior-
ity, and the future of race relations was about determining the "proper
place" for African Americans. The most extreme mentality, radicalism,
envisioned the freed slaves "retrogressing rapidly toward his natural state
of savagery and bestiality."4 Radicals believed there was no place for
African Americans in the future United States.5
Once formed, these mentalities, Williamson argues, live on through
the 20th century and help explain underlying racial views that are evident
throughout the South in the 1900s, especially during flash points, such as
the Klan uprising or school integration. This study, limited to the Immi-
gration Act of 1924, attempts to examine possible mentalities that surface
in newspaper editorials during another racial flash point, the debate to
ban Japanese immigration.
The emphasis on the Japanese and this time period, the 1920s, is
lacking in mass communication research, although as this study suggests,
newspapers concentrated almost exclusively on the Japanese situation
during the immigration debate in 1924. Few studies have dealt with Asian
Americans and mass media in general.6 Among those examining history,
the primary time studied is World War II. The most complete summary
of historical research about Japanese and mass communication, by media
historian Thomas Heuterman,7 includes one cite for the 1920s: this study,
54 Hamm • Summer 1999
as a paper presentation in 1995. One communications study of 1920s
immigration and press coverage barely mentions Japanese immigration at
all, concentrating on the plight of Europeans.8
This study attempts to explore three central questions by using
editorials about the Immigration Act of 1924 from seven newspapers.
First, did newspapers support or oppose Japanese emigration to the
United States, and why? How was the issue framed for readers? Second,
from these editorials, were there specific racial "mentalities" that can be
identified in the way white-owned newspapers felt about the Japanese, or
Asians in general, similar to what Williamson found white Southerners
generated about African Americans? And, of importance for considering
coverage of the Japanese in later years, does there appear to be, according
to editorials, a relatively equal place (liberal mentality), a "proper" place
(conservative mentality), or no place (radical mentality) for Japanese
immigrants in the future United States society, as expressed by the
newspapers?
In the early 1900s, immigrants from Southern and Eastern Europe
poured into New York, Japanese immigrants moved to the West Coast
(especially California) and African Americans from the South migrated to
the North and West. For African Americans, "This migration expanded
the realities of racial inequality beyond the Deep South and into the
North and the West Coast," wrote media historian Rodger Streitmatter.9
For the Japanese, the racial inequality — most strongly felt along the West
Coast — was about to be written into national law.
The Japanese would find very little support from these United States
newspapers. Instead, editorialists exhibited "mentalities" toward the
Japanese unlike the ones identified by Williamson in black-white rela-
tions. In addition, one mentality reflects an unusual racial view in United
States history: the Japanese should be banned because they were equal, or
even superior, to the white race in terms of economics and ability to work
hard. Thus, the Japanese were considered both superior and inferior.
Substantial Newpaper Editorial Coverage
This sample and study includes all editorials about the immigration
act from six daily newspapers — The New York Times, the New York Herald
Tribune, the Chicago Daily Tribune, the San Francisco Chronicle, the San
Francisco Examiner, the Louisville Courier-Journal — and the nation's
leading African American weekly newspaper, the Chicago Defender, during
the congressional debate from the months of April and May 1924. All but
one of the dailies supported exclusion of the Japanese. Only the Courier-
Journal was opposed; it supported allowing Japanese immigration at the
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 55
same quota level as European nations. The weekly Defender also opposed
the ban.
The New York papers were chosen because the city was the entry
point for most immigrants during this period. The San Francisco papers
were chosen because many Asian immigrants also came into the country
through this city. The two cities' papers were well aware of the daily flood
of immigrants. Chicago and Louisville were selected to provide viewpoints
from a distance, because they were less affected than New York City and
San Francisco, which were dealing with the boat loads of new immigrants;
they were on opposite sides politically, with the Daily Tribune being
conservative and the Courier-Journal being liberal; and, since the Immi-
gration Act was about race, the Courier-Journal -was, an early and impor-
tant voice in support of civil rights for African Americans in the South.
Thus, they should offer distinct views.
Would Louisville view the Japanese plight in California in a similar
way to the Southern racial problems? Likewise, the Defender -was included
to consider the views of one of the most prominent African American
newspapers in United States journalism history. A study of the Defenders
reaction offers a diverse viewpoint and depth to the racial issue facing the
Japanese, a perspective that might be lacking in the white daily newspa-
pers.
Newspaper editorial coverage of the Immigration Act was substan-
tial— nearly 60 editorials over about 30 days in April and May 1924
surrounding the immigration discussion in Congress. This study covers
the time period for the discussion — mid-April to mid-May — and two
weeks before and after. The immigration ban was front-page news starting
April 12, when the House voted 322 to 71 to ban Japanese immigrants.
Nearly all the editorials occur after the vote, not before. The Tribune, for
example, ran editorials on the topic nine consecutive days after the House
vote, and the Times averaged about one editorial every two days for nearly
a month.
The main arguments in 1924 immigration are discussed here, along
with how the newspapers viewed the debate. The United States was doing
to Japan what Japan was doing to others, including the United States. The
United States excluded Japanese; the Japanese excluded Koreans and
Chinese. Californians did not allow aliens to own land; neither did Japan.
And, the San Francisco Chronicle argued, United States citizens were
allowed in Japan only because "we compelled the Japanese to admit us by
sending Commodore [Matthew] Perry to shoot up their coast towns [in
1854] if they did not admit us."10
All countries were affected by quotas under the Immigration Act of
1924, but the hardest hit, in exclusion and wounded national pride, was
56 Hamm • Summer 1999
Japan. Japan's case accounted for almost 100 percent of editorials in the
seven newspapers. "The [immigration] problem is one of the gravest
which the country has faced in many years," said The New York Times
shortly before the congressional debates in April 1924." The San Francisco
Examiner said passage of the immigration bill represented California's
most significant victory since achieving statehood.12 The views of many of
the newspapers can be summarized through a letter by publisher William
Randolph Hearst to his editor at the San Francisco Examiner. "We do not
want in this country the demoralizing competition of low Oriental labor
conditions, poor standards of living, and contaminating Oriental morals,"
he wrote. "This is not race prejudice. It is race preservation."13
Majority of Japanese Immigrants Lived in California
When the United States annexed Hawaii in 1898, Japanese laborers,
who made up about two-thirds of Hawaii's work force, began to move to
California for better wages. President Theodore Roosevelt responded by
signing an order in March 1907 prohibiting aliens, mainly Japanese, who
had passports to go to Hawaii (and Mexico and Canada) from settling on
the mainland United States.14 Both countries negotiated other points, and
the action became known as the "Gentlemen's Agreement" of 1907-8. 15
The agreement determined Japanese immigration until the 1920s.
Laborers were allowed to bring wives from Japan or Hawaii.16 Some men
sent pictures of themselves to Japan, or received pictures of women, for
marriage partners. Women who arrived to meet their husbands for the
first time were known as "picture brides." Some United States citizens
believed the practice to be immoral, and Japan discontinued it in 1920,
allowing only marriages with men who returned to Japan for at least 30
days to find wives.17
From 1890 to 1920, the number of Japanese soared from 2,039 to
1 1 1,010 on the mainland. About two-thirds lived in California.18 These
first-generation Japanese settlers, known as "issei," were not eligible for
citizenship for several reasons.19 Their children, known as "nisei," or
second-generation Japanese, were US citizens by birth.
Most Japanese farmed land considered worthless by other Califor-
nians. By 1920, their farms produced ten percent of California's crops.20
California responded in 1920 with an amended Alien Land Law. The
original law, in 1913, prohibited aliens or companies with a majority of
Japanese stockholders from owning, selling, or bequeathing agricultural
land to another immigrant. Agricultural needs for World War I and a
loophole (their children born in the states were not immigrants, so
Japanese land owners could give the land to their children) reduced the
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 57
law's effect. The loophole was closed in 1920, and the US Supreme Court
gave its approval in November 1923 after appeals.21 Japanese laborers lost
their land and their economic foundation.
Next, many Californians pushed to block all Japanese immigration.
In early 1924, bills in Congress proposed severely limiting immigration
from Europe and banning completely any immigration from Japan. Other
Asians had been banned in previous years (in 1882 Congress passed the
Chinese Exclusion Act22) but the Japanese believed they had a different,
better relationship with the United States government as evidenced by the
Gentlemen's Agreement. They learned otherwise.
Japan reacted in anger to an immigration ban that it perceived as a
national insult. July 1, the day the bill was enacted, was declared "Na-
tional Humiliation Day."23 The period after the enactment of the Immi-
gration Act was filled with tension that "bordered on a war scare."24
Newspaper's View: A Superior/Inferior Mentality?
Five of six daily newspapers in this study wanted Japanese immi-
grants barred, but they found positive ways to frame the exclusion.
Editorial writers framed the debate around four main themes: race,
economy, national security and political decency. Three themes were
essential to the act: possible racial and cultural mixing between whites and
Asians, the economic impact of Japanese workers, and national security.
The fourth area was about the manner in which Japan was excluded,
rather than the exclusion itself.
In their editorials, newspapers could have supported the Immigra-
tion Act in its entirety; supported the Act but argued against exclusion of
Japanese; or opposed the whole Act. The Louisville Courier-Journal was
the only daily newspaper to argue against Japanese exclusion, and it did so
on diplomatic grounds. While it supported the rest of the immigration
bill, the newspaper said the United States should not break its
Gentlemen's Agreement with Japan.
Newspapers denied that racism was an issue in the passage of the
bill; they cited economic reasons to exclude the Japanese. The Japanese
had reason to believe otherwise. The 1924 Act allowed for immigration at
a two percent quota for non-Asians; each country was allowed an immi-
gration level of two percent of the foreign born individuals in the United
States in 1890.2^ If the two percent quota had been extended to Japan as
it was to all European countries, only about 146 Japanese immigrants a
year would have been admitted to the United States — hardly a grave
threat to the US economy. This study shows that racism was indeed
significant in newspaper arguments against the Japanese. The ways in which
58 Hamrn- Summer 1999
the racism was presented reflect the 1920s "mentalities" of the newspapers
toward the Asian race in general and the Japanese in particular.
Mentality 1 : The Asian As Incompatible Alien
Again and again, the newspapers denied racism was an issue in
excluding Japanese. Racism, according to James M. Jones in Prejudice and
Racism, builds on negative-attitude view of prejudice and also includes
three other criteria: race as a biological concept, the superiority of one's
own race, and institutional and cultural practices that formalize the
domination of one racial group over another.26 The newspapers argued
that superiority was not an issue:
• "This does not imply that it adheres to silly notions of
'superior' or 'inferior' races or believes that persons with
blue eyes are better Americans than those with black," said
the Times.27
• "There is no valid question of superiority or inferiority,"
said the Tribune.2*
• "It is not because we consider the Japanese an 'inferior'
race, as the Japanese should fully understand," said the
Chronicle. ,29
• "If they want a certificate of excellence, why, we can go
before a notary public and have one made out: we can give
them a certificate of intellectual, moral and artistic equal-
ity," said the Examiner. 30
And yet . . . There are differences, the newspapers added.
The Times sz\d: "This objection, it cannot be sufficiently empha-
sized, does not rest on any imagined superiority of the white race, but
solely on the incompatibility of the different racial standards."31 A
compromise could be reached easily because Japan "recognizes that the
two races cannot mix."32
The Chicago Daily Tribune said: "We insist merely that there are
differences which not only bar Japanese immigrants from American
citizenship but prevent social amalgamation. "33 (The Tribune was alone
among daily newspapers in referring to the Japanese in terms such as "a
great little people"34 and "wonderful little people."35 The Defender did
refer to the Japanese as "yellow people" in its editorials.)
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 59
The Chronicle said:
We do not want them and will not have them because they are
so different that they do not assimilate; because they settle in
colonies from which our own people move away because the
social atmosphere is destroyed; because their standard of
living, being lower than ours, they undersell our people
whenever it is necessary; because the Japanese government
holds immigrants and their descendants forever as Japanese
subjects; because they are so much more prolific than we that
without restriction in a few generations they will possess our
land.36
While no racism is involved, said the Chronicle, "if such aliens are
allowed to enter they will come in numbers so large as to produce social
and economic conditions which are unjust to ourselves and are sure to
result in real race hatreds and domestic disturbances leading to interna-
tional feeling which will be really 'grave'."37
Though the Herald Tribune noted "a magnificent bonfire" of racial
hatred attributable to the Senate,38 it argued the debate was not about a
racial question. Guests were allowed from Japan, thus refuting any notion
of racism.39 The immigration bill did not exclude visitors such as stu-
dents, professors, and ministers. In short, because, the Tribune argued, the
Japanese could visit but not stay, which was proof of no racism.40 It was,
rather, a policy decision. "[A quota system] would admit less than 250
[Japanese] immigrants a year, but it would run counter to the settled
policy of this country, founded on the principle of race separation, against
admitting Orientals on the same terms as Europeans," the Herald Tribune
said.41
Only the Chicago Defender claimed racism. "The color question got
mixed up in the Japanese debate. Our white people are determined to
make this a 'white' country."42 The newspaper ran an editorial cartoon
with a California landowner tossing a brick, labeled "land shall be sold to
Caucasians only" The brick was shown bouncing off the head of a
Japanese man and striking the head of an African American man. The
caption for the cartoon said, "Perhaps it wasn't intended for us, but —
White Versus "Yellow People"
Race determined the outcome of the exclusion ban, said the De-
fender. "[Japan] rose as a yellow people. As soon as it got up it wanted to
be 'white.' No, said your Supreme Court; no, we wish you well but we
have our hands full trying to settle who is white, and who is not white, in
60 Hamm • Summer 1999
43
the USA."44 The United States had "chronic colorphobia," according to
the newspaper. The Defender said whites in the United States wanted to
take a slap at the Japanese, "the most powerful of the darker races," to
prove white supremacy.45
The New York Times challenged, early and often, the notion of a
Nordic superior race and the implications upon United States immigra-
tion policy. The Times suggested standards to be met by future immi-
grants that would move beyond racial qualities. "The test of the would-be
immigrant is, not has he blue eyes and flaxen hair, but will he make a
good citizen, will he adapt himself easily and willingly to American life,
will he contribute to the strength of the American nation and the Ameri-
1 "46
can racer °
Despite this talk against a Nordic superior race, the Times advocated
that an immigration policy was more like a science experiment. It was
both natural and wise to not change the "present blend" much, the
newspaper said. The Times endorsed a proposal to determine the present
racial composition in the United States and to "seek to preserve the
existing proportion of those races which contributed to the present
fusion." The result, according to the Times, was no discrimination against
particular races or groups. "This is as it should be," it said.47
Even the Louisville Courier-Journal, which was the only daily news-
paper to speak against Japanese exclusion, said the bill favored those who
furnished the best class of citizens. The editorial offered a lengthy quota-
tion by a University of Virginia doctor which claimed the United States
had done everything possible since 1875 to ensure racial decay.48
Perhaps the most unusual argument was made by the San Francisco
Examiner. Its editorial on May 1, 1924 was headlined "Exclude Prejudice
from US Immigration Policy!" So, was the Examiner speaking in favor of
Asians? Not at all. Saying that "unassimilable races, and unassimilable
people, generally, must be barred from the United States," the newspaper
argued that there should be no "artificial" discrimination or prejudice
among "the various peoples of our own color and blood."4' Since the
Immigration Act discriminated among whites from different countries,
the Examiner called it the worst and silliest measure on immigration ever
devised." Of course, most of these European immigrants were entering on
the East Coast, so San Francisco was much less affected.
In a related editorial, the Examiner said: "For our nation to stand, on
its statute books, committed to so fantastic a theory of discrimination
between neighboring peoples of Caucasian blood and proven ability,
would be both hurtful and foolish."50 To stand on its statute books on a
theory of discrimination against Asians was acceptable to the newspaper.
The Japanese were portrayed as incompatible aliens. This theme was the
most dominant among all of the editorials.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 61
Mentality 2: The Asian As Overachiever
The second area is unusual in terms of racism studies: not only were
the Japanese presented as worse than white immigrants or citizens (which
is an emphasis of most racism, the degradation of another race) but
editorial writers offered great praise for the work ethic of the Japanese. In
short, the Japanese should be banned because they were both worse and
better than whites.
Why should the Japanese be excluded while Europeans would not
be? They work too hard, the Chicago Daily Tribune argued. Thus, this Act
should not insult Japan; exclusion was a compliment, a tribute of respect.
It was an economic white flag to Japan, saying that men in the United
States could not compete on the same level as Japanese men. After all, the
Japanese had taken land that was abandoned or deemed worthless by
California farmers, and they turned it into highly productive, profitable
farms. "Their industry, ability, and thrift have put many American
farmers and small tradesmen out of business," the Tribune said."
The Japanese worker labored longer hours and spent less on himself,
especially if he did not have a wife and children, the Tribune said. He
saves the money to buy more land and supplies, then works even harder.
"Industry, self-control, economy in expenditure are all virtues which we
respect," the newspaper said.52 Still, United States citizens had a different,
higher standard of living, the newspaper said. They had families to
support at this higher standard.
The Neiv York Times shared a similar view: "Whatever element of
'inferiority' may be found, when it is considered in terms of economics,
rests on the side of the whites rather than of the Asiatic races." The Times
noted the principal objections were of the Japanese working harder, living
more simply and getting ahead through diligence.1'3 The ban of laborers
was not enough, the San Francisco Chronicle said. No more Japanese
women should be allowed in because wives were economic threats, too.
"Japanese brides are far more objectionable immigrants than Japanese
men. They work in the field like men and their coming means several
Japanese citizens per bride, who can be landowners because [they are]
born in this country and who can still live in colonies, leading the dual
life of American citizens and Japanese subjects."54
The editorial added that extra ships were needed for the thousands
of Japanese women heading to the United States before the exclusion's
July 1, 1924 deadline. The solution for Japanese men seeking wives? Leave
the country, the Chronicle advised. "If Japanese lawful residents in this
country wish to marry they should move back to Japan. Let us do a
disagreeable but necessary job in the pleasantest way possible."55
62 Hamm • Summer 1999
If most newspapers studied used racist thinking to denounce the
perceived moral differences between United States citizens and the
Japanese, they added an unusual twist. Rarely do racists portray the other
group to be superior, especially in important areas for personal or group
pride such as hard work or diligence. They were not getting ahead by
cheating, or by doing less; the Japanese men and women worked hard,
were thrifty, practiced self-control and taught these traits to their children,
according to the newspapers. Therefore, they should be stopped.
Mentality 3: The Asian As Loyal Invader
One other theme about the Japanese immigrants is threaded through
the editorials. Newspapers suggested that the rapidly growing number of
Japanese in California signaled an invasion of sorts; the immigrants could
establish a peacetime foothold on the West Coast.
After a national columnist for the Hearst newspapers referred to "the
Japanese empire with its tens of millions of intelligent, determined
fighters,"56 the Chronicle complained about colonies of Japanese workers
in the United States or United States workers in Japan. This situation, the
newspaper said, would result in "social clashes, which neither government
could prevent drifting into international antagonisms, which would make
impossible the cordial cooperation of the two nations."57
The "hard worker" argument in the Tribune moved quickly from
economic superiority to a conquering mentality. The Tribune believed that
to delay the immigration ban would be damaging for the future. "To go
along year by year, with the exclusion issue always irritating our relations
with Japan, but never inducing us to prepare for its defense, is to make
war certain, and at the same time insure that it will be fought by us at the
greatest possible disadvantage."58
The disagreement must be faced head-on, the Tribune argued, rather
than allowed to simmer constantly. "If the Japanese either cannot or will
not respect our right to exclude whom we please from our household, an
issue is forced upon us from which we will not and cannot recede, even
though our position means war."59 Without the Act, the West would
become an Asiatic colony.60 If war with Japan did come because of the
Exclusion Act, it would be a war for the United States worker, "a people's
conflict without qualification."61
The Japanese were portrayed in the editorials as incompatible aliens,
as overachieving hard workers, and loyal invaders. For these reasons, they
deserved to be banned. But they did not deserve to be embarrassed, the
newspapers said. And Congress, according to the editorial writers, acted
terribly and brought shame to both countries.
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 63
Congress As "The Ugly American"
The Times suggested the actions by United States lawmakers could
lead to future conflict. Their speeches and action against Japan were
certain to intensify hatred by the Japanese. "The Senate cast responsibility
to the winds and showed itself willing to sow the seeds of future wars in
order to rebuke a fancied present threat. Such bull-in-the-shop tactics are
as disconcerting to Americans as to foreigners."62
The US Secretary of State, Charles Evans Hughes, had opposed the
exclusion bill. While Congress was debating the bill, Hughes asked
Masanao Hanihara, Japanese ambassador to the United States, to write a
letter explaining Japan's position and its views about the present
Gentlemen's Agreement. The letter was relayed by Hughes to the Senate.
In an example of diplomacy gone terribly awry, the letter was used against
Japan to rally both public and congressional opposition.
In the letter, Hanihara discussed many items, including the observa-
tion that Japan was most interested in the same respect and consideration
as other nations. "In a most friendly spirit," Hanihara added that "grave
consequences" could result from the Act in regard to relations between the
two countries.63 Supporters of the bill argued that Japan was trying to
bully its way toward favorable legislation.
The Senate and House responded swiftly. The bills were approved
within a few days by overwhelming margins. The whole scene was an
embarrassment, the newspapers said. "The United States is surely above
the childishness of answering such imagined provocation out of pure spite
by the gravest legislation," said the Herald Tribune.^ "The Senate's passion
is about on a level with the rage of a group of college sophomores bent on
a hazing bee in retaliation for some fancied disrespect on the part of a
freshman. Doubtless the United States is in a position to affront Japan or
any other nation of a smaller stature; but the bully does not cut a pleasing
figure among men or nations."
Following 1923's earthquake in Tokyo, the Exclusion Act was an
emotional earthquake for Japan, the Herald Tribune said. The ban could
be accomplished through a revision of the Gentlemen's Agreement, rather
than the very public Immigration Act. "[The Senate] should strike out the
obnoxious provision that humiliates Japan. It is a wretched exhibition of
jingoism."65
The New York Times called the quick votes "hasty and intemperate"
action. The legislative work was "unwisdom by the House . . . that was
not corrected by the Senate."66 The Times said that one Easter hope was
that the Department of State and the Japanese government would meet to
compromise with the least possible harm to both sides — or even that the
64 Hamm • Summer 1999
president would veto the bill.67 Still, the Times wasn't against the exclusion
ban, though at the beginning of the debate its editorials appeared to favor
some consideration of Japan's position. By the time the bill was settled,
the newspaper asked only for a kinder way to deal with the problem.68
Anti-Japanese Sentiment Was Widespread
This study, covering one of the most significant laws in immigration
history, shows that five of six selected daily newspapers opposed any
admission of Japanese under the 1924 Act — not 10,000 Japanese, or 100
Japanese, or one. The Japanese should not be covered by the two percent
quota that applied to most other countries, said each daily newspaper
except the Louisville Courier-Journal. The Japanese might dilute the
Nordic strain; they were unassimilable. This view was held not just in San
Francisco, where white citizens were interacting with Japanese, but also in
New York and Chicago.
Editorial writers exhibited racism toward the Japanese, but where the
conservative mentality in the South believed in the African American's
inferiority and the radical mentality thought of the African American as a
savage, a dangerous beast or criminal, editorial writers did not frame the
Japanese or Asians in similar ways. It would have been nearly impossible
in United States society for white newspapers to argue that African
Americans in the 1920s worked much too hard, as the Tribune did, or
that they worked harder, lived more simply and got ahead through
diligence, as the Times argued. Nor would most white newspapers in this
era have offered to give African Americans a certificate of intellectual,
moral and artistic equality, as the Examiner offered to give to the Japanese.
Editorial writers at white newspapers used a different racial mental-
ity toward Asians than those used by Southern whites against African
Americans. They viewed the Japanese as Incompatible Aliens, Hard
Workers, Loyal Invaders. In many ways, these United States newspapers
declared the Japanese to be both superior and inferior. Oddly, the Japa-
nese have been described as having a similar superior/inferior attitude
toward the United States. The term for this is "gaijin complex."69 The
mentality exhibited by these newspapers was not liberal, conservative or
radical — instead, it was a. gaijin complex, a mentality where both superior
and inferior attitudes are used to reach the same conclusion: ban the
Japanese because whites in the United States do not want them in the
country.
In 1924, these daily newspapers in their editorials could have been
optimistic about a future of racial unity, of a melting pot that included
Asians. While Williamson's three mentalities do not match the views
toward the Japanese in this case, the future outcome or possibilities of
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 65
each mentality can be applied. The newspapers could have projected an
equal place (liberal mentality), a "proper" place (conservative mentality),
or no place (radical mentality) for Japanese immigrants in the future
United States society. They chose no place.
Harsher Racist Attitudes Still a Danger
Not until four decades later were federal immigration laws liberal-
ized. Even today, the existing 1924 mentality of newspapers toward
Japanese and Asians appears in press coverage. In a 1994 article about
"Covering the Invisible 'Model Minority' " William Wong cited a popular
inflammatory phrase — "Asian invasion" — still used in 1990s coverage of
articles dealing with Asian Americans.70 "To the historian," wrote John
Dower in War Without Mercy, " there is certainly a humorous side to the
reincarnation of the Japanese 'superman' in a business suit four decades
after he was first observed in military uniform in the skies of the Pacific,"
or even earlier, culminating in the 1920s legislation in California and the
1924 Immigration Act, as in this study.71 "As the transition of Japan and
the Western powers from war to peace demonstrated, the hard idioms
have a soft underside; but by the same token, the softer idioms often
conceal a hard and potentially devastating edge. ... It is predictable that
harsher racist attitudes reminiscent of the war years will again arise at
times of heightened competition or disagreement."72
This study integrates the mentality concept from historical racial
study as a way to examine historical media framing of Japanese, but the
mentality method could be useful concerning historical coverage of other
minorities and groups in the United States. To better understand the
coverage in this century of Japanese and Asian Americans, it is essential to
look at the dominant historical mentality or mentalities that existed
among white newspapers which were essential in framing the debate.
Those mentalities were different from the mentalities of Southern whites
about African Americans. These mentalities were developed long before
World War II and were essential in the way Asians, and particularly the
Japanese, were framed.
Endnotes
'Edward Doherty, "A California 'Close-up' of the Japanese," 18 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 1:7.
Administrative Procedure Act: Statutes at Large, 43, 153 (1924).
'Joel Williamson, A Rage for Order: Black-White Relations in the American South Since Emancipation,
66 Hamm • Summer 1999
New York: Oxford University Press, 1986, 70.
'Ibid, 71.
Ibid, 72.
'Virginia Mansfield-Richardson, "Asian Americans and Mass Communication in the United States:
A Wake-up Call. Paper presented at the Association for Education in Journalism and Mass Commu-
nication Annual Conference, Washington, D.C., August 1995.
Thomas H. Heuterman, "The Japanese Americans," in U.S. News Coverage of Racial Minorities: A
Sourcebook, 1934-1996, Beverly Ann Deepe Keever, Carolyn Martindale and Mary Ann Weston, eds.
(Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1997), 216-248. For further study of Japanese in this time
period, see Heuterman's The Burning Horse: The Japanese-American Experience in the Yakima Valley
1920-1942 (Cheney: Eastern Washington University Press, 1995).
"Marion Marzolf, "Americanizing the Melting Pot: The Media as a Megaphone for the Restriction-
ists," in Mass Media Between the Wars: Perceptions of Cultural Tension, 1918-1941, Catherine L. Covert
and John D. Stevens, eds. (Syracuse University Press, 1984), 107-125.
''Rodger Streitmatter, "The Media and Racial Equality," in The Significance of the Media in
American History, James D. Startt and Wm. David Sloan, eds. (Northport, Alabama: Vision Press,
1994), 264.
"'"Let Reason Prevail," 16 April 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 26:2.
""'Supermen and Immigration," 10 April 1924, The New York Times, 22:4. In The Ambivalent
Welcome: Print Media, Public Opinion and Immigration, authors Rita J. Simon and Susan H.
Alexander (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993) show that United States magazines and The New York
Times seldom supported immigrant causes from 1880 to 1990. In a review of the book J. Herbert
Altschull of Johns Hopkins University said, "It is healthy for Americans, journalists in particular, to
pause every now and then to examine the warts in our history and remember that our record of
treatment of the downtrodden offers little ground for boasting." J. Herbert Altschull, "Book
Reviews," Journalism History 19:4 (Winter 1994), 140. Simon and Alexander's study was a sampling
of articles in magazines and the Times.
l2"Nation Learns to Heed Voice of California," 17 April 1924, San Francisco Examiner, 5B:1.
'-'William Randolph Hearst, "Japanese Exclusion Vital to US, Says Mr. Hearst," 15 April 1924, San
Francisco Examiner, 6B: 1 . For a later period, no West Coast newspapers (of 27 studied) supported the
Japanese during the internment period in World War II. See Lloyd Chiasson, "The Japanese-
American Encampment: an Editorial Analysis of 27 West Coast Newspapers," Newspaper Research
Journal 12 (2): 92-107.
'^Immigration Act of 20 February 1907, Administrative Procedure Act: Statues at Large 34, 898
(1907).
'The Gentlemen's Agreement consisted of telegrams, cables and other communications, rather
than a statute. Bill Ong Hing, Making and Remakuig Asian America Through Immigration Policy,
1850-1990 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993), 254.
"The agreement was to end the immigration of laborers. Passports still could be — and were —
issued to parents, wives, and children of residents. Also, others such as former residents, merchants,
students, diplomats and tourists could receive passports.
l7Hing, 55.
lsAkemi Kikumura, Issei Pioneers: Hawaii and the Mainland, 1885 to 1924 (Los Angeles: Japanese
American National Museum, 1992), 37-38. For a comparison, about 15 million Europeans emigrated
to the United States from 1900 to 1924. Bill Hosokawa, Nisei: The Quiet Americans, New York:
William Morrow and Company, 1969), 94.
'The Japanese government did not allow its citizens to become citizens of other countries. In
addition, the US Congress in 1790 had given naturalization rights to free white persons residing in
the United States for two years. After the Civil War, African Americans were included. However,
Asians were denied naturalization rights in the Naturalization Act of 1870.
:"Kikumura, 49.
JIWebb v. O'Brien, 263 US 313 (1923). The alien land laws were not declared unconstitutional
based on racial discrimination until Masaoka v. California, 39 Cal. 2d 883 (1952) and Fujii v.
California, 38 Cal. 2d 718 (1952). In Hing, 60. The US Supreme Court was not supportive of the
Japanese immigration efforts during this time; it later ruled in 1925 that the Japanese, Asian Indians
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 67
and Filipinos were not free white persons eligible for naturalization. Toyota v. United States, 268 U.S.
402(1925).
"Administrative Procedure Act: Statutes at Large 22, 58 (6 May 1882).
23Yuji Ichioka, The hsei: The World of the First Generation Japanese Immigrants, 1885-1924 (New
York: The Free Press, 1988), 247.
24Sadao Asada, Japan an/i the United States, 1915-25 (Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms,
1963), 390.
:The debate over which census to use became a significant point in the law. If lawmakers chose the
1890 census, then western and northern European immigrants would be rewarded with higher
numbers. II lawmakers chose the more recent 1920 census, the number of eastern and southern
European immigrants would increase because of the great immigration during and after World War I.
Lawmakers chose to follow the 1890 census.
2r,James M. Jones, Prejudice and Racism, 2nd ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1997), 1 1.
27"Preserving the American Race," 5 April 1924, The New York Times, 14:3.
2fl"Japanese Penetration in Hawaii," 15 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:2.
2'"'No Time to Stir Up Hatreds," 15 April 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 24:2.
"'"Let Congress act today on Japanese exclusion bill," 12 May 1924, San Francisco Examiner, 6B:1.
""Asiatics in America," 27 April 1924, The New York Times, 6:2.
""Finding a Way Out," 29 April 1924, The New York Times, 16:3.
""Japanese Penetration in Hawaii," 15 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:2.
'''"A Japanese Boycott," 25 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:2.
""Think It Over," 4 May 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1.
"'"No Time to Stir Up Hatreds," 15 April 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 24:2. After such a critical
commentary, the Chronicle then suggested the debate must "stop, in heaven's name, without one
disagreeable word on either side, and especially with only the kindest speech on our side." Then, after
calling the Japanese both virile and competent, the Chronicle ended with, "What this poor world
needs most is good nature. Let us contribute our share."
""President for Exclusion," 5 May 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 22:1. In this editorial, the
newspaper offers an unusual view of what is expected in a democratic society. "It will not help matters
to publicly discuss them. When the President officially informs Congress that a certain course is
desirable in initiating an international policy in which he is in complete accord with Congress, that
should be sufficient."
'""The California Lesson," 8 May 1924, New York Herald Tribune, 12:1.
""'Some friendlier Way," 30 April 1924, New York Herald Tribune, 10: 1 .
""'The New York Times agreed with this view ("Asiatics in America," 27 April 1924, The New York
Times, 6:2). Because the immigration standards did not exclude Asian visitors, the Times argued, there
was no racism involved, only exclusion of workers "on account of difference of traditions and types of
civilization."
4 '"The Gentlemanly Way," 13 April 1924, New York Herald Tribune, II 6:2.
42Roscoe Simmons, "The Week," 26 April 1924, Chicago Defender, II 1:2.
"'"Perhaps It Wasn't Intended for Us, but — ," 19 April 1924, Chicago Defender, 14:3.
44Simmons, 26 April 1924.
4,"Stirring Up Race Hatreds," 3 May 1924, Chicago Defoider, I 14:2.
"''"'Supermen' and Immigration," 10 April 1924, The New York Times, 22:4.
47" Preserving the American Race," 5 April 1924, The New York Times, 14:3.
4S"The Immigration Question," 8 April 1924, Louisville Courier-Journal, 6:2. The Louisville paper
did not cover the issue much. It had a half-dozen editorials about the immigration act in nearly two
months. The othet daily newspapers had that many in less than ten days. The argument by biologist
Dr. Ivey F. Lewis of the University of Virginia, as quoted in the Courier-Journal, was: "The citizen of
tomorrow! Is there any problem facing our statesmen to compare in importance with this? Our
country will be what it is tomorrow because of what it is today. We have undertaken the direction of
human evolution. At the present moment we are bungling the job. What is happening in the United
68 Hamrn* Summer 1999
States is insuring with tragic finality chat the next generation will be less capable of bearing its burden
than the present one. Since 1875 we have been doing nearly everything possible to insure racial decay.
The falling birth rate has been accomplished among the better classes. Unrestricted immigration has
diluted our stock with millions of unassimilated aliens."
''''"Exclude Prejudice From US Immigration Policy," 1 May 1924, San Francisco Examiner, 1 B: 1 .
'""Nation Needs Plenty of Desirable Immigration," 30 April 1924, San Francisco Examiner, 6B:1.
5l"The Issue with Japan," 14 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:2.
""Insulting Japan," 18 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1.
""Differing Standards," 24 April 1924, The New York Times, 18:2.
54"The Real Japanese Menace," 17 May 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 26:1.
55"Co-operation Necessary" 10 May 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 25:2.
^Arthur Brisbane, "Today," 6 April 1924, San Francisco Examiner, 1, 2.
57"Co-operation Necessary," 10 May 1924, San Francisco Chronicle, 25:2.
'""We Cannot Compromise a Sovereign Right," 16 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1.
5'"We Cannot Compromise a Sovereign Right," 16 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1.
''""Japanese Penetration in Hawaii," 15 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:2.
S,"A People's Issue," 20 April 1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1. The Tribune also argued, however,
that Japan would be unlikely to attack the Philippines because "the Japanese do not like or thrive in
tropical climates, any more than they like or thrive in severe northern climates. It is their chief, and
perhaps their sole, physical weakness as a race." From "The Philippines, Japan and America," 17 April
1924, Chicago Daily Tribune, 8:1.
w"As Congress Cools Off," 17 April 1924, The New York Times, 18:1.
"Hanihara to Hughes, 10 April 1924, Papers Relating to the Foreign Relations of the United
States, 1915-25 (Washington, D.C., 1924-39). In Asada, 390.
M"Spite Diplomacy," 16 April 1924, New York Herald Tribune, 14:1.
''5"Uncalled-for Temper," 15 April 1924, New York Herald Tribune, 14:1.
"'"Affronting Japan," 15 April 1924, The New York Times, 20:1.
67"A Black Friday," 20 April 1924, The New York Times, II 6:2.
ss"The Real Japanese Question," 3 May 1924, The New York Times, \A-A.
f'"For a description of the "gaijin complex," see Robert C. Christopher, The Japanese Mind: The
Goliath Explained, New York: Linden Press, 1983. Gaijin means foreigner in Japanese.
7"William Wong, "Covering the Invisible 'Model Minority,'" Media Studies Journal, 8, 3 (Summer
1994), 49-61.
7lJohn W Dower, War Without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War, New York: Pantheon
Books, 1986,312.
72Ibid, 312.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 69
70 Summer 1999
Project Chariot, Nuclear Zeal, Easy
Journalism and the Fate of Eskimos
By John Merton Marrs
A federal government proposal to detonate up to five nuclear bombs in
northwest Alaska was greeted in 1958 with routine news coverage in Alaska's
two largest newspapers and in The New York Times. The press coverage
followed routine patterns, framed the proposal in progressive economic terms
and favored government sources until after I960, when articles that repre-
sented the Native Alaskan point of view and questioned the Natives' safety
began to appear in alternative media. The same mainstream media tendencies
that earlier produced coverage that ignored the Natives ultimately resulted in
recognition of their cause and helped to prevent the project's completion.
The circumpolar arctic tundra is a unique environment on
this planet, having no counterpart in the southern hemi-
sphere. Not infrequently it is described as remote, desolate,
barren, and climatically rigorous. Probably none of these
adjectives is accurate, and possibly they are misleading.
— Committee on Environmental Studies for Project Chariot, 1966'
Project Chariot, proposed publicly in 1958, was a plan to
detonate five nuclear bombs to excavate a harbor in north
west Alaska. The announcement of the plan by the Atomic
Energy Commission (AEC) began a four-year controversy that awakened
Eskimos to their political interests and helped stimulate a national
environmental movement. The controversy unfolded amid international
cold war tensions and public anxiety over the prospects of nuclear war and
John Merton Marrs teaches journalism at Everett (Wash.) Community College. This paper is
based on research as a doctoral student at the University of Washington.
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 71
the effects of radiation. Yet the issue unfolded slowly in the pages of the
newspapers, even in Alaska.
The performance of the newspapers was marked by doing business
as usual and by a reluctance to pay attention to the negative side of the
issue until time and other media thrust the fuller issue into the newspa-
pers' laps. This paper argues that this "lap effect" in the end served the
cause of the marginalized Eskimo minority by recognizing the cause once
it gained legitimacy, although the history of Project Chariot shows that
this effect could have come too late in a controversy of less complexity
and longevity.
The venue of controversy was a remote corner of the Arctic, a region
of barren gravel beaches and tundra west of the mountains. Prime-time
news had not dawned on television, and the vortex of the still-new public
debate over atomic energy in the United States manifested in the pages of
the daily newspapers and news magazines. This article analyzes the
performance of daily newspapers in the unusual case of Project Chariot.
How did the press respond to unusual news respecting people outside the
mainstream? Did press coverage portray conflict so that more attention
might be drawn to the issues, or was the Project Chariot proposal pre-
sented as conflict-free?
If coverage failed to uncover conflict in the beginning, did this
change over time? Did any changes in press coverage occur after the
Native cause was recognized in alternative publications outside of Alaska
and after Native groups met to express their protest with one voice? How
did press coverage work out regarding the legitimacy of the issues of
Eskimo rights or environmental hazard? These questions may require
suggesting answers to others, such as: How did the press use or rely on
sources? What mode of operation characterized press performance?
The concept of the "mainstream," defined as the Caucasian majority,
capitalist-adherent population, is central to these considerations.
The author reviewed relevant literature in studies of conflict; of
minority influence; of the inter-related media hypotheses known by the
names of gatekeeping, source reliance and issue framing; of the economics
and politics of hegemony; interviewed principal actors from the time;
studied documents at the Department of Energy in Germantown,
Maryland, and at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks; and analyzed all the
articles about Project Chariot in the Anchorage Daily Times, the Fairbanks
Daily News-Miner and The New York Times between June 1958 and
August 1962.
This analysis focuses on key newspapers in a controversy that was
the genesis of government environmental impact studies, the political
organization of disparate Alaska villages and tribes, and Alaska Native
72 Marrs • Summer 1999
land claims. Project Chariot was an active proposal until August 1962,
and remains controversial for the discovery in 1992 of radioactive material
left behind as an experiment in nuclear waste erosion.2 News articles and
editorial commentaries from the newspapers have been coded paragraph
by paragraph and analyzed quantitatively and qualitatively. The coverage
of Project Chariot manifested 121 articles in the Fairbanks newspaper, 92
in the Anchorage Times and 16 in The New York Times. The latter was
chosen for comparison as an industry standard and as an outside refer-
ence.3
Atomic Energy Commission Never Conceded Danger
The Atomic Energy Commission's initial announcement of an
Alaska nuclear harbor experiment on June 8, 1958, attracted fleeting
attention in Alaska and no singular, immediate notice in 77?^ New York
Times. The Anchorage Daily Times, then Alaska's largest newspaper, printed
the Associated Press (AP) story on page one; the Fairbanks Daily News-
Miner ran the AP report on page three, and the Anchorage Daily News,
then a poor, job-shop competitor of the Times, printed a United Press
report on page one. No additional news stories appeared until July 1 5
when nuclear physicist Edward Teller and at least two colleagues made an
impromptu tour of Juneau, Anchorage and Fairbanks to talk with reporters,
politicians and community leaders. The New York Times first reported the
experiment "between Cape Seppings and Cape Thompson" on page 9, July
20. "Project Chariot," as it would be named, appeared regularly in articles
and editorials for the next 49 months in Alaska and The New York Times.
Those months can be viewed through the analogy of a foot race,
subdivided into laps as follows: July 1958 through May I960, June I960
through May 1961, and from June 1961 to the end. During the first two
years, Teller and the AEC faced some mainstream questions in press
coverage about economic prospects, but the Eskimos and their environ-
ment were discussed only once — in a Fairbanks letter to the editor.
During the next year, Teller left the program and the opposition showed
signs of mounting a challenge. Finally, in the third lap, the challenges won
a balance in coverage. One reality underlay the entire project: the govern-
ment scientists' overweening interest in nuclear blasting and their coinci-
dent dismissal of the arguments of Eskimos and dissenters. The press, by
and large, followed the leaders until late in the race.
The central question involved the government's consideration of
environmental effects. Doubts concerned more than 500 Eskimos, the
wild game they relied on in a harsh wilderness, and the effects that
radioactive fallout might have on their lives.4 The central conflict derived
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 73
from the AEC's inability to acknowledge risk, while repeatedly insisting
that everything would be done to assure the experiment would hurt no
one. In the end, the commissions action was as good as its promises, but
the commission never conceded danger as a reality and documents suggest
that the commission staff never wanted to give up. In the spring of 1962,
the director of the Division of Peaceful Nuclear Explosives recommended
the project's termination, but wrote as he did so that the experiment could
still provide data on nuclear excavation and "the chance of . . . jeopardizing
the lives of the local inhabitants ... is exceedingly remote .... [The]
uncertainties . . . can only be resolved by proceeding . . . ."5
The Project Chariot controversy was actually small amid major
events from 1958 to 1962: the years of Sputnik, the first space flights by
Soviets and by Americans, the Soviet capture of U2 spy plane pilot
Francis Gary Powers, the construction of the Berlin Wall, the failed Bay of
Pigs invasion of Cuba, and extensive nuclear testing that brought the
world to the brink of nuclear war. In Alaska, Project Chariot never ranked
in any of the year-end Top Ten lists of state news in the Anchorage or
Fairbanks papers.
The public worried about nuclear war, and newspaper articles
showed how to build backyard fallout shelters, but disagreement was
widespread regarding radiation dangers. By I960, Teller and a prominent
adversary, Dr. Linus Pauling, were the living icons of the opposing
arguments. Teller professed humanity's ability to control nuclear contami-
nation and Pauling doubted it. Looking back on the debate, Sheldon
Novick wrote in 1969 in "The Careless Atom" that nuclear testing "was
probably the most massive (and unintentional) experiment in biology ever
undertaken, and the results are just beginning to come in."6
Edward Teller Promoted Peaceful Uses
As though to rescue the world from nuclear nightmares, Dr. Teller
(widely nicknamed "the father of the hydrogen bomb") stepped forward
to promote Project Plowshare, a program designed to find peaceful uses
for the nuclear sword. He was director of the University of California's
Livermore Radiation Laboratory, which had proposed the Plowshare
program and which the AEC had charged with the program's direction.
Teller and the AEC envisioned digging harbors and canals (including a
new Panama canal), mining water resources and generating electricity
with nuclear explosions. In theory, money could be saved because nuclear
power could move much more earth per dollar than dynamite.7 Teller
went to Juneau to herald the first beneficial application of nuclear power
under the rubric of Plowshare. He boasted of moving mountains ("just
74 Marrs • Summer 1999
drop us a card") and later averred that atomic power's first victims, the
Japanese, could be the first major beneficiaries of the peaceful application
of nuclear explosion technology.8 The first step was to be a harbor at
Cape Thompson.
Eskimos Overlooked in Early Planning
Teller's plan to rescue Alaska's frozen north from its stereotypically
useless status as barren waste was a dream of the mainstream culture. The
other side of the story centers on the 5,000-year-old Eskimo culture of
Point Hope, Alaska, where Native hunters in the fall of 1958 were
surprised to find AEC workers in the Ogotoruk Valley. The AEC had not
bothered to notify the inhabitants of villages so far away, yet so near.9
Here lay the crux of the problem. The 300 Eskimo citizens of Point
Hope, who lived 32 miles north of ground zero, were of such little
account in the thought of the majority culture, as represented by govern-
ment agents and the press, that they were simply not considered in the
project's first-stage work. The Eskimos had thrived in the Arctic environ-
ment for centuries, but their subsistence lifestyle was alien to the main-
stream. Teller told the press the government had looked all over the world
for the best site, yet this search was actually paperwork, compiled by a
consulting firm without setting foot in northwest Alaska.10
Project Chariot drew no opposition in the villages at first. Some
Natives gained part-time field work with AEC. Point Hope had been in
regular contact with white people for more than 100 years, and the village
included an Episcopal church. Point Hope's economy was not 100
percent subsistence. A number of the village men had served in the armed
forces and many worked summer jobs in Fairbanks to earn money for
housing materials, heating oils, flour and hunting materials for whaling
and for shooting caribou."
The Eskimos were not party to the public debate through 1958 and
early 1959 over the harbor proposed in their hunting area. The debate,
such as it was, occurred in the mainstream press and in the meetings of
chambers of commerce over whether Alaska would benefit economically
from a harbor on the Chukchi Sea coast. Teller and others envisioned the
Eskimos as new- age coal miners. But on June 26, 1959, the Anchorage
Times reported that Teller conceded during a press conference that there
was no foreseeable economic value for a Cape Thompson harbor. The
cape was icebound eight or nine months of the year, and mineral deposits
were not in fact close enough to be transported to the site except at great
expense.12
The Daily News-Miner buried this resolution of the great economic
debate in a continuation on an inside page four days later. The scientists
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 75
still hoped to test their hypotheses about nuclear excavation and pressed
on with a public relations campaign aimed at winning over Alaskans. The
project was downsized— from 2.4 megatons to 460 kilotons.13 Livermore
and AEC scientists said the hole could still be used if anyone wanted to
pay for harbor improvements, and the notion of a harbor persisted to the
very end when the final AEC press release described Project Chariot as "a
small scale harbor."14
Over months doubts emerged in Point Hope. A geographer, Don
Charles Foote, hired from McGill University by AEC, became troubled
by likely effects on the Eskimos. Other scientists from the University of
Alaska developed doubts, notably botanist Leslie Viereck, who on Decem-
ber 29, 1960, resigned from the project, effectively accusing the AEC of
lying about research findings. He became president of the Alaska Conser-
vation Society and later campaigned publicly against the project.15
Point Hope's Episcopal minister, Keith Lawton, joined the doubters,
as did two New Hampshire businessmen, Joe Haddock, who visited Point
Hope in the summer of I960, and his friend Max Foster, both Episcopal
parishioners.16 The two lobbied Congress and also contacted university
scientists with the Greater St. Louis Committee for Nuclear Information
(CNI), a group that included Barry Commoner of Washington Univer-
sity, who would become a leading spokesman for environmental causes.
This was one of at least two Eskimo links to CNI. LaVerne Madigan,
national secretary of the Association for American Indian Affairs, also
made sure the Eskimos and CNI knew each other.17 In time, as CNI
studied Project Chariot, the committee connected with some of the field
researchers, including Foote, Viereck, and William Pruitt, and the Eski-
mos' circle of friends grew.18 This was the beginning of a political mobili-
zation that would culminate in an unprecedented meeting of disparate
Native groups in northern Alaska.
A Clash of Cultures
The Eskimos of Point Hope first protested in November 1959 in a
letter to the AEC.19 Eventually, the Chariot officials were persuaded they
must deal with Point Hope and, in March I960, three men visited the
village. What occurred was a clash of cultures that only assured the
Eskimos their fears were well founded. Lawton attended the meeting. His
notes show that the visitors presented a technical film with a technical
narration the residents little understood. The villagers' elemental ques-
tions were not answered except by sweeping assurances that no harm
would come to them.20
76 Marrs • Summer 1999
The AEC did extend its program of environmental studies. This was
significant for at least two reasons: it expanded the purpose of the studies
and lengthened the project's lead time. AEC had a program of environ-
mental studies from the beginning, but the original purpose was simply to
collect "before" data to compare with "after" data from the blast; now the
studies took on the larger purpose of considering the Eskimos' welfare
rather than only the effects upon them. This elemental shift went unre-
ported in the press beyond pro forma reports that there would be 50
researchers in the Ogotoruk Valley for the summer of 1 960. The full
environmental report would not be published until 1966, but dissenting
researchers made reports to CNI, which proved to be as public relations
conscious as Teller and the AEC.
In June 1961, CNI devoted a full edition of its bulletin, Nuclear
Information, to Project Chariot. At the core of the report:
• radioactive fallout concentrates in lichen, a rootless plant that
takes its sustenance not from the soil but straight from the air;
• caribou live on lichens, including places like Cape Thompson's
Ogotoruk Valley where winds sweep off the snow and expose
the delicate tundra plant life;
• Eskimos eat caribou, up to 30 percent of their diet.
The bottom line was troubling. Even though radioactive fallout fell
in lighter quantities in polar regions than elsewhere, the effect of the
Eskimo food chain was to concentrate the radioactivity such that Eskimos
carried much more radioactivity than other Americans. Commoner and
CNI did not directly oppose the project but argued that no one knew
what was safe, and that the AEC could not assure that no one would be
harmed by blasting Chariot.21 The timing of CNI's bulletin proved
critical. It followed shortly after the Sierra Club Bulletin reprinted
Viereck's story from the Alaska Conservation Society, and it stimulated
further coverage of the issue nationally by the wire services and magazines.
With support from the Association for American Indian Affairs,
Alaska's Eskimos held an unprecedented meeting in Barrow in November
1961 under the name "Inupiat Paitot," a reference to "people's heritage."
The Natives took a stand that the lands surrounding their villages (includ-
ing Cape Thompson) were historically theirs, that they held legitimate
rights to these lands, and the government had no right to the use of the
land without their consent. Neither the Anchorage Times nor The New
York Times covered the conference, but the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 77
sent reporter Tom Snapp. The rest of the press thus covered this singular
Native American event second hand. This story was the culmination of a
significant change in coverage by the Fairbanks newspaper, as will be
shown.22
When the AEC actually set Chariot on the shelf, The New York
Times told the story in only three AP paragraphs. In the third paragraph,
the AEC conceded nothing, saying that "information expected to be
gained from the project was now available or might be developed from
other experiments."23 AEC's project chief had written in an internal
memorandum:
However, on balance, it would appear that the most seriously
adverse effect of the decision to cancel . . . would be the
lasting impression on certain officials and on public opinion
generally that there was really some danger to the local
inhabitants after all.24
New Territory for Press Coverage
This study explores the role of the press in Project Chariots transfor-
mation from project to reject. Throughout the period from 1958 to 1962
Project Chariot had a public dimension as part of Project Plowshare. As a
plan for civil uses of nuclear technology, Plowshare work was ostensibly
above board and public rather than classified. In practice, the AEC had
broad military security powers, and an uncertain volume of documenta-
tion remained under classification review more than 30 years later.25
Yet the AEC's public relations campaign and the nature of the
program brought Plowshares Projects Chariot, Gnome and Sedan
extensive, issue-oriented news coverage. This was new territory for news
organizations, accustomed by the secrecy of wartime atomic research to
receiving only what their government considered newsworthy.26 How did
the press respond to unusual news respecting people beyond the main-
stream? Did press coverage portray conflict and debate? Did coverage
manifest change over time? What reporting methods or practices were
evident, including the use of sources, in the way the press handled Project
Chariot?
To analyze such press performance, a framework was needed that
encompassed the nature of the press as well as the nature of the issues
under consideration. This study examines the articles published in Alaska's
two primary daily newspapers of the day, the Anchorage Times and the
Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, and the nation's then most-ubiquitous daily,
78 Marrs • Summer 1999
The New York Times. The analytical framework includes the nature of
minorities and influence in public politics and the role of conflict as a
mechanism of interaction and communication. Questions of minorities
and press treatment deal as well with the legitimation of minority points
of view. The importance of influence and its relationship to conflict has
been studied in social psychology and communications. Moscovici in
1976 showed how the social control value of the majority culture, or
mainstream, relies on the "painless resolution of conflicts" to help main-
tain a "single view of reality" in support of the status quo.27 He wrote that
conflict is "at the root of uncertainty" as people vie to make others unsure
of their opinions, and "the greater the conflict the more profound the
uence.
Tichenor, Donohue and Olien, in extensive research of Minnesota
communities and news media, have shown that the portrayal of conflict
over issues helps to increase public attention and tends also to narrow the
"knowledge gap" with "an increased likelihood in a conflict that citizens
of all status levels will acquire information."29 Similarly, Hornig studied
readers' feelings of powerlessness in relation to science news and found
that conflict or the representation of ambiguity among supposed experts
gave readers an enhanced sense of power as opposed to when all experts
seemed to agree.30 Thus it appears that press portrayals can attract atten-
tion, stimulate doubt and lend legitimacy to arguments. The obverse
supposition is that without conflict, little information is acquired, or the
information purveyed tends only to support the status quo and not to
stimulate change.
Hallin illustrated the importance of gaining legitimacy in order for a
minority point of view to win recognition. In his model of news status,
Hallin depicts concentric circles in which the inner circle is the sphere of
consensus, the middle circle the sphere of legitimate controversy, and
everything beyond that circle the sphere or domain of the deviant, or
those who are not recognized in the inner circles. The move from devi-
ance into legitimate controversy is critical, for it is only there that issues
win debate. Issues in deviance are largely ignored, while matters in
consensus are accepted as given.31
In separate studies on minority influence, Moscovici and Gerard
found that such a move into legitimate controversy is critical to minority
achievement in conflict with a majority. Once a minority achieves cred-
ibility, it may even enjoy a tactical advantage, as described by Gerard:
The majority establishment . . . tends to be deaf to currents of
opinion that might undermine their vested interests, whereas
the marginal minority, with no such stake, can afford to be
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 79
open . . . The closed, confirming, biased stance of the majority
... is the seed of the majority's eventual undoing.32
Moscovici concluded that a group creates conflict when it resists
conforming to the majority and proposes an alternative. Consistent
pressure can bring its viewpoint to the fore and such a group "thus forces
everyone to take its alternative into consideration."33
In reference to Alaska, circa 1959, the terms "mainstream" and
"majority culture" will be used here synonymously as references to the
white, Judaeo-Christian majority population, and its capitalist, frontier
land-use ethic. The minority in this study is actually a coalition: the
Eskimos, small in number and separated from the majority by geography
and an aboriginal culture; and dissenting members of the mainstream,
chiefly university scientists and conservationists. In the course of Project
Chariot, these groups effectively coalesced around the Eskimo cause.
Mainstream Press: Benign or Malignant?
In this study's conceptual framework, where does the press fit? The
consensual view in Alaska, then as now, favored progress and boosterism.
The new state's majority culture was flush with the triumph of statehood
in 1959, and the Anchorage Times and its publisher, Robert Atwood, were
at the forefront. In the American experience, such boosterism was com-
mon in the frontier press.34 Behind the slogan of the "Last Frontier" in
Alaska, there ran a strong thread of a frontier spirit and an accompanying
boosterism that Atwood championed as much as if not more than any-
one.3'' In Fairbanks, publisher C.W. Snedden was a newcomer by Alaska
standards, but he embraced the booster mentality, serving the new Alaska
State Chamber of Commerce as president.36
Such publishers held a stake in a kind of progressive status quo and
as such were members of the mainstream, majority culture. Yet this is not
a study of publishers alone, and here a full picture of newspaper press
performance requires an additional frame of reference. In Human Behav-
ior and the Principle of Least Effort, Zipf hypothesized that people are
prone to find paths that work, and to rely on them in ways that create and
reinforce a status quo.
The principle holds that humans seek efficiency in terms of the least
effort required to achieve a given result, and then repeat the behavior
rather than risk new effort. Thus habits are born.37 The principle is put
forward here as a single container for other hypotheses — newsroom
80 Marrs* Summer 1999
socialization, gatekeeping, agenda setting, source reliance and issue
framing — to be dealt with as a whole, accepting their common emphasis
on how the press does its job, but rejecting for the purposes of this study
arguments of distinction and cause and effect. The principle of least effort
also offers an alternative explanation to the conspiratorial implication
made in some analyses that press complicity, rather than expedience or
habit, is at work in repressing minorities and upholding the majority
status quo. The proposition here suggests that complicity resulting merely
from sloth or habit is susceptible to change. It is assumed that a conscious
application of ideology would not be so amenable to change. In other
words, the assumption suggests that a slothful press can manifest changes
that a conspiratorial press would refuse; that the mainstream press at its
worst may be benign rather than malignant.
This inquiry includes questions of how issues are framed in the
news, which issues are portrayed as newsworthy, and how news organiza-
tions use sources. Thus, the question of how the press performs contains
within it a subsidiary question: Does press performance manifest an
aspect of news coverage by rote rather than by the rigorous search for
truth that the press often claims as its nature? Does the press use and rely
on readily available sources, habitual sources, or those sources with a
vested interest in one point of view? Or does the press seek out the hard
interview or the unusual answers?
One model of the difference between using routine sources and
methods or seeking out alternative views was displayed by the Seattle
Times in its coverage of another Alaska story, the Exxon Valdez oil spill in
1989. In Smith's analysis of the Exxon Valdez coverage, the Pulitzer Prize,
taken as an award that recognizes exemplary journalism, was earned by
the Seattle Times because its reporters and editors avoided routine, easy
approaches to find perspectives that other media ignored.38
Certain assumptions undergird this study. The first is that Project
Chariot would have harmed the Eskimos and their lifestyle. Disagree-
ments about fallout effects go back to the 1940s.39 Yet evidence of harm
from nuclear testing has been documented in Kazakhstan, where the
Soviet Union detonated some 500 nuclear weapons, as well as among
island peoples of the Pacific testing area used by the United States.40, 41
The second and primary assumption is that this case study is
generalizable, for its place in the past is the recent past and not the far past
and lies well within prevailing press norms of the practice of objectivity
and fair play. The press by the late '50s was accustomed to portraying
itself as the watchdog of government. Further, issues central to this study,
Summer 1999 • American Journalism
including a call for the press to be open to minority points of view, were
promoted prominently a decade earlier in the Report of the Commission
on Freedom of the Press.42
Early Studies Criticized Coverage
Several studies of Project Chariot have been published. Four retro-
spective works have been published since 1986, each critical of Alaska's
mainstream press for supporting the project without regard for the
Eskimos of the region or the environment. The earliest major critiques of
Project Chariot were the reports in the Sierra Club Bulletin in May
1961,43 by the Committee for Nuclear Information in June 196144 and
by Harpers magazine in 1962.4:i These reports did not address media
questions.
The recent studies have been qualitative examinations that (among
other arguments) suggested active press bias without attempting to
account for the full range of press coverage and publicity. In "An Authen-
tic Voice in the Technocratic Wilderness: Alaskan Natives and the Tundra
Times," authors Patrick Daley and Beverly James viewed Project Chariot
from a communications perspective in light of the Gramscian concept of
hegemony. The authors offer an extensive critical analysis of the events in
two issues affecting Alaska Natives: Project Chariot and the coincident
federal enforcement of a waterfowl hunting ban near Barrow.
The paper shows how Natives resorted to media, the founding of the
Tundra Times, to gain access into Alaska's mass media. It aptly critiques
the failings of the mainstream press to confront the issues, but it also fails
to measure or acknowledge press changes during the controversy or to
explore ways in which Eskimos, scientists and conservationists were able
to enter the public debate through the mainstream media. The Tundra
Times actually came too late to the rescue, publishing its first edition after
Project Chariot was suspended.
In the Daley and James view, whether it was hegemony or home-
town boosterism, the result was the same:
In Alaska, this process was played out in the press whenever issues
of economic development offered promises of economic payoff
through the quick fixes of scientific, technological, and military
expertise. Any dissent could be managed by appealing to the
technical and scientific knowledge of legitimated experts. Claims
could be asserted under the professional rules of objectivity and
impartiality . . . legitimated sources could command newspaper
space . . . with little threat of challenge . . . .46
82 Marrs • Summer 1999
An extensive Project Chariot account came from a British researcher,
Peter Coates, in his book, The Trans-Alaska Pipeline Controversy. In laying
the groundwork for the pipeline story, Coates first details the history of
two presaging proposals, Project Chariot and Rampart Dam, an abortive
plan to dam the Yukon River. The Coates book has a lengthy bibliography
and extensive notations, and traces the history of the country's colonial
use of Alaska to modern Alaska boosterism. Coates addresses Native
concerns and sketches press coverage of Project Chariot, including the
boosterism of publishers Atwood and Snedden, without posing any
research question about press performance.47 Coates concluded that the
argument over Chariot was "how the proposal jeopardized the Native way of
life . . . and the inseparability of humankind from the rest of nature . . . ."48
Coates took his lead from an historical account of the controversy,
"Project Chariot: How Alaska Escaped Nuclear Excavation," published in
1989 in the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists by Dan O'Neill.49 O'Neill's is an
extensively researched, compact history, touching on all the major points
of Project Chariot, but it deals only peripherally with the press. He later
expanded his report to book length.50 One other book, Art and Eskimo
Power: The Life and Times of Alaskan Howard Rock by Lael Morgan,
includes four chapters about Project Chariot, but deals with the media
only anecdotally.51
This literature tells much of the history of Project Chariot but has
examined the news media role only secondarily and hypothetical ques-
tions about minority influence not at all. It seems insufficient to quote a
few editorials that seem outrageous in the light of 1986 or 1989, and to
conclude that Project Chariot was a botch job by the mainstream press.
The studies published so far do not tell us whether the press failed to
portray conflict, failed to report the Eskimo viewpoint, or failed to tell
oppositional sides of the story.
The "Frontier" Alaska Press Cheered Project Chariot
The Alaska press in 1958 was not metropolitan. The Anchorage
Times was the largest newspaper and passed 20,000 in circulation during
the Project Chariot period. The next largest papers were the Fairbanks
Daily News-Miner and the Anchorage Daily News with roughly 10,000
circulation each.52 The Daily News was then a sideline published by a
printing shop operator, and was not taken very seriously.53, 54 There were
only three other daily newspapers in the state, totaling fewer than 9,000
subscribers in Juneau, Ketchikan and Sitka.
Anchorage and Fairbanks had commercial radio stations. Television
was available, but there were no satellite links, network programming
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 83
wasn't live and newscasting efforts were slight. Alaska TV viewers waited
to see programs that were broadcast at least a week earlier in the lower 48
states. United Press had a representative in Anchorage. The Associated
Press operated a one-man Alaska bureau in Juneau, the new state's capital
city. Juneau was almost as far as one could be from Point Hope and still
be in the same state, a distance roughly equal to that between Chicago
and San Francisco, but here there was no road from one to the other, no
train tracks, no regularly scheduled airline, and no telephone lines.
In Alaska's two largest cities, the Anchorage Times and the Fairbanks
Daily News-Miner cheered the AEC, following every official visit of Teller
or other AEC representatives with editorials and largely one-sided news
reports. 5S Anchorage's Atwood stood second to no one as an Alaska and
Anchorage booster, and manifested little interest in any journalistic ethic
that would separate him from his favorite causes. He chaired the State-
hood Committee while his newspaper promoted statehood without pause
or caution, both in editorial comment and in choices of coverage and
emphasis.
When it came to the AEC proposal, he recalled, "We were always
pro, positive and go-for-it; go ahead." He had editorialized that the
newspaper was for the people and that his concerns were those that
reflected the most good for the most people.'6 Now his newspaper said
editorially that Alaskans had to trust in progress and the experts who,
after all, were the ones who understood nuclear technology. S7 Atwood had
published the Times since buying it in 1935 when Anchorage was a town
of 2,500 on the shore of Cook Inlet. It could be said that Atwood married
Anchorage, for his purchase of the newspaper virtually coincided with his
marriage to Evangeline Rasmuson, daughter of the town's and eventually
the state's No. 1 banker. What was good for Anchorage's economy was
good for the Atwoods, and what was good for the Atwoods from 1942 on
was an almost constantly increasing federal presence.
The federal government put Anchorage at the heart of Alaska,
choosing to route the Alaska Railroad from ports at Seward and Whittier
through Anchorage to the Interior, and siting Air Force and Army bases
just across the river from the city. By 1958, some 70,000 people lived in
Anchorage and Atwood was selling almost 20,000 newspapers a day six
days a week. Few members of his newspaper's audience were Alaska
Natives, and some of those were Indians rather than Eskimos. In 1960,
Alaska's urban population was 85,767; the white majority numbered
76,131; African Americans 3,414; Indians 3,524; "Other" 1,972; and
Asians 1,769. The Eskimos were part of the "other" category.58
In Fairbanks, C.W Snedden came along in the mid-1950s as a
newspaper efficiency expert who had been hired to size up the Daily
84 Marrs • Summer 1999
News-Miner and make recommendations to its publisher, Austin "Cap"
Lathrop, a successful businessman who also owned radio stations. When
Lathrop didn't like the bottom line of Snedden's recommendations,
Lathrop said that he wished he had someone to buy it. Snedden took him
up on the idea.59
Fairbanks had benefited from federal spending as Anchorage had.
Fairbanks was the terminus of the Alaska Highway, the home of Ladd Air
Force Base and the city nearest to Fort Greely. Construction was under
way on early-warning system radar stations in the north. Neither the
Anchorage Times nor the Fairbanks News-Miner was in the business of
questioning federal spending in Alaska, let alone in a distant corner which
some believed to be a barren waste. If the feds could make Cape Thomp-
son worth something — in the capitalist, land-profiting sense of worth —
then this was all to the good.60 A sympathetic biographer wrote that
Atwood "celebrated" Project Chariot as "tailor-made for the remote and
sparsely settled region."61 The News-Miner unabashedly welcomed Teller
and the AEC in its editorial columns, quoting Teller and concluding: "We
say to Dr. Teller and his fellow scientists: Alaska welcomes you. Tell us
how we can help."62
Economics Versus Invisible Eskimos
The only early arguments in the press about the merits of Project
Chariot were about economics and were among members of the majority
culture. Early press reports usually made no mention of the presence of
Native residents, and their use of the land was not an issue.
Despite common interests in boosterism and federal spending, the
Fairbanks News-Miner and the Anchorage Times were not twins. Anchor-
age was the hub of Alaska's mainstream economy, and Native influence
was slight — economically and socially. Fairbanks, the commercial center
of the north, was much closer to the villages and enjoyed significant ties
to the life and economy of the Yukon River, the traditional "highway" to
the coast. The Fairbanks newspaper's interest in the villages was evident in
its publication of rural correspondent reports. Two Fairbanks editors,
George Sundborg and his successor, Cliff Cernick, recalled that the Daily
News-Miner was noted for these columns, often written in folksy styles or
even broken English.63' 64
The number of rural correspondent columns in the newspaper's
pages doubled during Cernick's editorship, the middle years of the Project
Chariot period. The News-Miner network of correspondents included
Allen Rock of Point Hope, brother of the founding editor of the Tundra
Times, and Guy Okakok of Barrow, who would become a principal actor
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 85
in the Natives' first area-wide conference in 1961. These connections led
the News-Miner to other Native news, such as school crowding or a
critical shortage of heating fuel in Barrow, that did not appear in the
Anchorage newspaper.6- 6<s The rural correspondents provided a steady
flow of anecdotal evidence of the Native lifestyle and the importance of
hunting for food. Clearly the News-Miner, unlike the Times, included the
Native population within its newspaper community, yet this newspaper in
the late '50s was just as clearly a mainstream publication, complete with
Ann Landers, Blondie and the daily horoscope.
In the 1980s, William Tobin, then an editor with the Anchorage
Times, explained why Natives were not included in that newspaper's
concept of its role.
I think it's perfectly proper that the white establishment press
doesn't tell the Native side. We are not out for a particular
cause. We don't have a Native affairs reporter; but we don't
have a military affairs reporter, either.67
Another way of stating this argument would be that the Times viewed
itself precisely as a newspaper of the majority culture. In Fairbanks, the
newspaper's definition of community was more inclusive. The Anchorage
Times never sent a reporter to Point Hope; the News-Miner did, once in
1959.
Tobin said that when he was AP's Alaska reporter from 1956 to
I960 he never dreamed of going to Point Hope or any place in the
Bush.68 There might as well have been no way to get there, Tobin said,
and that wasn't what he was there for. "We were covering the building of a
new state," he said, referring to the organization starting in January 1959
of the state government. He remembered Project Chariot as something he
had to worry about only when Edward Teller came to town.69
Effort and expense were the costs of reporting news in the Bush.
Further, it was doubtful whether a reporter could file stories because of
irregular communications links. All of this probably discouraged assign-
ment editors with limited staffs. Sources from the AEC, Teller's Livermore
laboratory, and the Chambers of Commerce were available; Eskimos were
not. Atwood said he doesn't remember being offered any flights to Point
Hope and wasn't anxious to go there. Project Chariot was "way out there
where nobody was around and couldn't get hurt," as he remembered in
the spring of 1993. "We didn't do that much [coverage], you know.
Unless some scientist or engineer who was working on it would say
something. It [Chariot news] had to pretty much fall in our laps."
Atwood added, "We were pretty much writing about things we didn't
know too much about."70
86 Marrs • Summer 1999
Eskimos Could Be "Stirred up by lawyers . . ."
The AEC fell into their laps more often than the opposition. In 92
articles (including editorials and letters) the Anchorage Times published
regarding Project Chariot, the newspaper cited AEC or Livermore
spokesmen as sources or for other reasons in 444 paragraphs, while citing
village residents, Natives in general or conservationists as sources or actors
154 times. The News-Miner, in its 121 articles (including editorials and
letters), cited AEC sources or actors 613 times while mentioning Natives
or conservationists as sources or actors 294 times. Atwood did not
remember the Eskimos as being very concerned about Chariot. Rather, he
said, "They could be stirred up by lawyers and do-gooders to serve their
ends."71
Keith Lawton, Point Hope's Episcopal minister from 1959 to 1965,
disagreed dramatically with that view. The village had elected a council
since the 1940s. Lawton said he knew the Eskimos as "very political," and
said the village men's exposure to the military and to the cities had made
them astute about cultural differences. Their English writing may have
seemed awkward, but he said they were determined. He helped them
interpret AEC technical language, but they insisted on writing their
letters. "These people are pretty sharp ... as far as being able to assess the
dangers to them that Project Chariot made, yes indeed."72
The News-Miner, meanwhile, in the summer of 1959 sent staff
writer Albro Gregory to Cape Thompson when the AEC invited newspa-
pers to visit. There was one catch: the government did not offer transpor-
tation.73 The only newspaper reporters dispatched were Gregory and — a
year later — Lawrence Davies of The New York Times. Gregory's reporting
produced no breakthroughs. In a four-part series of articles, he relayed the
story as told to him by Livermore and AEC sources, mentioned the
Eskimos only in passing, and did not attribute any information or
arguments to any Eskimo or to any of the University of Alaska researchers
who were then working in the field with AEC.
Atwood said he could not remember the size of the Anchorage Times
news staff then. At least 1 1 staff bylines appeared in 1961-62 and,
following the industry standard of the time (one news staffer per 1 ,000
circulation), it seems reasonable to guess that the news staff numbered 20.
The typical daily edition was 16 to 24 pages long. In Fairbanks, according
to Sundborg, the news staff numbered no more than nine persons. The
typical daily edition was 10 to 16 pages long. An annual "Progress
Edition" in November ran as long as 166 pages, accomplished by con-
tracting a supplemental editor who worked for several weeks with no
other responsibilities. Among other things, this edition showed off the
Summer 1999 •American Journalism 87
prowess of Snedden's print shop operation in which he invested more
pride and dollars than he did in the news department.74
The Neiv York Times worked under stricter limitations in Alaska,
with no staff stationed there. The Chariot stories published in the New
York paper came from Associated Press, from Times staffers working in
Washington, D.C., or from Davies, the paper's West Coast correspondent,
stationed in San Francisco. During the Project Chariot years, Davies twice
filed reports from Alaska, once from Point Hope and once from Anchor-
age.
While Gregory and Davies each made one trip to Point Hope, the
Anchorage Times wound up writing letters to Eskimos asking them to
write back. Two did. The first, a letter from Kivalina, a village of about
100 people 40 miles south of ground zero, was featured in a story follow-
ing up the Barrow conference about whether Natives really opposed
Project Chariot. It quoted the single letter as saying the men of Kivalina
were more interested in AEC jobs than opposing the project. No other
Eskimos were quoted. 7S The second letter, reported in a later story, told
of Point Hope village leader David Frankson's objections to Chariot.76
Alaska and its small-town press may have been suited to a kind of
control Teller and the AEC officials hoped to enjoy over information flow.
Teller made two trips to Alaska, once each in 1958 and 1959. According
to news accounts, Teller's associate director at the laboratory, Gerald
Johnson, made at least two trips; Dr. Harry Keller made one, accompa-
nied by colleagues; AEC Commissioner Leland Haworth and others made
one; Dr. John N. Wolfe, head of environmental studies for the AEC,
made at least two; and a variety of other AEC officials and representatives
of contractors made appearances in the Alaska press during northern trips.
Between visits by scientists and AEC officials, and AP stories quoting
Alaska's Senator Bartlett and Washington's Senator Jackson, the press had
numerous Chariot stories fall in their laps.
Associated Press was a primary source for both the Anchorage Times
and the Fairbanks paper. In Anchorage, 47 percent of the Project Chariot
paragraphs were from non-staffers, almost exclusively the Associated Press.
In Fairbanks, 38.2 percent of all paragraphs were from AP and from
letters to the editor. (The New York Times coding for AP stories was 17.2
percent, but some other "special to the Times" stories appeared to include
information from AP reports.)
Again, official sources were easy to come by and minority sources
were not. Table 1 shows the percentage frequency of paragraph references
during the Teller period in the Anchorage Times, the Fairbanks Daily News-
Miner and The New York Times for sources and actors from the AEC and
its representatives (shown as AEC); for sources and actors from among the
Natives; and as sources only from university scientists, conservationists
88 Marrs • Summer 1999
and other oppositional sources (shown as Opp.). Sources indicate source
reliance and framing by the press, while actors are one indication of
framing, especially when relevant actors are excluded.
Table 1 : Percentage Frequency of References by Paragraph
Newspaper
AEC
AEC
Native
Native
Opp.
source
actor
source
actor
source
Daily Times
27.9
27.2
0.3
7.5
4.8
News-Miner
29.6
26.9
0.3
5.3
5.1
N. Y. Times
34.6
14.1
0
3.8
0
[Daily Times N=574,
News-Miner N=
774; NV Times N=7&.]
The "After-Teller" Effect
With the arrival of summer in I960, Teller left Livermore (and thus
Project Chariot) to work as a university professor on broader issues.
During the next 12 months press coverage manifested changes in sources
of information, in issues covered and in conflicts portrayed. How much of
this shift might be attributed to Teller's high profile public relations and
his aggressive promotional attitude, and how much might be a result of
growing momentum and cohesion among oppositional forces is specula-
tive. This study reveals interesting changes in press performance before
and after Teller's departure, but no direct evidence to prove a "Teller
effect."
Broad, in a critical biography of Teller, portrays an erratic genius
with a Midas touch for publicity.77 Teller himself did not respond to
inquiries about such questions, but his administrative assistant at
Livermore, Gen Phillips, replied that he was not in any event the official
spokesman for either the AEC or the project, and added that "our col-
leagues" believe the speculation here about the Teller effect "is based on an
erroneous assumption," that is, "The tone and amount of newspaper
coverage changed, but it is believed that this was due to increasing public
knowledge about the project, and the actions of a few individuals ada-
mantly opposed to the project."78 The AEC's belief that a few individuals
fueled the opposition was documented in 1961 when Brig. Gen. A.W.
Betts compiled a "top ten" list that included Don Foote, Keith Lawton,
the men in New Hampshire, Les Viereck, the Alaska Conservation
Society and CNI.79
The question, however, was not whether Teller was the official
spokesman for Project Chariot, but whether he acted as such — either on
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 89
his own volition or as a result of news reporting. In fact, Teller and Wolfe
were cited explicitly more often than any other officials as sources or as
project leader in news stories about Project Chariot in the Anchorage
Times and in the Fairbanks Neivs-Miner. Teller was so cited in 34 articles;
Wolfe in 22. Teller's associate director was so cited 21 times. No one else
came close, and Rod Southwick, the AEC's public information spokes-
man, was so cited in only eight articles.80
By the time CNI's June 1961 bulletin brought the Project Chariot
issue to a head, nuclear testing in the atmosphere was well under way in
the Soviet Union and was about to be resumed in the United States. This
heightened general awareness and anxiety about fallout produced many
newspaper articles, in Alaska as elsewhere, about local radiation levels,
fallout and fallout shelters. Yet none of these articles related the fallout
issue to Project Chariot. That issue was left to CNI, the Greater St. Louis
Citizens Committee for Nuclear Information. The committee's bulletin,
Nuclear Information, reported how radioactive fallout concentrates in the
lichen the caribou eat before the Eskimos eat the caribou. The committee
reported that the effect of the Eskimo food chain was to concentrate
radioactivity inside the Eskimos.81
The committee's report created controversy that resulted in portray-
als of conflict in the Anchorage Times, in the Fairbanks News-Miner, and in
The New York Times. Other media outlets also took interest, such as The
Christian Science Monitor, which ran a major article and followed thereaf-
ter with occasional reports. But the critical difference that came in Alaska
was a decision at the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner to cut the fetters from
reporter Tom Snapp, who had been arguing for coverage of the opposi-
tional cause. He produced a four-part series detailing the Native concerns
in August 1961. Snapp's reportorial recognition of the Eskimos' argu-
ments as legitimate controversy marked a notable mainstream press
breakthrough. Most of the conflict that found its way into print in the
spring and summer of 1961 had been arguments about Eskimos; Snapp
presented views of the Eskimos.
Alaska's Eskimos took a stand in the fall of 1961. The different
Eskimo villages, finding common cause in Project Chariot and the eider
duck controversy, and with support from the Association for American
Indian Affairs, held a meeting in Barrow in November in which the
villages acted in concert for the first time. The story was reported in the
Anchorage Times on November 20, 1961 , in six paragraphs on page three
and in The New York Times over four columns on an inside page on
Sunday, December 3, 1961. These reports were second-hand reports,
drawn from wire service versions of the reporting of Tom Snapp, the only
reporter who attended the Eskimo meeting. The Daily News-Miner
published Snapp's account on page one, and followed up in a later edition
90 Marrs • Summer 1999
with a full page of his photographs of the event. This exposure, combined
with the CNI bulletin news, bears the marks of confirming the Eskimo
cause as an occupant of Hallin's Sphere of Legitimate Controversy. Deeper
analysis revealed stronger indications that the breakthrough into legiti-
macy was achieved and that news coverage changed.
Quality of Coverage Changed
Media performance was not static. The content analysis for this
study produced a variety of calculations to support the proposition that
the quality of Project Chariot news coverage did change over time, that
the minority achieved a breakthrough into legitimacy in the news, and
that the newspapers adhered to the principle of least effort in their
approaches to reporting the story. Evidence of these changes is found by
extending the calculations used in Table 1 to the full period of study.
The percentage of frequencies for AEC sources and actors, Native
sources and actors, and other oppositional sources shows little change
from the first period (the Teller years) to the second or transitional period.
But in the final period, comprising the 1 5 months after CNI's special
bulletin edition on Project Chariot, Alaska Natives move from virtual
invisibility to representation in almost half of the paragraphs appearing in
the Fairbanks News-Miner articles and nearly one-third of the paragraphs
in the Anchorage Times.
Table 2: Percentage Frequency
of References by Paragraphs
, 1958-62
These figures com
pare reference percentages in
paragra
:>hs in
June 1961 throug
i August
1962 with the same percentages for
the earlier periods
of this study for each newspaper.
Newspaper
AEC
AEC
Native
Native
Opp.
source
actor
source
actor
source
Daily Times
15.1
20.1
12.1
17.6
6.5
June '60-61
28.0
26.2
0
9.3
14.0
June '58-60
27.9
27.2
0.3
7.5
4.8
News-Miner
12.1
18.2
6.5
40.6
20.6
June '60-61
21.5
29.2
0
7.6
16.0
June '58-60
29.6
26.9
0.3
5.3
5.1
NY Times
17.4
26.8
6.5
16.7
6.5
June '60-61
30.4
15.2
6.5
21.7
0
June '58-60
34.6
14.1
0
3.8
0
[Sample for June 1960 through May 196'
: Daily Th
iesN=107,News-
MinerN=l44, NYTimes
N=46; and June 1961 -Aug
ust 1962: Dad)
Times N=
1 99, News-Mitier N=340, NY Times N= 1 38.]
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 91
Change in source choices and an indication of a shift in emphasis
were also supported by frequencies regarding business sources and actors,
and those for conservationists. Before June I960 (while the Alaska
newspapers were covering Chamber of Commerce debates), business
sources and actors appeared in 44 paragraphs (7.7 percent) in the Anchor-
age Times, 47 paragraphs (6 percent) in the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner,
and 2 paragraphs (2.5 percent) in The New York Times. Afterward,
business sources virtually disappeared; there were none in either Times
newspaper and a single occurrence in the Fairbanks paper. Thus, such
sources dropped from 6.5 percent of paragraphs in the first two years to
.001 percent in the remaining two. Conservationists, on the other hand,
followed an inverse pattern, from near invisibility to marginal visibility.
They appeared only in the Fairbanks newspaper for the first two years
(2.3 percent in the News-Miner and 1.2 percent overall), but in 8.7
percent of all paragraphs thereafter.
Two events mark change in the resolution of Project Chariot, as well
as in the nature of its news coverage. The first was the departure in mid-
1960 of Edward Teller as a pointman for Project Chariot. The second was
the publication by CNI in June 1961 of an edition of its Nuclear Informa-
tion that was devoted to the project and to an issue the AEC and the press
had not disclosed: the peculiar relationship of the Eskimo to a unique
food chain and radioactivity. After June I960, as has been shown, change
manifested in the pages of the Anchorage Times and Fairbanks News-
Miner, after June 1961 this change accelerated.
One change was a decelerated rate of reporting. Teller left Project
Chariot at the halfway point of the period involved in this study, but well
more than half of the coverage occurred during the two years he headed
the Livermore laboratory. The Anchorage Times, for example, published 64
stories during the two years, and just 28 stories afterward. In all three
newspapers, 1,426, or 59.4 percent of all paragraphs in articles about
Project Chariot, appeared in print during Teller's two years. Whatever the
reasons, Teller's leadership brought more stories to the newspapers than
found their way into print after his departure.
The content of the newspapers was also coded for viewpoints.
Percentages show that 13.7 percent of all paragraphs questioned Project
Chariot while Teller was in charge and 28.9 percent did so after he left.
The percentage increased to 31.6 percent after the CNI bulletin of June
1961. This viewpoint thus increased in each successive period: 13.7
percent to 22.9 percent to 31.7 percent.
How often did the newspapers refer to pro-Chariot and oppositional
actors in the same story? These frequencies indicate the portrayal of
conflict, if actors (people mentioned but not cited as sources) both pro
92 Marrs • Summer 1999
and con occur in the same articles more or less often. Such a tally, calcu-
lated at the level of the article rather than the paragraph, subsumes those
articles in which pro-Chariot and oppositional sources appear in the same
story, as the conflicting-source stories virtually always also include pro and
con actors. Table 3 shows these indicators of conflict portrayals by
chronological subdivision. The cases in which the newspapers reported
Native actors and AEC actors in the same article are listed by frequency
and by percentage of articles during each time period.
Table 3: Native Actors Compared with AEC Actors, As a
Percentage of Articles
Paper
6/58-5/60
6/60-6/61
6/61-8/62
Anchorage Times
17 26.5
4 36.4
105 55.5
Fairbanks News
17 23.0
5 29.4
15 50.0
NY Times
1 16.7
2 67.0
4 57.0
Finally, one test provides a finding that some of the key changes
manifested in newspaper coverage over time were statistically significant.
Cross-tabulations of the time periods by paragraph viewpoint, the
presence of Native actors and the presence of keywords all produced
strongly significant findings of association in the newspapers when
calculating for the Chi Square test.82 Six of the nine tests resulted in
findings that the probability of the association occurring by chance was
.001 or less; one was less than .002, and the other two were .007 or less.
For example, in coding for viewpoint (that is, whether the paragraph
contained content questioning the advisability of Project Chariot), the
Anchorage Times data produced a probability level of less than .001 (Chi
Square 32.6 with 2 degrees of freedom and 24.6 minimum expected
frequency), as the frequency of "questioning" viewpoint increased chrono-
logically.
Conflict, Easy Journalism and a Lazy Press
There is little room to doubt that the Anchorage Times and the
Fairbanks News-Miner covered Project Chariot as former publisher
Atwood recalled, that is by reliance on news coming to the newspaper,
rather than by aggressive reporting. The profile does not appear very
different for The New York Times. This was clearly the path of least effort.
The indicated reliance on aggressive sources with special interests suggests
weakness in the newspapers' approach.
Summer 1999 •American Journalism 93
Another conclusion suggested in this study is that the reporting of
the issues of Project Chariot, from 1958 to 1962 in the Alaska newspapers
was not anomalous. The Daily Times and the Daily Neivs-Miner coverage
manifested as many signs of thoroughness as did the Chariot coverage in
The New York Times. Where differences occurred, many tended to favor
the Alaska newspapers, especially the Fairbanks paper. The weakness of
this conclusion is that The New York Times covered Project Chariot with
such a markedly different frequency of reporting that the comparisons
used have all been approximate at best.
The newspapers portrayed virtually no conflict during the first two
years of Project Chariot, and then substantial conflict thereafter. It is
problematical to draw any conclusions that the newspapers focused on
conflict for the evidence, weighted qualitatively, is not strong. Conflict,
when it appeared, seemed to come to the newspaper in such ways that it
had to be treated forthrightly An additional aspect of the problem, one
which finds no hint of a guideline from the work of Moscovici or
Tichenor, et al., is how much conflict? This study did not attempt to
define a standard of how much conflict is significant.
I also have speculated in this study about the impact of Edward
Tellers leadership because of its apparent relationship to Atwood's lap
effect. The evidence is circumstantial, as the data show that dramatic
changes in news coverage and emphasis occurred coincident with Teller's
retirement from the scene. Field geographer Don C. Foote, writing to his
brother in 1961, repeatedly referred to Teller as the leader and chief
salesman of Project Chariot.83 It is possible that Teller's absence from the
Livermore laboratory resulted in a public relations vacuum or a shift to a
circumspective stance among the leaders of the environmental studies,
just as growing oppositional expressions awakened the press to new and
broader questions. The marked decline in the amount of post-Teller
coverage suggests that the answer is not as simple as the increased activism
of oppositional individuals and organizations at work on a lazy press.
The focus of this study has been on the questions of whether the
minority achieved legitimation in or through the press, whether press
coverage manifested change over time, and whether press behavior
exhibited signs of the principle of least effort, particularly in the use of
sources and in story origination. The evidence found here strongly
suggests that the simple answer to all three questions is yes. With more
complexity, the story of Project Chariot shows that the press at its weakest
can claim saving graces, but the story affords no cause for praise. This
study suggests that the saving grace of the principle of least effort, when
applied to the press, is that the press seems to be willing to treat opposi-
tional news fairly, so long as the opposition brings the news to the press.
94 Marrs • Summer 1999
Habitual ways of working and thinking tend to support the status quo
and confront minorities with obstacles when it comes to opposing
mainstream ideology through the media. Their shortest route to recogni-
tion appears to lie in the creation of conflict.
The findings presented here offer a compelling profile of the "lap
effect," to paraphrase Atwood. All the qualitative evidence and the
quantitative data of this study can be easily applied to the principle of
least effort. The Anchorage Times, the Fairbanks News-Miner and The Neiv
York Times did not pursue the basic questions about Project Chariot
aggressively. They relied heavily, especially at the outset, on official and
habitual sources. None challenged government claims of veracity and, in
general, the press manifested a style of coverage designed to save costs and
incidentally to favor technological progressivism as a consensus value of
society.
In terms of the principle of least effort, the newspapers' sights were
set too low to achieve better results. The ability of the minority in time to
win news space, legitimacy and influence seems as much testimony to the
"lap effect" as does the minority's absence from earlier coverage. If the
press were ideologically motivated, the minority might never have ex-
pected any acknowledgment. What we see instead with Project Chariot is
an easygoing press — a watchdog asleep on the porch that is only gradually
roused to the dissonance of new voices and shadowy dangers behind the
well-intended, if ill conceived, offering of a juicy steak.
Endnotes
' Wilimovsky, Norman J., ed. Environment of the Cape Thompson Region, Alaska. Oak Ridge, lean.:
United States Atomic Energy Commission Division of Technical Information, 1966.
2 Department of Energy. "Project Chariot Summary." Germantown, Md.: U.S. Department of
Energy, Record Group 326, U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, Energy History Collection, 1993.
3 Gans, Herbert J. Deciding What's News: A Study of CBS Evening News, NBC Nightly News,
Newsweek and Time, lsted., New York: Pantheon Books, 1979: pp. 180-181.
4 There were three villages in the official fallout zone: Point Hope with approximately 300 residents,
Kivalina with 140 and Noatak with about 75. Point Hope lay 32 miles north of the blast site and
Kivalina 42 miles southeast. Noatak, more than 60 miles away, was not mentioned in any news
accounts.
5 Kelly, John S. "Report to the General Manager by the Director, Division of Peaceful Nuclear
Explosives." Germantown, Md.: Record Group 326, U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, Energy
History Collection, 81 1/104, No. 45, 1962.
''Novick, Sheldon. The Careless Atom, first ed., Boston: Mifflin Company, 1969, p. 97.
7 Sanders, Ralph. Project Plowshare: The Development of the Peaceful Use ofNuclear Explosives.
Washington, D.C.: Public Affairs Press, 1962.
"Teller, Edward. "University of Alaska Commencement Address." Folder 51. Don C. Foote Papers:
University of Alaska Fairbanks archives, 1959.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 95
9 Morgan, Lael. Art and Eskimo Power: The Life and Times of Alaskan Howard Rock. First ed.,
Fairbanks, Alaska: Epicenter Press, 1988, p. 164.
'"E.J. Longyear Co.. "Report to the University of California Radiation Laboratory on the mineral
potential and proposed harbor locations in Northwest Alaska." In E.L. Bartlett Papers, 18 April 1958,
University of Alaska Fairbanks, Box 5, Federal Departments and Agencies; Atomic Energy Commis-
sion.
' ' VanStone, James W. Point Hope: An Eskimo Village in Transition. Seattle: University of Washing-
ton Press, 1962.
12 Brenner, Betty. "Expert Quiet On Red Issue Of 'H-Bomb'." Anchorage Daily Times, 26 June
1959,11.
"O'Neill, Dan. "Project Chariot: How Alaska Escaped Nuclear Excavation." The Bulletin of Atomic
Scientists 45 (10 1989): 28-37.
14 Kelly. "Report to the General Manager by the Director, Division of Peaceful Nuclear Explosives."
'^Snapp, Thomas. "Why Researcher Resigned." Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, 22 August 1961, 3.
"' Lawton, Keith. Telephone interview, 22 April 1993.
' Morgan. Art and Eskimo Power.
15 Viereck and Pruitt were awarded honorary doctorates by the University of Alaska Fairbanks in
1993 for their careers and their work on Project Chariot. They were nominated lor the honor by
university historian Dan O'Neill. Don Foote died after an automobile accident in the late 1960s.
" Point Hope Village Council. "Letter to Atomic Energy Commission." Don C. Foote Papers:
University of Alaska Fairbanks archives, 1959.
211 Lawton, Keith. "Notes on village meeting." Don C. Foote Papers: University of Alaska Fairbanks
archives, 1960. Box 12 (29).
21 Reiss, Eric, ed. Nuclear Information. June 1961 ed., Vol. 3. St. Louis: Greater St. Louis Citizens'
Committee for Nuclear Information, 1961.
"Snapp, Thomas. Interview in Fairbanks, Alaska. 26 June 1993.
23 "Harbor-Blasting Project In Alaska Put Off by U.S." The New York Times, 25 August 1962, 5.
:'1 Kelly. "Report to the General Manager by the Director, Division of Peaceful Nuclear' Explosives." 3.
2,Scroger, Betsy. Conversation at Department of Energy, Germantown, Md. 28 May 1993.
:r' Washburn, Patrick S. "The Office of Censorship's Attempt to Control Press Coverage of the
Atomic Bomb During World War II." Journalism Monographs (120 1990)
27 Moscovici, Serge. Social Influence and Social Change. Vol. 10. Translated by Carol Sherrard, Greta
Heinz. European Monographs in Social Psychology, ed. Henri Tajfel. London: Academic Press, 1976,
p. 96.
2RIbid. 102.
:'' Tichenor, Phillip J., George A. Donohue, and Clarice N. Olien. Community Conflict & the Press.
first ed., Beverly Hills: Sage Publications, 1980, pp. 23-24.
30 Hornig, Susanna. "The Genie Escapes From the Bottle: News Frames and the Phenomenology of
Science News." Dissertation, University of Washington, 1988.
31 Hallin, Daniel C. The Uncensored War: The Media and Vietnam. New York: Oxford University
Press, 1986.
12 Gerard, Harold B. "When and How the Minority Prevails." In Perspectives on Minority Influence,
ed. Serge Moscovici, Gabriel Mugny, and Eddy Van Avermaet. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1985, p. 173.
33 Moscovici, Serge. "Innovation and Minority Influence." In Perspectives on Minority Influence, ed.
Serge Moscovici, Gabriel Mugny, and Eddy Van Avermaet. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1985, p. 21.
34VanHorn, Catherine. "Boosterism on All Borders? A Comparison of Frontier Newspaper Roles in
the United States and Fiji." In the annual meeting of Association for Education in Journalism and
Mass Communications in Montreal, 1992, p. 3.
35 Hanrahan, John and Peter Gruenstein. Lost Frontier: The Marketing of Alaska. New York: WW.
Norton 8c Co. Inc., 1977. See Chapter III, "Citizen Atwood," pp. 42-65.
3r> Sundborg, George. Interview in Seattle, Wash. 1 Sept. 1993.
96 Marrs • Summer 1999
37Zipf, George Kingsley. Human Behavior a)id the Principle of Least Effort. Cambridge: Addison-
Wesley Press Inc., 1949.
38 Smith, Conrad. "News Sources and Power Elites in Newspaper Coverage of the Exxon Valdez Oil
Spill." In the annual meeting of the Association for Education in Journalism and Mass Communica-
tion in Boston, Mass., 1991. For Smiths fuller study, see Media and Apocalypse: News Coverage of the
Yellowstone Forest Fires, Exxon ValAez Oil Spill and the Loma Prieta Earthquake. Westport, Conn.:
Greenwood Press, 1992.
"'Washburn, pp. 28-29.
""Edwards, Mike. "Kazakhstan: Facing the Nightmare." National Geographic, 183 (March 1993):
22-37.
41 Lawsky, David. "Islanders left in path of fallout." Seattle Post-Intelligencer 25 February 1994, A13.
4- The Commission on Freedom of the Press. A Free and Responsible Press. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1947.
1,3 Wood, Ginny Hill and Leslie A. Viereck. "Project Chariot — The Long Look." Sierra Club
Bulletin, May 1961, pp. 4-17.
""Reiss, ed. Nuclear Information.
45 Brooks, Paul and Joseph Foote. "The Disturbing Story of Project Chariot." Harper's Magazine,
April 1962, 60-67.
46 Daley, Patrick and Beverly James. "An Authentic Voice in the Technocratic Wilderness: Alaskan
Natives and the Tundra Times." Journal of Communication (Summer 1986): 13.
47Coates, Peter A. The Trans-Alaska Pipeline Controversy. Bethlehem: Lehigh University Press, 1991.
"sIbid., p. 129.
,'' O'Neill. "Project Chariot: How Alaska Escaped Nuclear Excavation."
5,1 O'Neill's book-length history of the controversy is The Firecracker Boys. New York: St. Martin's
Press, 1994.
sl Morgan. Art and Eskimo Power.
52 Editor & Publisher International Yearbook. New York: Editor and Publisher Co.
53 Fink, Tom. Personal letter, May 12, 1993. Then Mayor of Anchorage, Fink was a businessman
and schoolboard member in the early 1960s.
,4Tobin, William. Telephone interview, 24 April 1993.
55Coates, p. 115.
v'Skidmore, David. Atwood's Alaska: A Place for People. Ketchikan: Ketchikan Daily News and
Allied Daily Newspapers, 1985, p. 6.
5/ How Will Scientists Find The Answer?" Anchorage Daily Times, 10 February 1959, 4.
'"Census, U.S. Bureau of the. U.S. Census of Population: 1960. Vol. 1. Washington, D.C.: U.S.
Government Printing Office, 1963.
^'Sundborg, 1 September 1993.
f,"The original proposed cost to blast the project crater was $5 million, and documents at the
Department of Energy estimated the actual funds expended on the project at its close at $4 million.
The Longyear Co. report to Livermore estimated the costs of actually turning the project into a viable
harbor at more than 10 times the blast cost.
61 Skidmore, p. 8.
''2 "Nuclear Engineering in Alaska." Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, 24 July 1958, 4.
'''Sundborg, 1 September 1993.
MCernick, Cliff. Telephone interview, 8 September 1993.
65 Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, 28 January 1959, 4.
66 Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, 22 January 1960, 1.
" Murphy, James E. and Donald R. Avery. "A Comparison of Alaskan Native and Non-Native
Newspaper Content." Journalism Quarterly GO (1983): 316-322.
In the Alaska lexicon, the word "Bush" when capitalized denotes areas of the state that are not on
the road system.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 97
'"Tobin, 24 April 1993.
711 Atwood, Robert B. Telephone interview, 29 April 1993.
?l Ibid.
7:Lawton, 22 April 1993.
71Southwick, Rod. "Telegram to Cliff Cernick." In Alaska Conservation Society Papers, University
of Alaska Fairbanks, Envelope 45 (28).
''Sundborg, 1 September 1993.
s Bowkett, Jerry. "Eskimo Opinions Vary On Project Chariot." Anchorage Daily Times, 13
December 1961,24.
r- "Point Hope Council Chief Opposes AEC's 'Chariot' Project." Anchorage Daily Times, 3 March
1962,4.
7T Broad, William J. Teller's War. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992.
7X Phillips, Gen. Personal letter, 15 December 1993.
7,'Betts, A.W. "Memorandum for Chairman Seaborg." In Subject: Opposition to Project Chariot,
Washington, DC: Record Group 326, U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, Energy History Collection,
Box 40, 1961.
80 During the second period of this study, June 1960 through May 1961, the leadership of the
project effectively passed to Dr. John Wolfe as head of the environmental study. He had advised the
scientists working on the project to be circumspect about publicity and publication in a 3 December
1959, memorandum, Project Chariot Papers, University of Alaska Fairbanks, Box 1 (1), AEC
Correspondence, Division of Biological Medicine, Wolfe, et al., 1959-66.
81 Reiss, pp. 3-4.
"The coding system categories were refined in pretesting with several coders using articles from the
Anchorage Times. Reliability testing was then done by three coders using one-sixth of the Anchorage
sample, or 15 articles. Substantial difficulty was encountered only with source and viewpoint
categories. "Viewpoint" began as a five-option category. It was refined in stages until it became binary:
"Does the paragraph, read in context, question the advisability of the Project Chariot proposal? 1. Yes;
2. No." The "source" category explanation in the coding book was refined and retested until it
achieved reliability percentages of 90 percent and 95 percent between the author and two separate
coders working with separate samples of 135 paragraphs, the former from Associated Press and the
Daily News-Miner; the latter from the Anchorage Times. Final reliability coding tests were conducted
between the author and one coder on 20 percent of the Fairbanks articles. The results exceeded 94
percent agreement on every category except sources (90 percent) and "hook" (whether the article was
based on specific actions of the Atomic Energy Commission and its representatives). The author and
the coder then discussed the definition of the hook category, and drew a new sample from the Daily
News-Miner and the Associated Press. The final outcome was 95 percent on a sample with 20 stories
and 184 paragraphs. I did the final coding of all units. I tested the stability of my coding by
comparing coding done at different times for 95 paragraphs that appeared identically in the
Anchorage Times and the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner. Of the categories finally used in this analysis,
the stability percentage agreement was 90.5 percent for sources, 92 percent for viewpoint, and greater
than 94 percent for all others. "Keywords" were those such as caribou or food chain that appeared
almost exclusively in references in the context of questioning the advisability of Project Chariot.
83 Foote, Don C. "Notes to his brother, Joe Foote." Don C. Foote Papers: University of Alaska
Fairbanks Archives, Box 10; 1961.
98 Marrs • Summer 1999
Great Ideas
My Newspaper Is Older Than Your
Newspaper!
By Michael R. Smith
Before long the nation's oldest newspaper will celebrate another
anniversary.
Will it be the Maryland Gazette, founded September 19, 1727 by
William Parks?
Or will it be The Hartford Courant, first published October 29, 1764
by Thomas Green?
Or is it The Virginia Gazette, founded August 6, 1736 by William
Parks (the same Parks of the Maryland Gazette)^
Each newpaper makes a distinction on some level, with the Maryland
Gazette displaying the words "America's oldest newspaper" on its front
page, The Courant noting it is "America's oldest continuously published
newspaper" on its page one and The Virginia Gazette saying "Covering
Williamsburg, James City and York since 1736" on its inside page one.
Who's right?
"We claim tongue-in-cheek to be the oldest continuing publishing
company," says gregarious Philip Merrill, chairman and publisher of the
Maryland Gazette, four other Maryland newspapers and The Washingto-
nian magazine.
Tim Hughes of Timothy Hughes Rare and Early Newspapers of
Williamsport, Pennsylvania, agrees that the Maryland Gazette is an old
publisher.
"The first lasted from 1727 to 1734," he says. "Then one lasted but
for a single year in 1779, and another from 1745 through 1839. This one
was 'down' for about six years and was started again in 1845, but it might
have been begun again by a different publisher; in any case it certainly did
not run continuously from 1745 to the present, which the Connecticut/
Hartford Courant can lay claim to."
Michael R. Smith is Director of Journalism Studies at Taylor Univeristy in Fort Wayne,
Indiana.
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 99
No problem. Merrill's not unduly protective of the historic claim,
noting that The Courant has honors for its continuous newspaper publish-
ing record, but he is insistent that his Gazette began a printing business in
1727 in Annapolis, making it the oldest publisher.
As for The Courant, its web page (<www.courant.com/about/
history.stm>) details the newspaper's history and some of the qualifiers
used to establish it as the nation's oldest continuously published newspa-
per. For instance, the web page article says The Courant has always been
located in Hartford, has an unbroken publishing history from 1764 and
was never absorbed by another newspaper.
Having made this statement, the article goes on to say the name has
varied some over the years, from The Connecticut Courant, when it was
originally a weekly, to The Daily Courant when it went daily in 1837.
Furthermore, the newspaper suspended publication for two issues during
the Revolutionary War when it ran out of paper. And although it has been
owned by Times Mirror Company since 1979, the newspaper considers
itself to still be the same publication.
Both the Maryland Gazette and The Hartford Courant have exhibits
at the Newseum in Arlington, Virginia, which reinforce their claims to
distinction. On display is the Maryland Gazettes edition that features a
copy of the US Constitution and the May 8, 1775 issue of The Connecti-
cut Courant with a report on the battles of Lexington and Concord. The
report is said to have been penned by Isaiah Thomas, known today as a
journalism historian, for his own newspaper, The Massachusetts Spy. The
Courant from April 9, 1865, announcing Lee's surrender at Appomattox,
also is on display.
Jeff Schlosberg of the Newseum said the displays make no mention
of either newspaper as being the oldest. "We steer clear of these sorts of
claims, since there is always an element of uncertainty," he says.
Newseum's Griffin Kane said the Newseum avoids generalizations
about the nation's oldest continuously published newspaper because the
issue is so controversial. However, the Newseum highlights the New York
Evening Post for its longevity in publishing circles.
In the Newseum is an illustration of Alexander Hamilton (1755-
1804), among the 400 journalists selected to represent leading figures in
journalism history. Beneath the illustration of Hamilton is this note: "In
1801, Hamilton helps found the New York Evening Post, the country's
oldest continuously published daily."
If ownership and names aren't too much of an issue, a New Hamp-
shire newspaper may have some distinction. Venerable journalism histo-
rian Frank Luther Mott cited the New-Hampshire Gazette of Portsmouth
as the oldest surviving newspaper in his seminal history, American Journal-
ism, A History of Newspapers in the United States Through 250 Years, 1690
1 00 Great Ideas • Spring 1 999
to 1940 . The descendant of The New-Hampshire Gazette is The Ports-
mouth Herald, says Derek Wood, former manager and now special
projects director at The Herald.
Hanging on the wall of a conference room at The Herald is a repro-
duction of the first copy of its ancestor, dated October 7, 1756. However,
not much is made of the history, says Wood. "We refer to it in a casual
sort of way, but it's not part of our marketing strategy. The phrase we
sometimes use is 'the Sea Coast's first newspaper.'"
Nevertheless, The Couranis Kenneth J. DeLisa says, "In a very real
sense, The Courant is older than the nation," adding that it reported on
the adoption of the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitu-
tion and was the newspaper George Washington used to advertise land for
lease at his Mount Vernon estate.
The idea of a suspension makes dating tricky.
For instance, in Sidney Kobre's thick Development of American
Journalism published in 1969, Parks is said to have founded The Virginia
Gazette in Williamsburg on August 6, 1736 and operated it "until the
middle of the century, when he died almost penniless." In the 1930s The
Virginia Gazette was revived in Williamsburg, but publisher and editor W
C. O'Donovan doesn't see the lapse in printing as a suspension.
"We were America's oldest weekly, at least until 1984 when we
started publishing twice a week," O'Donovan says, adding that his
newspaper comes out Wednesday and Saturday. He noted that the
newspapers of the time moved when the capital became Richmond in
1 780 and all of them wanted to be known as The Virginia Gazette to
qualify for the government printing contracts. Only The Virginia Gazette
was qualified, hence the competition for the name. While several itera-
tions of the Gazette existed over the years, the name remains the same.
Merrill, publisher of the Maryland Gazette, says when his corporate
attorney read that The Virginia Gazette ranked itself as serving readers
since 1736, Merrill mailed a protest. In reply, Merrill was told, "I read
about the suspensions of the Maryland Gazette. If you can have a suspen-
sion for a few days and still claim to be the oldest, we can have a suspen-
sion for 230 years and say we're the oldest."
For Merrill, that kind of thinking makes for great newspapers that
deserve to boast, and he has no trouble with it at all.
Resources Cited
Sidney Kobre, Development of American Journalism. (Dubuque, Iowa: William C. Brown Co.,
1969).
Frank Luther Mott, American Journalism, A History of Newspapers in the United Sates Through 250
Years, 1690 to 1940 (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1947).
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 0 1
102 Summer 1999
Book Reviews
I am beginning to realize that the material a book revieiver chooses to send
for comment is only partially under his/her control. It would be ideal if the only
volumes an editor received were strictly committed to the discipline of history With
32 reviews per year, this is not always possible. As a result, many of the collections
which appear in American Journalism are relatively eclectic and this issues
reviews reflect just such an approach. I must mention that these books ivere chosen
for review because in many ways, they reflect on the kind of lives we now lead.
David Abrahamson's look at on-line reporting is most appropriate because,
if for nothing else, this collection will be part of a history that is yet to come.
Craig Aliens review of Cold War broadcasting serves to remind us that the past is
some cases is just the present with a bit of a lag. This is one of the few books that
has been published on media and the Cold War, ivhich is why I chose to include
it in this volume. Since we are on the subject of war, and having just gone
through the nights over Yugoslavia, I chose to include a story of bravery and
horror by a journalist in Sarajevo. It is amazing how soon current events lead us
to forget those of the past and, in this case, the recent past.
Of course we pay homage to the past with David Davies insigh fid look at
Edward Caudill's study of Charles Darwin and how a theory promoted myths
and misuse. Ronald Ostman gives us his views on some recent works on photo-
journalism, something quite of en missing in publications dedicated to journal-
ism history. Kathy English comments on a collection of what the editors refer to
as some of the best examples of reporting, and Mary Vipond looks at the latest
collection of contemporary cartoons on Canadian political subjects, in particular
French -English relationships. This months feature ivork also deals with car-
toons. Ian Gordons study of the commercial impact of cartoons and comic strips
argues with effectiveness that both modes of communication were critical in the
emergence of a consumer cidture in America, if not in the Western World.
> David R. Spencer, Book Review Editor
y Editor s Choice
Comic Strips and the Consumer Culture: 1890-1945
Ian Gordon, Washington and London: Smithsonian Institute Press,
1998. 233 pp.
Let the newspaper editor who dares cancel someone's favorite comic
strip. Columns come and go, missed by some but seldom by all. Yet
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 103
comics, as they have done since 1895, inspire not only a significant draw
for a journal, but fierce loyalty as well. For those of us interested in the
various forms of cartoon art, we are struck on one occasion by the
simplicity of many of the drawings and the complexity of the messages
they deliver. It is the messages they deliver that struck the curiosity of Ian
Gordon. Gordon, now the head of the faculty of visual communication at
the KvB College of Visual Communication in Australia, spent some of his
time as a pre-doctoral fellow with the Smithsonian's National Museum of
American History. His book Comic Strips and the Consumer Culture:
1890-1945 would appear to be the consequence of that relationship.
In contemporary times, anyone who watches television, reads a
magazine, turns on the radio, picks up a telephone, goes to the live theater
or attends a sporting event cannot be ambivalent to the invasion of our
senses that the advertising industry provides. Messages are everywhere, on
the boards surrounding the arenas in which hockey teams play, on
scoreboards for baseball and football games, on Girl Guide cookie boxes,
on the Internet, beside streets and highways. There appears to be no
escape from the constant barrage of "invitations" to buy this or try that. I
still find it truly amazing that consumers will pay significant sums of
money to wear clothing that is in effect a mobile advertising vehicle for
clever designers.
The strength of Gordon's work is that it provides answers as to how
this form of consumer inundation began. He blames the commercializa-
tion of the comic strip, beginning humbly with Richard F. Outcault's now
famous Yellow Kid. In Gordon's analysis, the comic strip was the single
instrument which switched advertising policy from the written and
pseudo-oral to the visual. More importantly, it performed the feat rela-
tively quickly. Just eight short years after Outcault drew his first single
cartoon and then strip for two New York newspapers, comic strips began
to appear in newspapers across the United States and Canada.
More subtle was the shift from making the characters in the strips
entertainers to marketers of products and services. It was this transition
which began with the introduction of Buster Brown strips in 1902 to an
overall merchandising strategy which is still in vogue today, that is the
after-market of toys, music, computer software, clothing, films and any
one of a dozen creations designed to sell products and services. Any parent
today can relate to the intense pressure this places on the family when
Jason next door has a complete set of Ninja Turtle toys and Jonathan
living at your home does not. Buster Brown made advertising a visual
notoral, or written form of communication. In a word, it was iconology.
Gordon specifically points to the move to the syndication of comics
which began in 1903 in his attempt to explain their success as a market-
ing tool. This is beyond a doubt the strongest part of the book. He
1 04 Book Reviews • Summer 1 999
painstakingly traces the growth of comics from central sources, in particu-
lar the Hearst chain in New York, and measures the impact of economies
of scale on the publication industry. It is here that his argument has
considerable force. Instead of being trapped in local markets across the
country, products became national in scope with seemingly endless
choices for expansion. The classic example he uses is that of Outcault's
Buster Brown, which not only became a long running and successful
strip, but the brand name of a shoe company which continues to exist. It
is fitting that the face of the nerdy, innocent looking kid adorns the dust
jacket of the book.
Gordon is particularly effective in his portrayal of how consumer
culture values leaked into the strips, intentionally or otherwise. In the
strip Gasoline Alley, which was launched on the eve of the automobile
age, Gordon argues that the strip had as much to do with the "car-ing" of
America as any well-designed advertising plan by advertising firms
representing the major auto manufacturers. Week after week, the central
character Walt Wallet, as well as his hangers-on, demonstrate their
devotion and love for the piece of metal that gets them around the town.
But, as Gordon clearly points out, the car is not merely a means to go
from A to B. In Walt's mind it is, in a McLuhanesque sense, an extension
of the man himself.
The integration of social values and marketing ploys in mass enter-
tainment is no surprise to movie and music consumers today. In a scene
in the Frank Sinatra - Gene Kelly film "Anchors Aweigh" the female lead
Kathryn Grayson invites Kelly to join her in a Coke, but not a soda or
cola. Manufacturers have been known to pay millions of dollars to ensure
that their products receive some prominent platform in today's mass
marketed films. Some things never change.
The Gordon book is a must read for any scholar interested in the
question of popular culture. If one accepts Gordon's basic thesis that this
form of marketing is not new, but just recycled in different and more
prevalent forms, his thesis should come as no surprise to anyone. How-
ever, the strength of the work is clearly lodged in his analysis of comics. It
remains for other scholars to examine the movies, popular literature and
popular music, to name just three.
The major problem with this book is that it is just too short.
Although he discusses a number of prominent cartoons, such as Gasoline
Alley and Winnie Winkle, it is hard to contend that the process which he
describes is somehow universal and all -penetrating. But, let us not detract
from a good and readable work. As someone who dabbles in comic art
myself, I can appreciate the immensity of the task that Ian Gordon faced.
It is not that easy when one considers how limited the indices to these
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 105
kinds of work are. Let us hope that Gordon does not lose interest in the
subject. It would be nice to anticipate a sequel, perhaps two.
> David R. Spencer, University of Western Ontario
American Photojournalism Comes of Age
Michael L. Carlebach, Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Press,
1997. 222 pp.
American Photo magazine, in its September/October, 1996 issue, ran
an extensive cover story asking, "Is photo-journalism dead?" In its lengthy
subsequent spread, American Photo puzzled about such issues as the
decline in magazine publication of serious photojournalism (and the
resulting meager earnings made by many photojournalists), the exciting
new possibilities opened by Internet home pages and art gallery walls, the
reluctance of staid publishers to print graphic, hard-hitting photos, the
crisis in management and mission being experienced by the big photo
agencies, the competition posed by cable and digital TV, the growth of
celebrity journalism at the expense of news photography, the growing
expense of publishing books with large groups of images, the blurring of
boundaries between news, documentary, and fine art photographs . . . the
list is lengthy. Clearly, contemporary photojournalism is searching and
redefining itself.
But not to worry. Michael Carlebach's book on the origins and
development of photojournalism gives plenty of assurance that change in
photojournalism is inevitable and that it usually is fueled by new technol-
ogy and new ideas. Seen in the context of 1880 to 1936, Carlebach
demonstrates that much of what is happening today is being recycled after
a fashion. Lawrence Peter("Yogi") Berras famous dictum, "It was deja vu
all over again" comes to mind.
So, when contemporary photojournalists worry about the impact of
digital retouching of photos, Carlebach shows us that fakes, retouching
and "composographs" have been on the scene for decades. When a hue-
and-cry is raised about paparazzi, Carlebach reminds us that concern for
"in your face" photographers, telephoto lenses, and invasion of privacy is
an old, old story (e.g, Harry Coleman's relentless 1920s stalking of
industrialist and financier J. Pierpont Morgan in order to click New York
Journal photos of J.P.'s "grossly inflamed and swollen" nose). When critics
worry that increasing dependence upon visual communication will result
in further deterioration of print literacy and an inevitable descent into the
106 Book Reviews • Summer 1999
bottomless pits of tastelessness, Carlebach's book shows them that elite,
text-oriented intelligentsia opposition to visual communication is more
than 100 years old and that current themes of opposition travel rather
well-trod trails. (However, Carlebach emphasizes that photos necessarily
depend upon text for meaningful interpretation.) When critics complain
of politicians and staged pseudo-events as if this were a relatively recent
phenomenon, the book points out that the canned photo-op was old
when Theodore Roosevelt groomed and managed his "roughrider" image
in 1898.
Further, recent charges that photos often emphasize the sordid, the
sleazy, and the sanguinary side of human existence have an historic
forerunner in photojournalists like New York City's Arthur Fellig
("Weegee"), who reveled in the seamy side of the naked city's underworld
during the 1920s through the 1950s. The claim that contemporary
photographs do not represent all segments of the population, but rather
tend to focus on fresh-cheeked, supple-figured young people is shown to
have been a common approach during yellow journalism days at the turn
of the century. Similar complaints that today's press minimizes photo-
graphs of racial minorities doing well, but highlights wrongdoing by
minorities also are shown to have precedents. The charge that recent
photography is too much controlled by the press associations, syndicates,
and chains is not new, either. Functionally equivalent collection and
distribution agencies have been around since the late 1880s.
American Photojournalism Comes of Age is well-researched and well-
written. Its four chronologically arranged chapters review familiar biogra-
phies and photo feats. For example, Chapter 3, "Photojournalism,
Documentary and Reform" discusses the ideas and works of Jacob Riis,
Edward S. Curtis, Lewis Wickes Hine, Roy Stryker and the Farm Security
Administration photographers, and the Photo League. However, space
also is given to the less well-known persons and events which deserve
notice within the broad sweep of photojournalism history.
To illustrate, Chapter 1, "Photojournalism at the Turn of the
Century," gives attention to Walter H. Home, documenter of the Mexi-
can Revolution and postcard entrepreneur, as well as to B. Lloyd Singley,
founder of the Keystone View Company, which specialized in the stereo-
graphs which were so popular in late 19th and early 20th centuries.
American Photojournalism Comes of Age alternates between sketching the
broad sweep of historical epoch and relating of illustrative anecdotes, such
as that of the ghoulish Hearst photographer who specialized in post
mortem photography, originally related by Harry J. Coleman in his 1943
Give Us A Little Smile, Baby (New York: E. P. Dutton). Visually, 146
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 107
black-and-white reproductions accompany the text. Carlebach's careful
search of the country's archives has given us fresh images from the past,
such as the light-hearted scene of a passel of press photojournalists
snapping a famous baby in a carriage on a sidewalk, contrasted with a
single, studio-bound photographer laboriously making a camera-domi-
nant portrait of a Washington Star editorial cartoonist. In another ex-
ample, on a more somber note, we see a photographer working amid the
ruins of a tornado which slammed into Kirksville, Missouri, in 1899.
This book also reproduces a handful of photos which have stopping
power equivalent to any in today's cavalcade of images. For example, there
is a grisly Boxer Rebellion-era stereograph image of a bound and bloody
headless torso in the background while the Chinese executioner holds the
severed head by the hair in the foreground (Chapter 2, Covering War).
Another photo chronicles a dazed rescuer holding a limp, drowned baby
from the Eastland steamer disaster in the Chicago River, 1915. These
powerful images are precursors of recent images, such as those showing
Somalians dragging an American soldier's body through the streets of
Mogadiscio and the fireman's retrieval of a bloodied child's corpse from
the Oklahoma City federal building bombing debris.
Chapter 4 (Tabloids, Magazines, and the Art of Photojournalism),
being of a more recent era, contains visual icons familiar to almost every
American: Charles Lindbergh posing in front of The Spirit of St. Louis
before his May 20, 1927 Atlantic flight from New York to Paris and the
Hindenburg zeppelin disaster at Lakehurst, New Jersey, on May 6, 1937,
for example. Of equal historic interest will be the early attempts at photo
essays, such as the National Geographies feature coverage of Alexander
Graham Bell's experiments with kites and aviation early in the 20th
century, the Harpers Weekly spread on Woodrow Wilson campaigning
during the 1912 election, and Time's informal glimpse of Franklin D.
Roosevelt's activities in the 1935 Oval Office.
Carlebach's book points out that many photojournalists lose their
personal identities amid historical effusion, but they live on, vicariously,
through an image made during a single Carder- Bresson decisive moment
in their lives, as if that one picture was justification for their being. A
healthy theme of Carlebach's book is the tension between photography as
a utilitarian workhorse, serving up sturdy, routine, practical images of
family members at their picnics, identification mugshots, newspaper
handshakes, and pass-the-check publicity as contrasted with the cultured
"do not touch" art gallery and museum thoroughbred of the species, the
pictorial, artsy, soft-focused romantic fluff of visual dreams. Somewhere
between these extremes are the truly wonderful photojournalistic images
which live on and on because they have captured something of historical
and human importance in a way that television, film, the graphic arts
1 08 Book Reviews • Summer 1 999
poster, and other visual arts cannot: a compelling, and unforgettable still
image which epitomizes its subject in a memorable and truthful way. That
image which the viewer cannot forget is perhaps the lifelong quest of most
photojournalists, past and present. And even when they fail, their results
are usually something worth seeing.
Thus, Carlebach provides a viable answer to the American Photo
question asked not long ago. "Is photojournalism dead?" Judging by its
fascinating, vital, and lively past, the answer is "Hardly!" Carlebach did
not address the following words specifically to the American Photo ques-
tion, but his words are very relevant: "Today, in the new age of the
illimitable information highway, the news photograph still has the power
to mesmerize."
> Ronald E. Ostman, Cornell University
As Long As Sarajevo Exists
Kemal Kurspahic, Colleen London (trans.), Stony Creek, Connecticut:
The Pamphleteer's Press, 1997. 248 pp.
This is the story of Oslobodjenje (Liberation), a Bosnian newspaper
that received international fame and support for continuing to publish
daily during the siege of Sarajevo from 1992-95, as told through the
recollections of the paper's editor. The author, who spent the mid-1980s
as the paper's New York correspondent, served as editor from 1988 until
late February 1994, when he was sent to the United States as the
newspaper's editor-correspondent, funded for a year as a Nieman Fellow
at Harvard and then by a grant from the Tribune McCormick Foundation
in Chicago. The book reflects Kemal Kurspahic's strong commitment to a
free and independent press that must not be afraid to take a moral stand.
Kurspahic had the misfortune of writing his book at nearly the same
time as National Public Radio correspondent Tom Gjelten was writing
Sarajevo Daily: A City & Its Newspaper Under Siege (1995), a gripping
narrative that interweaves the stories of Oslobodjenje and Sarajevo.
Kurspahic's book, in contrast, is a memoir with a mission, describing the
paper's commitment to truth and a multi-ethnic Bosnia. In a somewhat
wooden translation, it tells not only the story of the paper, but the
individual stories of heroism and tragedy of its Serb, Croatian and
Bosnian Muslim staffers. Readers unfamiliar with South Slav names may
find such parts inspiring, but unable to remember who's who. Kurspahic
would certainly say that their witness must be recorded. (There is no
index so that readers looking for information about specific individuals
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 109
will need to go through the book page by page. There is no bibliography
either.)
His journalistic world is largely one of black and white, where there
is no room for moral equivocation, although he recognizes that family
pressures — including a staffer's love for family — can intrude on this
world. It is difficult for any outsider to second-guess the decisions made
by any of the Bosnian journalists under the stress of shelling, food
shortages, the black market and often unheated living conditions.
Kurspahic himself suffered a badly broken leg when the car in which he
was riding crashed into a police car during a high-speed trip through
Sniper's Alley.
The heart of the book is divided into three chapters. The first tells
briefly the story of the paper from its founding in 1943 to its declaration
of political independence in 1990 and culminating in the first free
elections in November 1990 in which the nationalist parties emerged
triumphant. Kurspahic seems uncomfortable as he refers to the earlier
history of the paper under Communist rule.
Some journalists in Yugoslavia and elsewhere in the Communist-
ruled countries developed identities as professionals even while the system
demanded they serve the party. The police used informers on the newspa-
per staff to pressure the more independent-minded journalists. This was
more than just "mediocre conformism and place-seeking and time-
serving." This tricky subject between the system and the profession still
awaits its historian since it requires understanding the compromises that
almost every journalist had to make. Few of these journalists want to
admit today that they once served the Communist cause in any way since
it could threaten their livelihood, yet people such as Kurspahic were
produced in this system and aspects of the Communist media culture
persisted in the post-Communist period.
The second chapter describes the newspaper's efforts to remain
independent while the society around it mostly divided into nationalist
partisanship and the paper's opponents pointed to the financial subsidy it
continued to receive from the government. Some of the paper's journalists
left the staff, threatening its multi-ethnic diversity. The final chapter,
which constitutes more than half the book, details the paper's heroic life
under the siege, 1992-94, when the paper's circulation area shrank to the
area of Sarajevo, when supplies of vital materials were limited and some
staffers were killed.
This volume will be of greatest interest to free press apostles. It will
also be of value to historians who study Yugoslavia, including historians of
the media, who will find here factual details unavailable elsewhere. For
1 1 0 Book Reviews • Summer 1 999
journalism historians generally, especially those interested in the interna-
tional sphere, the book raises questions about the varying roles of the
media under different social and political conditions. After all, newspapers
historically have reflected their societies. They have been successful only
to a limited degree in fomenting national or political hatred. Rather they
have usually mirrored the divisions. In the case of Bosnia, these were not
ancient hatreds, but 20th century ideas that were fomented by unscrupu-
lous leaders and only weakly contested by opponents.
Just as 19th century newspaper readers in the United States did not
know how to react at first to newspapers that sought to move away from a
political mold, many Sarajevo readers in the 1990s must have responded
in similar fashion to the 1 990s Oslobodjenje. Kurspahic himself remarks
that the elite who shared his views were much more receptive to the
analysis and discussion in his paper than were the mass of the populace or
the nationalist leaders. The goal of Kurspahic and most of his staff
throughout the siege was to keep publishing to show their commitment
to the journalistic profession and to a pluralist, multi-ethnic Bosnia
Hercegovina. According to the 1995 Dayton accords, however, an
integrated, diverse population has virtually disappeared. Much of the
public continues to find an independent press difficult to understand in a
highly politicized society. That might suggest that the paper failed in its
mission, that under pressure of war, the multi-ethnic society receded, even
while the journalists of Oslobodjenje fought for its existence.
The paper succeeded in two important ways, however. First, it
remained virtually the sole form of public communication during much
of the siege of Sarajevo. Even when a shortage of newsprint reduced the
print run, the limited number of copies was shared around so that readers
could ascertain what rumors were true and who had died. Cannons and
tanks could not silence this freedom of expression. Second, the paper
became a symbol to the international media community, and to the world
at large, of the Bosnians' will to survive. Numerous international corre-
spondents wrote about the paper, though few recognized that the society
the paper wanted to promote was ceasing to exist. These articles helped
generate numerous international media awards for the paper and its staff,
which gave the English-speaking Kurspahic platforms abroad for promot-
ing his country's cause and income and supplies to keep the paper alive.
Kurspahic and his paper were heroes in their time. Even if this book
does not do justice to the complexity of the situation, it provides
Kurspahic's valuable witness to his paper's efforts.
>Owen V. Johnson, Indiana University
Summer 1999 • American Journalism 1 1 1
The Carnivalization of Politics: Quebec Cartoons on
Relations with Canada, England, and France, 1960-1979.
Raymond N. Morris, Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen's
University Press, 1995. 148 pp.
Rather unexpectedly, reviewing this book doubled my fun. As is my
custom, when I received the package in the mail from the book review
editor, I quickly scanned the introduction. There I discovered that The
Carnivalization of Politics is a sequel to an earlier work by the same author,
Behind the Jester 's Mask: Canadian Editorial Cartoons About Dominant and
Minority Groups. So before beginning the new book, I checked the older
one out of the library (It was published by the University of Toronto Press
in 1989).
In Behind the Jesters Mask, Morris argues that political cartoonists
play the role of the jesters of the modern bourgeoisie. Using editorial
cartoons selected from a large collection representing newspapers from
across Canada covering the years I960 to 1979, he shows that the car-
toonists consistently poked fun at the incompetence of the political
system and politicians by portraying them as ineffective and foolish and
by emphasizing the gaps between promise and performance. Modern
cartoonists, unlike those who drew for newspapers in the 19th century,
present themselves as non-partisan; they are equal-opportunity balloon-
poppers, ridiculing all politicians equally. On the other hand, Morris
argues, they never target businessmen or capitalism, and they falsely
position politics and business as oppositional. Just as the court jester was
the servant of the king, he suggests, these cartoonists are the agents of the
bourgeoisie and the bourgeois state, as of course are the newspapers in
which they publish.
Morris moves beyond this argument in The Carnivalization of
Politics by selecting and analyzing more closely the work of four Quebec
cartoonists (three French and one English) on the subject of French-
English relations, as well as on the relations of Quebec and Canada with
England and France. As the title indicates, Morris conceptualizes these
cartoons somewhat differently, by using the idea of carnivalization as
developed by Mikhail Bakhtin. As in pure carnival, he argues, the car-
toonists examined use such devices as inverting the social structure and
comically exaggerating political rituals in order to suggest that all politi-
cians are naive and impractical. Morris demonstrates, however, that
probably the more appropriate term to describe these works is hyper-
carnival, a reified, commercialized, more cynical form of carnival where
the participants are professionals and the public only spectators.
Morris proceeds at several levels simultaneously. He works with
groups of cartoons on a single subject (for example, the Queen's visit to
112 Book Reviews • Summer 1999
Quebec in 1964 or the referendum campaign of 1980) to decipher the
metaphors that underlie the frame, message, content and form of the
cartoons. Occasionally, this results in a "one drawing after another"
tedium, but the summary arguments are conceptually rich and complex.
One continuing metaphor is that of the unhappy but still married couple,
English Canada the husband and Quebec the wife. England and France
are the in-laws, and the language minorities (French in Canada and
English in Quebec) the children. But other metaphors combine with and
sometimes contradict this family one.
At one time or another the cartoonists portray all politicians as
childish, associated with irresponsibility, incongruity, impulsiveness, and
symbolic play. But childishness is also associated with nature, spontaneity,
openness, and intuition. Most frequently these traits are ascribed to
Quebec nationalist politicians, in contrast to the more reasoned, control-
ling, dominant, "cultured" adults — that is the federalists, specially the
English. But the challenge of separatism also has the power to shake up
the federalists, reducing them to a state of disorderliness, as shown in the
Girerd cartoon depicted on the dust jacket, which portrays a very shaggy
and disreputable English part-bulldog mongrel challenging its sophisti-
cated and sleek French counterpart with the punning "Wolfe, Wolfe" and
reacting with confusion and dismay at the French dog's witty riposte,
"Montcalm." Moreover, the acquisition of power can turn a cartoonist's
heroic Quebec politician into a devious fool very quickly. Thus, Morris'
approach highlights nuances and subtleties, by drawing attention to the
multiple metaphoric interactions occurring within each cartoon series.
The book has two weaknesses, in my view. The first is that the
subtleties sometimes over take the message. Too often myriad contradic-
tory readings are stated, but not resolved. Unfortunately as well, the
reader's ability to sort out the confusion is limited because the vast
majority of the cartoons are described rather than reproduced, presumably
for financial reasons.
The editorial cartoons on which Morris bases his analysis concern
Canadian political events during the 1960s and 1970s. Those without a
good knowledge of Canadian politics may occasionally find themselves
puzzled. Although the author makes a valiant attempt to place the
cartoons within historical context, this is necessarily so briefly sketched
that it may be insufficient for non-Canadian readers. Nevertheless,
Morris' general analytical approach is interesting and rich enough that not
only can it be widely applied but it will inspire readers to attempt to do
so. Anyone seriously interested in editorial cartoon analysis should read
this book.
>Mary Vipond, Concordia University
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 3
Darwinian Myths: The Legends and Misuses of a Theory
Edward Caudill, Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1997. 208 pp.
Charles Darwin's theory of evolution not only revolutionized the
world of science but was put to myriad uses as well. Stretched to apply to
social relations, it served as the underpinning of the eugenics movement,
which sought to improve humanity by encouraging selective breeding.
Shortly thereafter Nazi Germany perverted the theory by using it to help
justify state-enforced natural selection. Edward Caudill's book describes
these and other uses and misuses of Darwin's theory — and particularly the
social Darwinism espoused by philosopher Herbert Spencer — since the
publication of On the Origin of Species in 1859. In the process, Caudill,
Professor of Journalism at the University of Tennessee, debunks many of
these Darwinian myths while explaining their importance in American
culture.
The book is of particular importance to media historians because
press accounts played such a large role in shaping the myths that grew out
of Darwinism. Caudill begins by explaining how Thomas Huxley and
Joseph Hooker, two of Darwin's closest allies in science, engaged in a
concerted effort to further the acceptance of the theory of evolution in the
popular and scientific press. Huxley, nicknamed "Darwin's bulldog," used
this campaign to advance his own reputation in the world of science.
Darwin himself stayed in the background for these media battles but
offered encouragement and advice to his allies. Huxley and Hooker not
only wrote articles but spoke frequently about Darwin's work, and
consequently evolution was widely accepted by scientific elites a few years
after Darwin first wrote about natural selection.
Huxley's "debate" with an Anglican clergyman at an 1860 meeting of
the British Association for the Advancement of Science spawned a
Darwinian myth. In scientific circles, the exchange between Huxley and
Bishop Samuel Wilberforce was mythologized as a turning point in the
evolution-creation debate. In a long speech, Wilberforce attacked evolu-
tion and closed by ridiculing Huxley with a pointed question: On which
side of his family, his grandmother's or his grandfather's, was he descended
from an ape? "If I had to choose," Huxley replied, according to one
account, "between being descended from an ape or a man who would use
his great powers of rhetoric to crush an argument, I should prefer the
former."
Huxley's remark and subsequent defense of Darwinism eventually
became a symbol of the triumph of science over religion. Both Darwin's
and Huxley's sons, in collecting their fathers' papers, helped to mytholo-
gize the encounter. Until recently, historians accepted their accounts. But
1 14 Book Reviews • Summer 1999
Caudill explains, in a chapter that could serve as a text for research
methods students, that the historical record shows a much more inconclu-
sive result. Nonetheless, the myth remains important for the insight it
offers into how myth-making can serve one group's ends.
After exploding this and several other Darwinian myths, Caudill
explains how Darwin's theories were misused in the 20th century, particu-
larly as they were employed to serve as the basis for the social Darwinism
espoused by philosopher Herbert Spencer. Even though Darwin himself
had never applied his theory of natural selection to the social arena, his
theories nonetheless lent scientific credence to movements based on social
Darwinism. Caudill devotes one chapter to the growth of the eugenics
movement in the early 20th century, showing how Darwinism was
twisted and misapplied to justify xenophobic and racist goals. Eugenicists,
like Darwin's disciples before them, were experts at using the media to
further their ideas. The American Eugenics Society embarked on an
ambitious publicity campaign in the 1920s and 1930s to promote their
movement. By the beginning of World War II, their campaign was
declining in America, but in Nazi Germany, another mutated version of
social Darwinism was thriving to serve as the intellectual underpinning of
Aryan supremacy and the extermination of the Jews.
Caudill, who has written a previous book about Darwinism and the
press, convincingly explains the power of Darwinian myths in American
culture. The book would be valuable for teachers of both media history
and historical research. Both will appreciate Caudill's meticulous use of
historical sources to demonstrate the building of myths, as well as the
author's use of evidence to debunk them.
>David R. Davies, University of Southern Mississippi
The Electronic Grapevine: Rumor, Reputation and
Reporting in the New On-line Environment
Diane L. Borden and Kerric Harvey (eds.), Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence
Erlbaum Associates, 1998. 200 pp.
Of all the "revolutions" — technological, sociological, economic and
otherwise — that have swept through the nation's newsrooms in the last
decade or so, it now appears that few will have as long-lasting an impact
on both the production and consumption of journalism as the Internet.
While the exact long-term effects of this ongoing transformation are still
anyone's guess, this anthology of essays, edited by George Mason
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 5
University's Diane L. Borden and Kerric Harvey of George Washington
University, is an excellent starting point for any discursive engagement
with many of the important questions.
Like many solid anthologies, the 12 essays included in The Electronic
Grapevine are a self- reinforcing blend of analysis and anecdote, theory and
practice. By deliberately employing a structure which intertwines theoreti-
cal overviews with cogent case studies, the resulting combination is a
thoughtful explication of likely causes and possible effects. And in doing
so, it invites the reader to embark on an exploration of a number of
fundamental journalistic issues — many of which, though arguably decades
in gestation, are clearly writ large by the recent advent of the Internet.
Perhaps the most essential questions speak to the very heart of
journalism's intrinsic professional claim to credibility and credulity.
Within the established customs and practices of the reportorial craft, how
do we know what we know? More problematic, how do we know what we
know is true? And now, how is the Internet changing what we know, how
we know it and even, perhaps, what we mean by true? "It's hard enough
to do journalism," the book's editors write, "when you can actually get
your hands on what it takes to do so, when you can reread that press
release or sense that your interview subject is lying to you by the way he
keeps twisting paper clips into little gnarled metal pretzels as you talk.
Imagine the quantum leap in the challenges presented by traditional
journalism when, suddenly, everything physical goes out of it."
As the work's subtitle suggests, matters related to rumor and reputa-
tion take on a heightened significance in the world of on-line journalism.
Two essays in particular cast the issues into sharp relief. "Cyberspace: A
Consensual Hallucination" by Jason Primuth, executive producer oversee-
ing content on a local CBS affiliate's website, explores some of the not-so-
obvious implications of the essential anonymity of the virtual world. And
as an elegantly analytical complement to the ground truths presented in
Primuth's work, "Cyber Libel: Time to Flame the Times Standard" by
Diane Borden presents the legal and sociocultural constructs required to
frame a much-needed discussion of what may or may not constitute
defamation in the on-line environment.
A strong candidate for the most useful essay in the collection,
however, might be "Journalists' Use of On-Line Technology and Sources"
by Columbia University's Steven S. Ross. Since the early 1990s, Ross has
not only tracked the influence of information technology on journalism
but is also widely credited with a defining role in the origination, practice
and pedagogy of computer-assisted reporting. In his contribution to this
anthology, he reports the results of a survey of almost 4,000 newspapers
and magazines, inquiring into their growing comfort with (reliance
1 16 Book Reviews • Summer 1999
upon?) the Internet as an information source. As both a rigorously
quantitative benchmark and revealing snapshot of prevailing practices, the
study is must-reading for anyone, scholar or practitioner, who wants to
understand what is actually happening in the nation's newsrooms — in
effect, the "real" reality of journalism's struggle with the virtual kind.
>David Abrahamson, Northwestern University
Masterpieces of Reporting: Volume 1
Wm. David Sloan and Cheryl S. Wray (eds.), Northport, Alabama:
Vision Press 1997. 473 pp.
Masterpieces of Reporting, Volume 1, carries the promise that further
volumes of anthologies of great American reporting will follow in future
years. One hopes these editors remain true to that intention, for this is
indeed a collection that comes close to fulfilling its hyperbolic back cover
lines that the book contains "The Greatest Stories American Newspapers
Have Ever Produced."
Editors Wm. David Sloan and Cheryl S. Wray have done a superb
job of selecting their 70 "masterpieces" of American newspaper journalism
from among thousands of possibilities. Their choices span a range of
American history from the pre-Civil War years to the 1 990s and cover
spot news, narrative and descriptive writing, profiles, investigative and
analytical writing. Some of the pieces, such as Henry Morton Stanley's
1872 Neiv York Herald Tribune story about the search for David
Livingstone, and sports writer Grantland Rice's 1924 immortalization of
Notre Dames "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" are well-known classics
that most certainly belong in an anthology that bills itself as a collection
of masterpieces. Other stories, such as the 1994 Pulitzer prize account of
Rwanda's ghastly "village of death" written by the Associated Press' Mark
Fritz, and The New York Times 1994 coverage of the funeral of Jacqueline
Bouvier Kennedy are new classics that well deserve the honor of a place in
this anthology.
The selections in this anthology have one unifying theme — excellent
writing that produces compelling, resonant stories that stand the test of
time. The editor's introductory chapter on what makes good newspaper
writing is worth as much as the newspaper stories that follow and will
serve as excellent reading for senior feature writing classes. Good writing,
say Sloan and Wray, is writing that achieves its purpose of informing and
interesting the reader. They proclaim that journalistic writing can be
'wonderful! . . . engrossing, poignant, dramatic and moving."
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 7
In producing Masterpieces of Reporting, Sloan and Wray have indeed
achieved their purpose of both informing and interesting this reader. The
question that remains for the future is whether they can sustain the level
of this work in future volumes. One can only hope.
>Kathy English, Ryerson Polytechnical University
War of the Black Heavens: The Battles of Western
Broadcasting ln the Cold War
Michael Nelson, Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1997. 300 pp.
The collapse of the Soviet Union and the demise of Communism
have rightfully led to an explosion of literature explaining these once
inexplicable events. Yet not until War of the Black Heavens has there been
a sustained attempt to end the Cold War on a mass media note. Energeti-
cally written and prodigiously researched, Nelson's account goes a long
way — but not the full distance — toward persuading readers that Western
radio transmissions were what finally brought Communism to its knees.
It is a stunning exploration of Radio Free Europe (RFE), the Voice of
America, Radio Liberty, and the BBC, and a certain jumping-off point for
more media-related studies of this defining moment in 20th century
affairs.
Nelson, a retired manager and correspondent for Reuters, scores a
10-strike with his extensive documentation. A principal feature is the
book's application of records and materials from the files of the Soviet
Communist Party. Drawing from these sources and nearly 50 interviews,
Nelson brings to light the Soviets' intense fears about RFE and the other
services. And he adds to the intrigue with new evidence the Soviets shot
themselves in the foot. This was because the Soviet factions most con-
cerned about Western radio broadcasts were the same ones who urged the
continued manufacture of short-wave radios.
The book is most penetrating in its examination of Soviet jamming
practices. According to Nelson's figures, not millions but billions were
spent by Communist leaders to shield citizens from Western radio. At
issue are not just news and information but the "forbidden" fruits of
Western popular culture. In retrospect the image of the "iron curtain"
seems more formidable than ever. Yet the book has two shortcomings.
First, as unlikely as such an observation may seem, it is too histori-
cal. Most of the content reaches back to the opening phases of the Cold
War, with relatively little discussion pegged to the climatic events between
1 1 8 Book Reviews • Summer 1 999
1989 and 1991. Second, largely because of its distant perspective, the
book's central argument — that Western radio superseded all other factors
including the economy in driving the masses into the streets — is hard to
accept. Here Nelson falls into a familiar media history trap, that media
institutions and media delivery are not the same as media effects. This is
one of those books that raises the question of effects, and then answers it
with exquisite accounts of happenings behind the scenes.
By no means, though, should the book be discounted. The new
source work alone is worth the reader's attention. Perhaps above all is
Nelson's fortitude in waging his collapse-of-Communism thesis. Even if
his radio-did-it-all explanation is tempered down the road, he will have
made a contribution by stating the essential case.
>Craig Allen, Arizona State University
Summer 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 9
On On
Z
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§
H
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S
A Journal of Media History
Fall 1999
Volume 16, Number 4
J American -j _•
ournalism
Conservative Media: A Different Kind of
Diversity <
Rodger Streitmatter, Guest Editor
The Savannah Morning News As a Penny
Paper: Independent, But Hardly Neutral .<
Ford Risley
"One of the fine figures of American
journalism": A Closer Look at Josephus
Daniels of the Raleigh News and Observer ^7
W. Joseph Campbell
Family Pictures: Constructing the "Typical"
American in 1920s Magazines
Carolyn Kitch
Conserving Racial Segregation in 1954:
Brown v. Board of Education and the
Mississippi Daily Press '.'.
Susan Weill
Book Reviews
American Journalism Index for 1999
A Journal of Media History Fall 1 999
Volume 16, Number 4
yAmerican i^
Journalism
Editor Shirley Biagi
California State
University, Sacramento
Book Review Editor David Spencer
University of
Western Ontario
Assistant Editor Timi Ross Poeppelman
California State
University, Sacramento
Design Gwen Amos
California State
University, Sacramento
Former Editors • • ■ William David Sloan
University of Alabama
Gary WTiitby
East Texas State
John Pauly
Saint Louis University
Wallace B. Eberhard
University of Georgia
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
1999 American Journalism
Historians Association Officers
President
Eugenia Palmeeiano
Saint Peter's College
1st Vice President William David Sloan
University of Alabama
2nd Vice President David Copeland
Emory Henry College
Administrative Secretary Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist
University
Treasurer Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State
University
Historian Alf Pratte
Brigham Young
University
Board of Directors David Abrahamson
ohn Coward
David Davies
Wallace Eberhard
Kathleen Endres
John Ferre
Tracy Gottlieb
Pat Washburn
Julie Williams
Definition of History .
For purposes of written research papers and publications, the term history
shall be seen as a continuous and connected process emphasizing but not
necessarily confined to subjects of American mass communications. History
should be viewed not in the context of perception of the current decade, but as
part of a significant and time-conditioned human past.
Editorial Purpose
American Journalism publishes articles, book reviews and correspondence
dealing with the history of journalism. Contributions may focus on social,
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broadcasting, advertising and public relations; the history of media outside the
United States; theoretical issues in the literature or methods of media history; and
new ideas and methods for the teaching of media history. Papers will be evaluated
in terms of the author's systematic, critical, qualitative and quantitative investiga-
tion of all relevant, available sources with a focus on written, primary documents
but not excluding current literature and interviews.
Copyright
© American Journalism Historians Association 1999. Articles in the journal
may be photocopied for use in teaching, research, criticism and news reporting,
in accordance with Sections 107 and 108 of the U. S. Copyright Law. For all
other purposes, including electronic reproduction and/or distribution, users must
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Submission Guidelines , . , .
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send five manuscript copies (including an abstract with each). Manuscripts
should follow the Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, and should not exceed
the recommended maximum length of 20 pages. Research manuscripts are blind
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Great Ideas is designed to showcase new approaches and information about
the research and teaching of media history. Great Ideas are typically three to six
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Fall 1999 • American Journalism
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A Journal of Media History Fall 1999
Volume 16, Number 4
American
Journalism
-4
Editor's Note: A Special Issue Devoted to Conservative Media
Conservative Media: A Different Kind of Diversity 9
Rodger Streitmatter, Guest Editor
Call for Manuscripts on The Buzz: Technology in Journalism and Mass
Communication History 13
The Savannah Morning News As a Penny Paper: Independent,
But Hardly Neutral 19
Ford Risley
The author examines the neutrality claim the Morning News gave itself.
Many examples are offered in this article demonstrating that, although the
Morning News was financially independent from the political process, it was
unable to stay out of the political arena altogether.
"One of the fine figures of American journalism": A Closer Look at
Josephus Daniels of the Raleigh News and Observer 37
W. Joseph Campbell
This article attempts to fill a critical void among journalism historians — the
uncovering of Josephus Daniels' role and his advocacy of white supremacy.
Family Pictures: Constructing the "Typical" American in
1920s Magazines 57
Carolyn Kitch
This article examines the written and visual "typical family" images that were
created by The Saturday Evening Post ^WGood Housekeeping. The
author attempts to demonstrate how these images constructed "typical family"
values as being patriarchal, child-centered, insulated and exclusive.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
Conserving Racial Segregation in 1954: Brown v. Board of Education and
the Mississippi Daily Press 77
Susan Weill
The author reveals how the white editors and reporters of the Mississippi press
in 1954 endorsed and defended a racially segregated society with African
Americans in subservient roles as second class citizens.
Book Review Editor's Note 101
Book Reviews 101
/ Editor's Choice: The Collected Writings of Walt
Whitman: The Journalism, Volume 1: 1834-1846 101
By Herbert Bergman (Ed.)
Reviewed by David R. Spencer
Live, Direct and Biased? Making Television News in the
Satellite Age 1 04
By Brent MacGregor
Reviewed by Louise Benjamin
Press Freedom and Development, Bibliography 105
By Clement E. Asante
Reviewed by Carolyn Kitch
Public Journalism and Public Life: Why Telling the
News is Not Enough (2nd Ed.) 107
By Davis "Buzz" Merritt
Reviewed by Jon Bekken
SALANT, CBS, AND THE BATTLE FOR THE SOUL OF BROADCAST
Journalism: The Memoirs of Richard S. Salant 109
By Susan and Bill Buzenberg
Reviewed by Steven Phipps
Sartre and the Media 110
By Michael Scriven
Reviewed by Andrew M. Osier
Table of Contents • Fall 1999
The Troubles of Journalism: A Critical Look at What's
Right and Wrong with the Press 113
By William A. Hachten
Reviewed by Douglas Birkhead
US News Coverage of Racial Minorities: A Sourcebook,
1934-1996 115
By Beverly Ann Deepe Keever, Carolyn Martindale, and Mary
Ann Weston
Reviewed by Elizabeth V. Burt
American Journalism Index for 1999 119
Compiled by Timi Ross Poeppelman, Assistant Editor
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
Editor s Note
Less than 24 hours after the AJHA Board approved my appointment
as editor of American Journalism, Rodger Streitmatter and I sat down to
discuss this special issue of the journal. That was more than two years ago,
and I'm delighted to see that Rodger's vision for a special issue is finally in
print.
Rodger has, of course, written widely on topics such as African
American media and gay media and has contributed several excellent
books and articles on these and other related topics. So at our meeting I
asked Rodger to edit a special issue on diversity in media history, but
Rodger had other ideas.
"While I'm certainly interested in the topic of diversity," Rodger said
tactfully, "I'm becoming more and more intrigued by the conservative
media." Dissident media, he said, in many cases was responding to
attacks, yet much less had been written about the attacks that sparked the
rebellions.
And so, the five articles published in this issue grew from Rodger's
valuable insight about new scholarship that could enhance and expand
our understanding of the context in which change happens. My thanks to
the authors who submitted their articles for publication and, of course, to
Rodger for the dedicated, conscientious care he gave the manuscripts and
their authors.
Shirley Biagi
Editor
Editor's Note • Fall 1999
Conservative Media: A Different
Kind of Diversity
By Rodger Streitmatter, Guest Editor
When future historians attempt to identify the major trends that
defined the United States in the final decades of the 20th century, one
word that is sure to be on every scholar's list is diversity.
From the President's Cabinet to my daughter's high school pom-
pom squad, the myriad institutions and organizations that make up this
nation have, in the last few decades, made considerable progress toward
recognizing the value of reflecting the eclectic nature of our population.
American journalism history has been very much in concert with
this trend. In the last few years, an enormous quantity of research has
illuminated the contributions of women and men who previously had
been either ignored or marginalized at least partially because of their
gender, race, ethnicity, class or sexual orientation.
When it comes to another form of diversity, however, the record has
not been so strong. The aspect I have in mind may best be suggested by
the term "ideological diversity." More specifically, we scholars have made
great strides toward expanding the body of knowledge, I would argue,
related to the genetic characteristics of journalists, but we have not always
paid sufficient attention to the range of ideological perspectives that also
have been represented by the men and women who have contributed to
the media's evolution.
Oh yes, we have been eager to chronicle how progressive the Ameri-
can news media have been. How often have we read that a particular
reporter, editor, newspaper, or television network was "out in front" in
opposing the Vietnam War or in supporting civil rights?
But how often have any of us read — or written — that a particular
journalist or news organization was a firm and committed believer in the
status quo*. How often, in other words, have we committed our intellectual
time and energy to documenting that many newsmen and newswomen
have used their talent and the power of their positions to fight either to
hold society exactly where it is or to push society toward a time gone by?
And yet, are these individuals and organizations not also part of the
American journalistic experience? Do not their ideas and efforts — even if
they make some of us more than a bit uncomfortable — also deserve a
place in the historical record that documents the depth, the complexities,
and the texture of this nation's media?
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
The articles contained in this theme issue of American Journalism
seek to make a contribution to the effort to celebrate diversity by illumi-
nating some aspects of conservatism that are part of the heritage of the
American media.
In the first essay, Ford Risley provides a diamond-sharp analysis of
the 1850s editorial voice of William Tappan Thompson of the Savannah
Morning News. Although Thompson insisted that his paper was "neutral
and independent" on political issues, Ford shows that the paper was an
ardent supporter of the traditional values of the South — including
continued dependence on slavery.
The second article, by W. Joseph Campbell, provides a revisionist
interpretation of Raleigh News and Observer editor Josephus Daniels. In
his gracefully written piece, Joe examines the editorial content of Daniels'
paper at the turn of the century to show that the editor was not "one of
the fine figures of American journalism" that other historians have
characterized him as being, but was, in fact, a race-baiting white suprema-
cist. (Incidentally, because Joe Campbell and I are from the same univer-
sity, American Journalism editor Shirley Biagi shepherded this manuscript
through the review process; I do not even know the names of the indi-
viduals who reviewed the manuscript.)
Carolyn Kitch next moves us forward to the 1920s with an engaging
study of The Saturday Evening Post and Good Housekeeping. Carolyn's
highly-textured rhetorical analysis argues, and persuasively so, that these
two immensely popular publications attempted to erase from the Ameri-
can consciousness the identity of people who possessed characteristics
inconsistent with "the ideal family" as defined by the country's dominant
social and political forces.
Finally, Susan Weill provides an exhaustive examination of the
editorial and news content of all 20 daily newspapers being published in
Mississippi in the wake of the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision
by the US Supreme Court. Sue's study found that, despite the mandate by
the highest court in the land that segregation cease, Mississippi's daily
press continued to insist that American society was not ready to be
integrated and that blacks were by no means equal to whites.
As I attempted to identify common threads in the four studies, the
theme that came bursting to the surface is that all of them involve, either
directly or indirectly, the exact same issue: race. From the debate about
slavery in the 1850s to the strikingly similar one about segregation in the
1960s, the American news media have struggled — these essays on conser-
vatism once again show — with the single issue that, more than any other,
has continued to confound this nation throughout its history.
Regarding what this theme issue does not contain, all of the articles
consider how conservative ideology has been manifested in the main-
10 Streitmatter • Fall 1999
stream media. So, I regret, there are no articles on the history or impact of
overtly conservative alternative media. This dearth is consistent with my
own experience.
My next book will be a history of American dissident presses. In
searching for scholarly studies on the subject, I found material about
networks of dissident publications with a progressive bent — such as the
presses founded to advance the women's rights and counterculture
movements — but virtually nothing about presses that bore a conservative
stripe — such as those created to oppose immigration in the late 1900s or
to support the growth of the New Right in more recent decades. Perhaps
American Journalism will publish a future issue dedicated to research on
such ideologically conservative dissident presses.
I want to finish this editor's note by thanking Shirley Biagi for her
expert and generous guidance and by thanking the several dozen reviewers
who helped enormously with this issue by providing their thoughtful,
sensitive, and prompt — for the most part! — feedback to the authors
whose work is included here.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 1 1
Fall 1999
12
Call for Manuscripts
The Buzz: Technology in Journalism
and Mass Communication History
American Journalism, the quarterly journal of the American
Journalism Historians Association, announces a call for manuscripts for
a special theme issue focusing on technology and history.
The issue, edited by David T. Z. Mindich, called The Buzz:
Technology in Journalism and Mass Communication History, is sched-
uled for Fall 2000. The deadline for submissions is February 1 , 2000.
The theme of technology is inclusive. Topics could include but
are not limited to:
• how printing, the telegraph, or other devices changed or
challenged journalism;
• implicit comparisons between older technologies and newer ones,
including ways in which the public viewed future technology;
• the role of technology in formulating or reformulating minority
communities.
The term "technology" itself could be approached in several ways,
including electronic, electric, and pre-electric (including printing)
communication aids. Manuscripts that include graphics and/or
photographs are encouraged.
Manuscripts should follow the American Journalism guidelines for
submissions, and be sent to:
David T Z. Mindich
Dept. of Journalism and Mass Communication
Saint Michael's College
Colchester, VT 05439
For more information, please contact Mindich at dmindich@smcvt.edu
or phone (802) 654-2637.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 1 3
Fall 1999
14
American Journalism Reviewers
David Abrahamson
Northwestern University
June Adamson
University of Tennessee
Donna Allen
Women's Institute for Freedom of the Press
Perry Ashley
University of South Carolina
Donald Avery
Penn State University
Gerald Baldasty
University of Washington
Warren "Sandy" Barnard
Indiana State University
Sharon Bass
University of Kansas
Maurine Beasley
University of Maryland
Tom Beell
Iowa State University
Louise Benjamin
University of Georgia
Sherilyn Cox Bennion
Humboldt State University
Douglas Birkhead
University of Utah
UlfBjork
Indiana State University
Roy Blackwood
Bemidji State University
Margaret Blanchard
University of North Carolina
Fred Blevens
Southwest Texas State University
Sharon Blum
University Wisconsin-Madison
Patricia Bradley
Temple University
Bonnie Brennen
Virginia Commonwealth University
Joshua Brown
American Social History Project
Pam Brown
Rider University
Judith Buddenbaum
Colorado State University
Elizabeth Burt
University of Hartford
Flora Caldwell
University of Mississippi
Douglas Campbell
Lock Haven University
James Carey
Columbia University
Jean Chance
University of Florida
Ann Colbert
Indiana-Purdue University
Tom Connery
University of St. Thomas
John Coward
University of Tulsa
David Copeland
Emory & Henry College
Ed Cray
University of Southern California
David Davies
University of Southern Mississippi
John DeMott
University of Missouri, Kansas City
Donna Dickerson
University of South Florida
Pat Dooley
University of Maine
Carolyn Dyer
University of Iowa
Wally Eberhard
University of Georgia
Gary Edgerton
Old Dominion
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
15
Kathleen Endres
University of Akron
Ferrell Ervin
Southeast Missouri State University
Bruce Evenson
DePaul University
Fred Fedler
University of Central Florida
Tony Fellow
California State University, Fullerton
John Ferre
University of Louisville
Jean Folkerts
George Washington University
Robert Fortnet
Calvin College
Jim Foust
Bowling Green University
Ralph Frasca
Hofstra University
Alan Fried
University of South Carolina
Brooks Garner
Oklahoma State University
Dennis Gildea
Springfield College
Don Godfrey
Arizona State University
Doug Gomery
University of Maryland
Howard Good
State University of New York at New Paltz
Tracy Gottleib
Seton Hall University
Karla Gower
University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill
Paul Grosswiler
University of Maine
Dennie Hall
University of Central Oklahoma
Margot Hardenbergh
Marist College
Susan Henry
California State University, Northridge
Louise Hermanson
University of South Alabama
Tom Heuterman
Washington State University
Glenn Himebaugh
Middle Tennessee State University
Nathaniel Hong
University of Washington
Brad Howard
Mount St. Clare College
Herbert Howard
University of Tennessee
Carol Sue Humphrey
Oklahoma Baptist University
Bill Huntzicker
University of Minnesota
Frankie Hutton
Lehigh University
Terry Hynes
University of Florida
Dolores Jenkins
University of Florida
Jay Jernigan
Eastern Michigan University
Phil Jeter
Florida A & M University
Sammye Johnson
Trinity University
Tom Johnson
Southern Illinois University
Paula Kassell
New Directions for Women
Arthur Kaul
University of Southern Mississippi
Beverly Keever
University of Hawaii
Elliott King
Loyola College
Judith Knelman
Middlesex College
Bill Knowles
University of Montana
Ed Lambeth
University of Missouri
16
American Journalism Reviewers • Fall 1 999
Linda Lawson
Indiana University
Richard Lentz
Arizona State University
Lawrence Lichty
Northwestern University
Larry Lorenz
Loyola University
Charles Marler
Abilene Christian University
John Marrs
Everett Community College
Genevieve McBride
University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee
Maclyn McClary
Humboldt State University
Sheila Mclntyre
Harvard University
Floyd McKay
Western Washington University
Joe McKerns
Ohio State University
Craig McKie
Carleton University
James McPherson
Washington State University
Beverly Merrick
New Mexico State University
Karen Miller
University of Georgia
David Mindich
Saint Michaels College
Catherine Mitchell
University of North Carolina
James Mooney
East Tennessee State University
Meg Moritz
University of Colorado
Michael Murray
University of Missouri, St. Louis
Orayb Najjar
Northern Illinois University
Jack Nelson
Brigham Young University
Richard Nelson
Louisiana State University
Maureen Nemecek
Oklahoma State University
Mark Neuzil
University of St. Thomas
Doug Newsom
Texas Christian University
David Paul Nord
Indiana University
Ron Ostman
Cornell University
Laurie Ouellette
Rutgers University
Anna Paddon
Southern Illinois University
Oscar Patterson
Pembroke State University
Carol Polsgrove
Indiana University
Steve Ponder
University of Oregon
Alf Pratte
Brigham Young University
Chuck Rankin
Montana Historical Society
Barbara Reed
Rutgers University
Ford Risley
Pennsylvania State University
Nancy Roberts
University of Minnesota
Kitt Rushing
University of Tennessee, Chattanooga
Bill Ryan
Rockhurst College
Joe Scanlon
Carleton University
Dick Scheidenhelm
Colorado State University
Michael Schudson
UC San Diego
Mitchell Shapiro
University of Miami
Fall 1999 • American Journalism
17
Susan Siler
University of Tennessee
Roger Simpson
University of Washington
Norm Sims
University of Massachusetts
David Sloan
University of Alabama
Steven Smethers
Oklahoma State University
C. Zoe Smith
University of Missouri
F. Leslie Smith
University of Florida
Ted Smythe
California State University, Fullerton
David Spencer
University of Western Ontario
K. Sriramesh
Purdue University
Jim Startt
Valparaiso University
Ronald Stotyn
Georgia Southern University
Andris Straumanis
University of Minnesota
Rodger Streitmatter
American University
Lawrence Strout
Mississippi University for Women
Victoria Sturgeon
Tennessee State University
Leonard Teel
Georgia State University
Clarence Thomas
Virginia Commonwealth University
Bernell Tripp
University of Florida
Tom Volek
University of Kansas
Pat Washburn
Ohio University
Susan Weill
University of Alabama
Mary Weston
Northwestern University
Jan Whitt
University of Colorado
Gene Wiggins
University of Southern Mississippi
Julie Williams
Samford University
Betty Winfield
University of Missouri
18
American Journalism Reviewers • Fall 1999
The Savannah Morning News As a
Penny Paper: Independent, But
Hardly Neutral
By Ford Risley
The Savannah Morning News was founded in 1850 as a penny paper,
one of a new breed of American newspapers determined to, among other
things, be "neutral and independent" in politics. Yet while its founders liked to
proclaim the neutrality of the paper, a close reading of the Morning News
during the decade of the 1850s reveals a conservative journal like so many
others in the Antebellum South. Although the News initially followed many of
the practices of the penny press, its outspoken editor could not keep the paper
out of the political arena, particularly the debate over slavery. Significantly,
the News achieved financial independence from political parties through its
business practices, but its editor could never divorce himself from the conserva-
tive partisanship that was so much a part of the South at mid-century
When the news of John Browns execution reached Savannah,
Georgia, on December 2, 1859, William Tappan
Thompson of the Savannah Morning News could hardly
contain his joy. Years of anger toward the hated abolitionists of the North
boiled over as the editor sat down at his desk and penned a rare front-page
editorial for his daily newspaper. Brown's "ignominious death" was a
fitting close to an "infamous life," Thompson wrote in describing the
leader of the failed raid on Harper's Ferry. Might Brown's fate at the
gallows, he declared, "be the fate of the craven-hearted instigators and
plotters of treason which he so recklessly endeavored to execute?" More-
Ford Risley is an Assistant Professor in the College of Communications at the Pennsylvania
State University.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 19
over, Thompson added, "There are thousands of white-craved necks in
New England and the Northern states, today, that are as deserving of John
Brown's hempen tie . . ."'
Such an editorial was hardly surprising in a Southern newspaper as
the decade of the 1850s drew to a close. The region's editors had been
among the most outspoken defenders of slavery and Southern rights,
defending the South's status quo.2 Yet Thompson's strident rhetoric was
seemingly out of place in a newspaper that earlier in the decade had
prided itself as being "neutral and independent" in politics.
The Morning Neius had been founded as a so-called "penny paper,"
one of a small, but growing number of daily newspapers determined to,
among other things, break the partisan ties that had long been the
lifeblood of the American press. Borrowing words from their penny
brethren, the founders of the Morning News declared in their inaugural
issue:
The Morning News will be emphatically a Commercial Newspa-
per, devoted to the diffusion of useful information of subjects
of popular interest, and to the advancement of City and State
interest, generally; preserving at all times a strictly neutral and
independent position in regard to Politics and Parties.3
Conservative Partisanship
Yet while Thompson liked to proclaim the neutrality of his newspa-
per, a close reading of the Morning News during the 1850s reveals a
conservative journal like so many others in the Antebellum South.4
Although the Morning News initially followed many practices of the
penny press, including its pricing structure and emphasis on news, its
editor could not keep the paper out of the political arena.
As the economic, political, and social future of the South were being
debated, Thompson weighed in time and again on the editorial page of
the Morning News, consistently arguing the need for the South to main-
tain its traditional way of life, particularly the "peculiar institution" of
slavery. Significantly, the Morning News achieved financial independence
from political parties through its business practices, but its editor could
never divorce himself from the conservative partisanship that was so much
a part of the South at mid-century.5
Political partisanship had long been one of the distinguishing marks
of the American press. With relatively small readership and little advertis-
ing, newspapers of the Early Republic and Party periods relied heavily on
political patronage to survive financially. Struggling editors often were
20 Risley Fall 1999
more than happy to tout a political party's views and, in return, party
leaders helped pay the cost of publishing the six-cent sheets.6 Beginning in
the 1830s, however, mass-circulation "penny papers," as they often were
known, emerged in New York and other major eastern cities, directed at a
mass audience of middle- and working-class readers.
Led by the New York Sun and the New York Herald, these innova-
tive journals did not receive party patronage and instead were supported
by advertising and circulation. Following the example of the Sun and the
Herald, many pennies regularly proclaimed themselves to be politically
neutral and independent, largely as a way to distinguish themselves from
their partisan and mercantile rivals.7 Although early scholarship on the
penny press contended that the pennies were indeed neutral in politics,
more recent studies have suggested this was not always the case and that,
in fact, some newspapers remained very much partisan.8 The content of
the pennies also differed. Whereas their six-cent rivals emphasized politi-
cal and mercantile news, the penny papers focused on general interest
news, especially crime stories.
The penny press phenomena was largely centered in major, eastern
cities. However, a few newspapers south of the Mason-Dixon Line tried to
emulate their success. In New Orleans, the Picayune debuted in 1837,
consciously modeling itself after the Sun and Herald? That same year, the
founders of the Philadelphia Public Ledger, the first penny paper outside
of New York, sought to duplicate the success by founding the Baltimore
Sun.10 In 1850, the Richmond Dispatch began publishing, patterning
itself after the Baltimore Sun. In the manner of its predecessors, the
Dispatch declared itself "devoted to the interest of the city and free and
independent in its political views.""
William Tappan Thompson also admired the success of the
Baltimore Sun and decided he, too, wanted to emulate it in the South.
Born in Ohio in 1812, Thompson had apprenticed as a printer's devil in
Philadelphia. He then traveled south to Florida as a legal secretary, before
returning to journalism with Augustus Baldwin Longstreet in publishing
the States Rights Journal m Augusta, Georgia. After three years with
Longstreet, Thompson turned to a literary career and made several
attempts to establish literary journals that emphasized Southern culture.
None of the journals proved successful, but he achieved some literary
recognition with the creation of his colorful character, "Major Jones."12
Unsuccessful at publishing a literary journal in the Deep South,
Thompson moved to Baltimore and made one more try, this time with
the Western Continent. As with his earlier attempts, Thompson's goal with
the journal was to defend the South and disseminate Southern philosophy
but once again, the idea failed. While in Baltimore, however, Thompson
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 21
witnessed the success of a penny paper. Along with businessman John
Cooper, he decided to start such a newspaper back in Savannah, Georgia.13
In the mid- 19th century, Savannah was the state's best-known city,
the leading commercial and port center south of Charleston. Although it
was the largest city in Georgia, with a population of 15,312, Savannah
was still small by the standards of other cities in the North and South
where penny papers had been started. Moreover, Savannah already had
two well-established dailies, the Democratic Loyal Georgian and the Daily
Republican, a Whig sheet.14
Guided by "neutrality, independence and industry"
Nonetheless, on January 15, 1850, Thompson and Cooper pub-
lished the first issue of the Morning News, declaring it would be guided by
the principles of "neutrality, independence, and industry." Published
Monday through Saturday, its goal would be to give readers "a cheap,
reliable, and comprehensive newspaper, and to the business man an
advertising medium through which he may reach all classes of the com-
munity." A prospectus in the first issue outlined the success of the penny
press in other eastern cities, newspapers sold at a price "so low as to place
them within the reach of all," thus making them "the best mediums for
the general diffusion of information on all subjects bearing upon the
interests of the community." Thompson and Cooper announced:
We have determined to publish the Daily Morning News as
nearly as possible upon the plan of the penny press of the
Northern cities. The Morning News will be emphatically a
Commercial Newspaper, devoted to the diffusion of useful
information of subjects of popular interest, and to the ad-
vancement of City and State interest, generally; preserving at
all times a strictly neutral and independent position in regard
to Politics and Parties.15
Indeed, the Morning News was different from Savannah's existing
newspapers in several respects. The most obvious were its price and
distribution practices. Readers in the city for the first time could buy
individual copies of a local newspaper instead of being forced to buy
semi-annual or annual subscriptions. Single copies of the Morning News
sold for two cents and could be purchased on the street or at the
newspaper's office. At $4, the annual subscription rate of the Morning
News also was considerably less than Savannah's other two dailies.
22 Risley Fall 1999
The price structure apparently struck a chord with readers because
less than three weeks after the Morning News began publishing, Thomp-
son and Cooper claimed that it already had a greater circulation than
Savannah's two other dailies.16 "We may add that our circulation is
confined to no party and to no class," they wrote. "We are gratified to
know that the Morning News finds a welcome in the lady's parlor as well
as in the counting room of the merchant and the work-shop of the
mechanic." At the end of February, Thompson and Cooper announced
that circulation still was increasing and that they had to increase the
number of carriers from three to seven.17
The Morning News also was generally successful in its avowed goal of
carrying "useful information . . . of popular interest." During its first few
months of publishing, the newspaper reported on the completion of gas
lighting downtown, the dedication of a new Methodist church, and the
opening of the Athenaeum theater's new season.18 Savannah's big May
Day celebration was thoroughly covered.19 The Morning News also carried
a lengthy story about a cashier who allegedly defrauded a local bank of
$100,000.20 Businessmen no doubt liked regular features such as ship
arrivals and departures, arriving passengers, daily market prices, and
announcements of imports and exports.
The staff of the Morning News also showed they were adept at
handling big breaking news stories. For example, Thompson made special
arrangements to have news of a major fire in Macon telegraphed directly
to the Morning News. Although lacking much detail, the story still
included a list of all buildings damaged or destroyed and a map of the
area.21 In April, the biggest fire in more than 30 years consumed dozens of
buildings in Savannah. The fire began after midnight and was raging three
hours later when the Morning News went to press. Even so, the editor and
his staff still managed to carry a brief story that included a list of the
buildings damaged or destroyed. The next day the Morning News carried a
far more complete story with details of the fire.22
Morning News Adopts Sensationalism
The Morning News also took a cue from other penny papers, which
found that sensationalism appealed to many readers.23 Most of the news
items came from Northern exchange papers — and the more gruesome the
story, the better. For example, a story bearing the headline "Murder
Instead of Marriage" told of a young man who was shot and killed by a
father who disapproved of his daughter marrying the youth.24 There also
was the news of a bridesmaid whose dress caught fire before the wedding
ceremony. The terrified woman began running and soon became engulfed
in flames, startling the company gathered.25
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 23
As was customary in an era of personal journalism, the Morning
Neivs clearly reflected its editor's interests in literature, art, music, and the
social set. Thompson duly noted the arrival of a new edition of Harper's
Monthly every month. No theatre or musical production appeared in
Savannah without a story and, often, a review. Monthly book reviews
always received prominent play. And Thompson made sure to give at least
some mention of the various parties, balls, and other events of Savannah's
social set.26 The editor even occasionally inserted some of his own humor-
ous fiction in the Morning News.
At least initially, the Morning News largely steered clear of politics in
its editorial columns, maintaining its much-ballyhooed neutrality and
independence. Instead, Thompson often used the space to express civic
pride, praising the beauty of Savannah and promoting the city as the ideal
place to live and conduct business. Occasionally, he would express his
moral indignation against popular novels of low-life, the miracle cures
being peddled by some merchants, and the news that a big cockfight was
to be held in Savannah.27
However, most of Thompson's editorials were more like the one
about "Lover's Lane" in which he praised city officials for making long-
overdue improvements to the popular roadway. "We are pleased to learn
from the report of the Proceedings of the Council last night, that Lover's
Lane has been rendered passable for vehicles," Thompson wrote. "We
hope that we shall have no more complaints of the miserable condition of
the road, which for some times past made this pleasant drive almost
impassable. 'The course of true love never does run smoothly,' but that is
no reason why Lover's Lane shouldn't."28
Yet even in its first year of publishing, there were signs in the
Morning News that Thompson was not going to be able to maintain
neutral about politics, especially the growing debate over slavery's future
in the South. The editor had been largely silent regarding the debate over
the Compromise of 1850. However, the Morning News had only been
publishing for a couple months when Thompson declared support for a
convention of Southern states to be held in Nashville to discuss the
activities of Northern abolitionists. Thompson was not as ready as some
to offer voters a choice between secession and submission, but he argued
the convention was a vital step toward protecting the South's interests.
Thompson criticized Whig journals in the state that claimed there
was a lack of interest by Georgians in a convention. The editor admitted
there was "no excitement" in the state to meet, but he argued the South
needed to send a message of unity to the North. "On the question of
resistance to the Northern aggression there is no division at the South," he
declared, "and whether there be a convention or not the north may rest
assured that the Southern people will submit to no further wrong."29
24 Risky Fall 1999
Thompson Argues for Southern Unity
Despite the compromise, secessionists in several states, including
Georgia, decided to press the issue and call for a state convention. Georgia
Governor George W. Towns called for the election of a special state
convention to meet in December. As with the Nashville convention,
Thompson could not sit idly by. In several editorials, he did not go so far
as to urge secession but argued that state unity necessitated a convention.
Thompson also drew the line against what was quickly becoming his
biggest rival in Savannah, the Republican. He criticized his Whig counter-
part who he claimed wanted to "preserve his party affinities with the
North, regardless of all consequences to his own section" and who be-
lieved there was no alternative for the South, "but that of submission or
disunion." Thompson argued that only by unity could the wrongs of the
South be redressed. Discord, on the other hand, would "invite further
aggression from our enemies. If disunion is to follow proper constitu-
tional resistance to wrong, on the part of the Southern people, then let
the responsibility of it rest upon the wrong-doers, and not upon the
South."30
Growing support in Congress later in the year for a proposal to
abolish slavery in the District of Columbia was a clear indication of the
growing abolitionist influence, Thompson wrote, and that the "enemy"
was preparing to "attack the citadel." The South had no choice but to
unite for the common defense and "prepare for the final struggle," he
argued adding, "The only hope for the Union of the States is the Union
of the South."31
Thompson was especially concerned with what he saw as the
"whirlwind of fanatacism" being spread by abolitionists in the North. He
claimed in one editorial that abolitionists already had seized the political
agenda and were posing a grave threat to the peculiar institution. The
South had to take action on its own behalf, he wrote. "Northern opposi-
tion is now, we fear, too feeble to crush the hydra-headed monster, which
must either prey upon the South or retrieve its death blow at our
hands."32 Thompson also showed he had little tolerance for freedom of
speech or the press, if it protected abolitionist agitators. Although every-
one was entitled to their opinions, he argued, "opinions dangerous to the
peace of the community, had better be held strictly as the private property
of their possessors . . ."33
Such sober thoughts were set aside as the Morning News celebrated
its first anniversary in January 1851. The management of the newspaper
marked the occasion by expanding the paper's size by about one-third.
The new five-column format provided more room for news and advertis-
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 25
ing and also allowed the newspaper to increase its type size.34 At the same
time, the Morning News introduced a new front-page vignette on its
nameplate featuring scenes from Savannah: the port, ships, a train, and
prominent buildings, along with the Georgia coat of arms. Later in the
year, the Morning News purchased a new Hoe cylinder power press
capable of printing 1,500 sheets an hour. It was one more indication of
the success of the Morning News, Thompson bragged to readers.
Indeed, by the first anniversary of publication, the Morning News
could justifiably claim a successful debut. It had become the most widely
read newspaper in Savannah; many issues overflowed with advertising. It
remained one of the cheapest papers in the state and the only one that
offered single-copy sales.35 The Morning News could not claim the kind of
extensive or lively news reporting that many other penny papers could,
but its coverage of Savannah certainly was respectable.
Thompson, however, clearly was finding it harder to maintain the
widely proclaimed independence and neutrality of the Morning News.
While it was true the Morning News did not overtly support one party or
another, it was increasingly evident the paper was in no way neutral when
it came to the interests of the South. In this respect, the Morning News
was no different than most Southern newspapers. Indeed, the debate over
slavery increasingly was at the centrality of Southern thought.36
Showing his conservative stripes, Thompson always gave prominent
play to news of the increasing abolitionist activity in the North, often
inserting his own editorial comments about what it meant to the future of
slavery and the South. He expressed outrage at seeing a copy of William
Lloyd Garrison's controversial newspaper, The Liberator. Ignoring the
obvious threats to a free press, he called on Southern postmasters to refuse
to distribute the abolitionist journal.37 Thompson even saw danger
lurking in less-threatening sources. When the southern wing of the
Methodist Church sued the northern wing, Thompson expressed grave
doubt that the Southerners could get justice in a northern court with its
"strong prejudice" against the region.38
The Morning News and the Republican regularly traded insults over
the different views each held about the future course of the South on
sectional issues. In this sense, they were no different from the rival party
papers in so much of 19th century America.39 While the Republicans
editor was adept at name calling, Thompson was every bit his equal. In
one editorial, Thompson compared his rival at various times to both a
rabid dog and a slanderous woman. Thompson claimed the Republican
had misrepresented the views of the Morning News and that readers knew
where his paper stood on important issues.40
Indeed, the Morning News continued to enjoy a larger circulation
than its Savannah rivals. Perhaps bolstered by this fact, management
26 Risley Fall 1999
raised the paper's single-copy price to three cents early in 1852, although
the weekly, monthly, and annual subscription prices remained the same.'*1
An indication of the success of the Morning News is that later in the year a
new journal joined the newspaper lineup in Savannah. The Savannah
Courier copied many of the practices of the Morning News, most notably
its pricing structure. Notably, however, the Courier announced it would
be independent, but not neutral in politics.42
Thompson Supports Secession
As talk increasingly turned to the 1852 presidential race, Thompson
was concerned that abolitionists would seek to exert their growing
influence. He saw grave threats in the activities of various northern anti-
slavery societies, especially the increasingly controversial Fugitive Slave
Law. Already, he wrote, it had become clear that the majority of North-
erners were resolved on the repeal of the law. In view of this, he asked, "is
it not the duty of the South to be prepared for the worst, and to assume a
firm, resolute, and unmistakable position on this question?"
Georgians, he declared, must "make no further concessions to free-
soil fanaticism ... A Presidential contest is at hand. Parties are maneuver-
ing for position. Now is the time for Georgia to test the sincerity, the
patriotism of the North." The Compromise of 1850 must be upheld, he
argued. And if not, Thompson wrote that Southerners should be prepared
"to resist even to the disruption of every tie that binds us to the Union."
While not embracing secession, Thompson had joined the ranks of
Southerners who publicly supported the doctrine that secession was a
valid constitutional remedy, applicable in appropriate circumstances. In so
doing, he made his supposedly neutral newspaper increasingly political
and increasingly Democratic.43
Meanwhile, in its news columns, the Morning News continued to
report the news taking place in Savannah: the arrival of a new fire engine;
a lost child found in the city; the opening of the Savannah Medical
College; and a jailbreak by two men using a rope made of bed sheets.44
Still, like most of his counterparts at small daily newspapers, Thompson
was doing the vast majority of the writing and reporting found in the
Morning News. And it was becoming increasingly clear that his interests
lay chiefly in the editorial columns of the newspaper.
Thompson seemingly saw sectional antagonism everywhere. Sensi-
tive to criticism of the region and its "peculiar institution," he constantly
felt the need to promote and defend the South. The editor liked to paint a
rosy-hued picture of Southern progress toward economic self-sufficiency,
pointing to local examples such as a new Savannah-built steam engine.45
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 27
He advocated sending Southern boys to the region's schools, noting, "If
collegiate education is inseparable from sectional and sectarian influences,
it is proper that Southern parents should take care that those influences
should be favorable rather than hostile to our political and domestic
institutions."46 He also cited statistics showing the long life spans of many
blacks as proof that slave owners were not the cruel monsters they often
were portrayed in the North.47 Thompson joined other Southerners in the
outcry over publication of Uncle Tom's Cabin and its portrayal of slavery.
The popular book was even more evidence to Thompson that the North
had become the avowed enemy of the South. By 1853, Thompson was
proudly claiming that "both the authoress and her book are rapidly
sinking into insignificance and contempt to which the sordid moves of
the one and the literary merits of the other entitle them."48
During the difficult year of 1854, Thompson's editorial voice was
almost silenced, at the same time that his newspaper and adopted home-
town were badly shaken. A yellow fever epidemic ravaged Savannah from
August to November, killing more than 600 people. Thompson caught
the fever early in the epidemic and was critically ill for several weeks.
When well enough to travel, he and his family fled to Augusta and later
across the river into South Carolina to escape the epidemic.49 Thompson
returned to Savannah in late October to learn that five members of the
newspaper's staff had died from the fever. If the epidemic was not bad
enough, a major storm struck Savannah in the midst of the outbreak,
leaving behind massive wreckage.50
The unsettled business conditions following the epidemic and
storm, combined with the nationwide recession of 1854-1855, caused
frequent changes in the ownership of the Morning News over the next five
years. In November 1854, Thompson and Cooper took in two additional
partners. The following March, Thompson purchased the shares of
Cooper and the two new partners, making him the sole owner as well as
editor. In a message to readers, Thompson pledged to continue the
editorial philosophy of the Morning News, saying its success had proven
the wisdom of maintaining "perfect neutrality and independence of all
parties, cliques, or factions."51
Thompson Supports the Democrats
By 1855, however, it was abundantly clear that the Morning News
had become anything but neutral. There is no indication that the Morning
News ever received party patronage from the Democratic Party. Even so,
Thompson was finding it difficult to divorce himself from politics.52 At
the same time, it was evident the editor had made a home for himself in
28 Risley Fall 1999
Savannah. Thompson moved in Savannah's leading political, business,
and social circles. He became port warden and chairman of the board of
health. He was one of a group of businessmen who guaranteed the bonds
of the Savannah, Albany, and Gulf Railroad. A play based on his Major
Jones books was regularly performed, and he had the honor of seeing the
name Major Jones given to an ornate coach that took pleasure seekers to
nearby Tybee Island. He was even elected a Democratic committeeman
from Chatham County.53 Thompson and the Morning News had become
inseparable. As a man with literary talents and interests, the editor no
doubt took pride in his independence. However, he also had become a
devoted Georgian and a Southerner. He put his love for the state and its
traditional way of life above that independence.
The difficulties Thompson and his newspaper went through in
1854 kept the editor largely quiet on such issues as the Kansas - Ne-
braska Act and the rise of the anti-immigration party, the Know-Noth-
ings. However, Thompson roared back on his editorial page the follow-
ing year as these topics increasingly grabbed the nation's attention. The
Know-Nothings, also known as the Americans, had exploited the
growing animosity toward Catholics and foreigners, while competing
with both Whigs and Republicans for the anti-Democratic vote. Thomp-
son viewed Know-Nothingism as in "deadly hostility to the institutions
and rights of the South." All signs, Thompson wrote, pointed to the
Know-Nothings becoming a sectional party comprised of free-soilers and
old Whigs. As such, it was "another solemn admonition that the time is
rapidly approaching when the question is to be determined whether
those rights and institutions can be maintained by us under the Consti-
tution . ..." It also was more evidence to Thompson that the South
must unite under the Democratic Party.54
Perhaps because Know-Nothingism attracted relatively little interest
from Georgians, Thompson directed most of his attention to the increas-
ingly violent struggle taking place in Kansas. While the Kansas - Nebraska
Act was being debated in Congress, abolitionist and pro-slavery groups raced
to control the fate of the state. The editor was outraged that emigrant aid
societies had sponsored free-soil settlers moving to Kansas, ignoring that
Missourians had used force to repel the settlers.55 For Thompson it was one
thing when the anti-slavery message had been largely confined to abolitionist
groups, churches, and legislative halls, but the events in Kansas showed that
abolitionists were going too far. The "demon of Abolitionism" had grown
beyond the North's power to control it, he argued. "Unfortunately, for the
country, what has been a merely moral question at the North ..." he wrote,
"is at the South a material question of the gravest importance, involving our
very existence as a people."56
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 29
For Thompson, the settlement of Kansas was a clear trial of sectional
strength. With the stakes so high, Thompson stepped up his invective and
cast the Kansas question in apocalyptic terms. "We have surely fallen on
evil days," he wrote. "A dark cloud is gathering on our Western border. A
spirit of reckless fanaticism rules the day, threatening . . . the American
people."57 Thompson argued that the state's newspapers had not been
doing enough to make the issues at stake in Kansas clear to Georgians. To
him the role of the South's press was clear. "The time has come when the
question if [sic] Southern equality and rights in the union must be met,"
he wrote, "and the press is but performing its duty to the South and the
country by pointing out the imminence of the danger." Georgians must
"meet our foes . . . with their own weapons," he declared. "If the Consti-
tution and laws are to be disregarded, and Kansas is to be the battle
ground . . . then Georgia should lose no time in being represented
there."58
As the violence in Kansas increased, Thompson stepped up his
rhetoric. Wasting few words, he declared that, "Even the most conserva-
tive of the South must view a large majority of the people of the North as
enemies."59 He pounded home that message, as hardly a day went by
without some kind of editorial comment. The editor also gave up any
public pretense of the Morning News being politically neutral. His at-
tempts at extolling the virtues of nonpartisanship, which he had pro-
claimed regularly in the paper since the Morning News began publishing,
ceased altogether.
In his editorials, Thompson decried the support given to abolition-
ists by Northern churches. He reveled in stories about alleged poor
treatment of free blacks in the North. He also defended the vicious caning
of Senator Charles Sumner by Representative Preston Brooks.60 He called
John Brown and participants in the so-called Pottawatomie Massacre of
pro-slavery settlers in Kansas a "curse to the nation and a disgrace to the
human race."61 And he referred to members of the emerging Republican
Party as revolutionaries who possessed all "the elements of anarchy." "Are
they only a darker shade of that same class of men who, in the French
Revolution, filled the civilized world with horror and dismay?" Thompson
asked.62
The racial aspects of Southern life increasingly crept into the editori-
als found in the Morning News. Perhaps mindful of his own Northern
upbringing, Thompson criticized the nativist platform of the Know-
Nothing Party, saying it was not consistent with American principles
welcoming "true men of every nation and clime" so long as they were of
the right skin color. He urged Southerners to distance themselves from
such thinking and to welcome anyone "who stands with us on the white
30 Risley Fall 1999
man's platform." As men devoted to the Constitution and the rights of
the South, Thompson wrote, "We go for the white basis of political
equality." The editor had no use for "Parson" Brownlow, the controversial
Tennessee editor who was an outspoken Unionist.64 Thompson also had
nothing but contempt for those men and women in the South who dared
criticize slavery. When two men tried to speak out against the treatment
of slaves in Savannah, they were rightly arrested, he noted. Both men, the
editor snidely remarked, "should be thankful at having escaped a coat of
tar and feathers."65
The Morning News also stepped up its defense of the Souths treat-
ment of blacks. In one editorial, Thompson described a local Negro
Sunday school class walking to the park for a May picnic. The colorful
procession, he wrote, would "have made Aunt Harriet Beecher Stowe's
philanthropic heart throb. We are sure that she never saw a happy or
better clad party, composed of the children of the laboring poor, either in
this country or in Europe."66
Thompson reveled in the news that a group of white shipyard
workers in Baltimore were protesting the hiring of free blacks. The
incident, he wrote, was one more example that Negroes "have been driven
from every employment that a white man will engage in." His cure for the
problem was predictable. "As a civilized being the African must 'earn his
bread by the sweat of his brow,' and while he occupies the same soil with
the white man his only security is in the guardianship established by the
relation of master and slave."67
The editor also had plenty to say about the news of a plan to move
thousands of free blacks in New York to Haiti. It would be far better for
the Negroes if they were returned to slavery in the South, Thompson
noted. There could be no denying that the slaves of the South were not
only happier than free blacks in the North, he wrote, but "many wise
people believe them to be the most thoroughly contented people on the
face of the earth." "[M]any a poor starving black . . . sighs when he thinks
of the glorious days spent on the old plantation and in his heart desires to
return to the corn and cotton fields of his youth."68
Opposes Greeley and Bennett
A frequent target of Thompson's attacks was the northern press,
particularly New York editors Horace Greeley and James Gordon Bennett.
He criticized the New York dailies for their appetite for crime and sensa-
tionalism, conveniently forgetting that the Morning News also had used
such stories to sell papers for years.69 But far worse were the stances of the
Tribune and Herald on the slavery issue. In Thompson's view, Bennett was
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 31
a traitor to his race and country who had repeatedly slandered and
insulted the South.70 Greeley, who was derisively referred to as the "Phi-
losopher," was ridiculed for his support of abolitionism and his love of
new ideas.71
Bennett and Greeley were not the only editors who came under
assault by Thompson. The squabbling between Thompson and his
counterpart at the Savannah Republican had grown increasingly antagonis-
tic and bitter. The two editors traded different opinions — and barbs —
over a congressional bill in 1859 to ban slavery from the Arizona territory.
The Republican's editor concluded his article by alluding to the position of
the Morning News and commenting, "there are some elements . . . that
only come to the surface when its waters are agitated and muddied." To
which Thompson replied the next day, "And there are some excrescences
(sic) that only grow . . . calm and stagnation, and are the sure index of
surrounding impurity, corruption, and decay."72 By this point, the
Morning News and the Republican were the only two papers still publish-
ing in Savannah. A lack of funding had led the Courier to close several
years earlier. More surprising was the closing of the Loyal Georgian in
1858. No reasons were given by its publishers, but certainly the increas-
ingly Democratic stance of the Morning News made it difficult for the
Loyal Georgian to distinguish itself.
By 1859, Thompson's worst fears were coming true. The rise of the
hated "Black Republicans" posed an undeniable threat to the South and
slavery, in his view. With John Brown's ill-fated raid on Harper's Ferry,
and the subsequent northern reaction, Thompson had all the evidence he
needed that the North was indeed the enemy, although he initially chose
his words carefully. Brown's attempt to "deluge the Southern States in
blood," Thompson wrote, should be enough to convince Southerners of
"the necessity of greater watchfulness and of some . . . effective means of
protecting themselves."74 However, Northern sympathy with Brown's plot
angered Southerners more than any single thing "in the long list of
Northern wrongs," he argued. Even the most conservative men, Thomp-
son wrote, "regard the separation of North and South as an inevitable, if
not an imminent necessity."75
Never a Neutral Newspaper
By the end of the decade, it was clear that William Tappan Thompson's
attempt to publish a politically neutral newpaper in Savannah had failed.
Although the Morning News never was officially the political organ of any
party, it also was never as neutral as the editor liked to claim. Declaring
the Morning News to be a penny paper was a clear way to distinguish the
32 Risley Fall 1999
journal from Savannah's existing partisan press. However, the Morning
News gradually succumbed to the narrow sectional orthodoxy of the
South, until by 1 860 it was as solidly a conservative, Democratic sheet as
any newspaper in Georgia. In this sense, the Morning News was not so
different from earlier penny papers in the North that claimed to be
nonpartisan, but in practice were not. And, indeed, Thompson was no
less passionate on the subject of slavery, as other penny editors in the
North, most notably Greeley, who opposed the institution, and Bennett,
who supported it.
The Morning News, in fact, is more proof that old ideas regarding
the political neutrality of the penny press as a whole should be put to rest.
Thompson himself recognized what had become of his grand experiment
at neutrality six years later, after civil war had ravaged his beloved South.
In a letter to a friend, the former novelist wrote, "For the past 1 5 years I
have been completely absorbed with politics and so identified with the
exciting questions of the time, that I have given no thought to the more
congenial pursuits of literature. But in politics as in everything else my life
has been a failure."76
Thompson was being too hard on himself. He had launched a
successful daily newspaper, one that is still publishing today.77 Moreover,
the editor had shown through the Morning News that financial indepen-
dence from political parties was indeed possible in the South, and that a
successful newspaper could be established through a mass circulation, not
necessarily a political one. Yet Thompson also had learned that while
political neutrality was easy to declare in mid- 19th century America, it
was much harder to maintain, especially for one so committed to the ways
of the Old South.
Endnotes
'Stephen B. Oates, To Purge This Land With Blood: A Biography of John Brown (New York: Harper
& Row, 1970), 290-358; David M. Potter, The Impending Crisis, 1848-1861, ed. Don E.
Fehrehbacher (New York: Harper & Row, 1976), 356-384; Daily Morning News, 3 December 1859.
"For the defense of slavery in general, see Drew Gilpin Faust, The Ideology of Slavery: Proslavery
Thought in the Antebellum South, 1830-1860 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1981);
and William Sumner Jenkins, Pro-Slavery Thought in the Old South (Chapel Hill: University of Notth
Carolina Press, 1935).
3Daily Morning News, 15 January 1850.
''Carl R. Osthaus, Partisans of the Southern Press: Editorial Spokesman of the 19th Century
(Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1994), 69-94; Avery Craven, The Growth of Southern
Nationalism, 1848-1861 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1953), 303-311; Clement
Eaton, The Growth of Southern Civilization: 1790-1860 (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1961), 265-
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 33
270; and Frank Luther Mott, American Journalism: A History 1690-1960, 3rd ed. (New York:
Macmillan, 1962), 228-252.
5See, generally, Dwight L. Dumond, Southern Editorials on Secession (New York: Century Co.
1931). For a discussion of the secession debate in Georgia, see Louis Turner Griffith and John Erwin
Talmadge, Georgia Journalism 1 763-1 950 (Athens: University of Georgia Press), 43-65.
''W. David Sloan, and Julie Hedgepeth Williams, The Early American Press, 1690-1783 (Westport:
Greenwood Press, 1994); Culver H. Smith, The Press, Politics and Patronage: The American
Government's Use of Morning Newspapers 1789-1875 (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1977); and
Gerald J. Baldasty, "The Press and Politics in the Age of Jackson, "Journalism Monographs 89 (1984).
7The literature on the penny press is extensive. Frank Luther Mott, American Journalism: A History
1690-1960, 3rd ed. (New York: Macmillan, 1962), 228-252; Michael Emery and Edwin Emery, The
Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media, 8th ed. (New Yotk: Simon & Schuster,
1996), 99-106; Michael Schudson, Discovering the Morning News: A Social History of American
Morning Newspapers (New York: Basic Books, 1978), 14-58; Dan Schiller, Objectivity and the
Morning News, The Public and the Rise of Commercial Morning Newspapers (Philadelphia: University
of Pennsylvania Press, 1981); Gerald Baldasty, The Commercialization of News in the 19th Century
(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1992); and James L. Crouthamel, Bennett's New York Herald
and the Rise of the Popular Press (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1989).
"For changing views of the penny press, see John C. Nerone, "The Mythology of the Penny Press,"
Critical Studies in Mass Communication 4 ( 1987) ; David Mindich, Just the Facts: How "Objectivity"
Came to Define American Journalism (New York: New York University Press, 1998), 15-63; William E.
Huntzicker, The Popular Press, 1833-1865 (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1999), 35-51; and Andrew
Saxton, "Problems of Race and Class in the Origins of the Mass Circulation Press," American
Quarterly, 36, 21 1-234. Among the penny papers that were notably partisan were the New York
Herald and the New York Tribune.
''Osthaus, Partisans of the Southern Press: Editorial Spokesman of the Nineteenth Century , 47-68.
'"Harold A. Williams, "Light for All: Arunah S. Abell and the Rise of the Baltimore Sun,"
Maryland Historical Magazine, 82 (Fall 1987), 197-213.
"Lester Cappon, Virginia Morning Newspapers, 1821-1935 (New York: Appleton-Century, 1936), 8.
l2The letters of Jones, an uneducated, independent-minded farmer whose activities provided
humorous commentary on domestic life, appeared in one ot the journals and afterwards were
collected under the title, Major Jones's Courtship . Two other books were later published, Major Jones's
Chronicles ofPineville and Major Jones's Sketches of Travel. Henry Prentice Miller, "Life and Works of
William Tappan Thompson," (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Chicago, 1942), 1-14.
"Miller, "Life and Works," 26-29.
l4Charles H. Olmstead, "Savannah in the 40s," Georgia Historical Quarterly, 1 (September 1917):
243-252; Griffith and Talmadge, Georgia Journalism , 47-48.
l5Daily Morning News, 15 January 1850.
KGriffin and Talmadge, Georgia Journalism, 47-48; Daily Morning News, 15 January 1850.
' Daily Morning News, 30 January 1850. No circulation figures are available to verify the claims of
the Morning News, but it is significant that neither the Republican nor Loyal Georgian disputed the
circulation figures, as they most certainly would have done if the figures were not true. Daily Morning
News, 27 February 1850.
'"Daily Morning News, 25 July 1850.
'"Ibid., 3 May 1850.
-"Ibid., 4 March 1850.
2lDaily Morning News, 20 March 1850.
"Ibid., 25 April 1850; 26 April 1850.
:,Andie Tucher, Froth and Scum: Truth, Beauty, Goodness and the Ax Murder in America's First Mass
Medium (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1994), 7-20; Mott, American Journalism, 243.
24Daily Morning News, 15 January 1850.
"Ibid., 15 February 1850.
'f,In one issue, Thompson publicly complained how he had been able to attend only two of the
three social gatherings he had been invited to one evening. Daily Morning News, 14 February 1851.
34 Risley Fall 1999
J7Ibid., 27 February 1850; 30 March 1851; 19 April 1852.
2!%id., 15 December 1853.
-"Michael Holt, The Political Crisis of the 1850s, (New York: W.W. Norton, 1972), 67-99; Potter,
The Impending Crisis, 104-105; Daily Morning News, 22 April 1850.
3"Horace Montgomery, "The Crisis of 1850 and its Effect on Political Parties in Georgia," Georgia
Historical Quarterly (1940), 293-322; Richard Harrison Shyrock, Georgia and the Union in 1850
(Durham: Duke University Press, 1926), 295-363; Daily Morning News, 2 October 1850.
"Daily Morning News, 24 September 1850.
3'Ibid., 19 November 1850. Some penny editors were as critical of the South and slavery as
Thompson was of the North and abolitionism. Most notable perhaps was Horace Greeley of the New
York Tribune. Ralph R. Fahrney, Horace Greeley and the Tribune in the Civil War (Cedar Rapids: Torch
Press, 1936), 7-37.
"Ibid., 14 August 1850.
34Ibid., 15 January 1851.
35By 1851, both of Savannah's other daily papers had lowered their annual and semi-annual
subscription rates to that of the Morning News. As best as can be determined, however, neither paper
offered single-issue sales.
36See, generally, Craven, Growth of Southern Nationalism; Jenkins, Pro-Slavery Thought in the Old
South .
37Daily Morning News, 22 July 1 85 1 .
38Ibid., 21 July 1851.
3''Eaton, Growth of Southern Civilization, 268; Osthaus, Partisans of the Southern Press, 1-11.
4"Daily Morning Ne ws, 31 January 1851.
4lIbid., 15 January 1852.
42Ibid., 21 August 1852. Very little is known about the Courier. Only one issue of the paper is
known to exist.
43Stanley W. Campbell, Slave Catchers: Enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law, 1850-1860 (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1968), 49-54; Potter, Impending Crisis, 130-139; Daily
Morning News, 11 February 1852.
«Daily Morning News, 1 July 1852; 7 October 1852; 3 March 1853; 25 April 1853.
45Ibid., 30 August 1853.
46Ibid., 29 March 1850.
47Ibid„ 11 March 1853.
48Craven, Growth of Southern Nationalism, 1 50- 1 57; James M. McPherson, Battle Cry for Freedom:
The CivilWarEra (New York: Ballantine Books, 1988), 88-90; Daily Morning News, 7 July 1853.
49Daily Morning News, 24 October 1854.
5(,Ibid., 9 September 1854.
i]D&\\y Morning News, 24 March 1855.
"Patronage from the U.S. State Department in the mid- 1850s went to two other Georgia papers,
the Augusta Constitutionalist and Columbus Times and Sentinel. Smith, Press, Politics and Patronage,
270.
"Miller, Life and Works, 31-32; Carl R. Osthaus, "From the Old South to the New South: The
Editorial Career of William Tappan Thompson and the Savannah Morning News," Southern Quarterly
14 (April 1976), 240-241. In becoming active in political circles, Thompson was following in the
footsteps of rival editors in the North such as Henry Raymond of The Neiv York Times, who was a
Whig activist and elected lieutenant governor of New York in 1854. Francis Brown, Raymond of the
Times (New York: W W Norton, 1 95 1 ), 1 29- 1 52.
5,,Holt, The Political Crisis of the 1850s, 156-175; Anthony Gene Carey, "Too Southern to be
Americans: Proslavery Politics and the Failure of the Know-Nothing Party in Georgia, 1854-1865."
Civil War History, (1995), 22-40; Daily Morning News, 16 June 1855.
"Potter, Impending Crisis, 199-224. McPherson, Battle Cry for Freedom, 145-169; James A. Rawley,
Bleeding Kansas and the Coming of the Civil War (Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott, 1969), 79-92.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 35
56Daily Morning News, 25 May 1855; 24 August 1855; 9 October 1855.
57Ibid., 24 August 1855.
5sIbid., 9 October 1855. Thompson himself became one of the leaders of a local committee created
to raise funds for pro-slavery settlers in Kansas. In his hatred for abolitionists, Thompson was much
like James Gordon Bennett who regularly referred to them by a variety of names such as "beastly
radicals." Douglas Fermer, James Gordon Bennett and the New York Herald: A Study of Editorial
Opinion in the Civil War Era, 1854-1867 (New York: St. Martins Press, 1986), 62-72; Crouthamel,
Bennett's New York Herald, x.
"Ibid., 22 January 1856.
'"'Ibid., 29 July 1856.
"Ibid., 28 August 1856.
wOates, To Purge This Land, 126-137; Daily Morning News , 19 August 1856.
"Daily Morning Neivs, 1 October 1857.
MIbid.,31 August 1858.
"Ibid., 27 December 1856.
"Ibid., 6 May 1858.
67Ibid., 15 June 1858.
"Ibid., 31 July 1858.
MIbid., 23 May 1857.
7"Ibid„ 5 August 1856.
7lIbid., 6 August 1857.
72Ibid., 7 February 1859.
7,Ibid., 15 August 1858.
74Daily Morning News, 22 October 1859; Oates, To Purge This Land With Blood, 290-358; Potter,
The Impending Crisis, 356-384; Osthaus, "From the Old South to the New South," 243.
"Daily Morning News, 11 November 1859.
7"'Letter to Salem Dutcher," 16 October 1866, as quoted in Miller, Life and Works, 29.
"The Morning News changed owners and acquired a new name, the Daily Herald, in 1865 after
Savannah was captured by the Union Army in December 1864. The papers name was changed back
to the Morning News in 1868 and it maintains that name today. Griffith andTalmadge, Georgia
Journalism, 400.
36 Risley- Fall 1999
"One of the fine figures of
American journalism": A Closer
Look at Josephus Daniels of the
Raleigh News and Observer
by W. Joseph Campbell
This article examines the prominent yet little-studied role of Josephus
Daniels — owner and editor of the Raleigh News and Observer, who has
been called "one of the fine figures of American journalism" — in the white
supremacy political campaigns in North Carolina 100 years ago. Daniels'
newspaper also applauded the destruction in 1898 of the leading African
American newspaper in North Carolina, justifying the anti-press violence in
the name of white supremacy. Daniels' advocacy of white supremacy and black
disfranchisement has been consistently overlooked or little-examined by
journalism historians who have typically regarded Daniels as a progressive
Southern journalist who opposed railroad and tobacco trusts. This study, in
scrutinizing Daniels' militancy in favor of what he called "the elimination of
the Negro from politics, " argues for a fuller, more critical assessment of a
journalist who styled himself an "editor in politics. "
The greatest folly and crime in our national history was the
establishment of [N]egro suffrage immediately after the [Civil]
War. Not a single good thing has come of it, but only evil.
— Editorial in Raleigh News and Observer, 28 January 1900'
W. Joseph Campbell, formerly a newspaper and wire service reporter in the United States,
Europe, and Africa, is an Assistant Professor in the School of Communication at American
University in Washington, DC.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 37
One hundred years ago North Carolina was locked in
successive "white supremacy" political campaigns. They
were virulent, often-violent movements that shattered a
progressive, if brittle, coalition of Republicans and Populists; restored
Democrats to what became decades of unchallenged political rule; and
denied suffrage to nearly all black residents, relegating them to political
obscurity in North Carolina for more than 50 years.2
A powerful leader of the state's white supremacy campaigns in 1898
and 1900 was Josephus Daniels, owner and editor of the Raleigh News
and Observer, then North Carolina's largest-circulating newspaper.3
Daniels and his newspaper championed the white supremacy cause in
frequent news reports, vigorously worded editorials, provocative letters,
and vicious front page cartoons that called attention to what the newspa-
per declared were the horrors of "[Njegro rule." Daniels' News and
Observer also justified in the name of white supremacy the destruction of
the leading African American newspaper in North Carolina in a post-
election race riot in 1898. Daniels also kept a watchful eye for challenges
to white supremacy, seeking in one celebrated case the resignation of a
university professor who criticized the racial intolerance of Democratic
party leaders and their newspapers.
Despite Daniels' prominence in the white supremacy campaigns in
North Carolina, his race-baiting rhetoric has scarcely been recognized by
journalism historians or in works of American journalism history. Rather,
Daniels' reputation in journalism history is that of a progressive Southern
reformer, a tireless crusader against railroad and tobacco trusts, a "solid
champion of decency,"4 and "one of the fine figures of American journal-
ism."5
This study seeks to direct the attention of journalism historians to
Daniels' militant white supremacy advocacy and argues for a fuller, more
critical assessment by historians of a Southern journalist who was closely
aligned with the Democratic party and, as such, styled himself an "editor
in politics."6 This study, which focuses on Daniels' News and Observer
during the white supremacy campaigns of 1898 and 1900, also offers
revealing insight about how partisan politics infused Southern newspapers
at the turn of the century, a topic which has attracted only limited
scholarly attention.7 The US press near the turn of the century still tended
to be overtly politicized and Daniels' News and Observer is a telling
reminder of how partisanship, not fair play or tolerance of conflicting
opinions, often shaped the journalism of the times.
The study, moreover, demonstrates the importance of treating with
caution the characterizations of great virtue of figures in American
journalism and argues for the importance of searching far afield, beyond
38 Campbell 'Fall 1999
journalism history, for insights and interpretations about prominent
journalists of the past. There is, after all, a small but growing body of
literature — including several studies of the politics and society in North
Carolina and the South at the end of the 19th century, when efforts to
disfranchise blacks became widespread — that points to Daniels' central
role in the white supremacy campaigns.
Daniels Active in Partisan Politics
Daniels, in his autobiography, neither conceals nor apologizes for his
newspaper's race-baiting rhetoric. "The News and Observer was relied
upon to carry the Democratic message and to be the militant voice of
White Supremacy," he wrote, "and it did not fail in what was expected,
sometimes going to extremes in its partisanship."8 Like many Southern
editors of his time, Daniels took an active role in partisan politics.9 He
was a national Democratic committeeman and achieved a measure of
national prominence in 1913 when President-elect Woodrow Wilson
appointed him Navy secretary.10 Later he was ambassador to Mexico
during the presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt, who had been an Assis-
tant Secretary during Daniels' years at the Navy Department."
Josephus Daniels was born in 1862 and grew up in Wilson, in the
heart of North Carolina's Second Congressional District which, after the
Civil War, was dominated by black voters. Journalism, politics and race all
converged for him at an early age, as suggested by his recollection of
attending congressional nominating conventions in Wilson as a boy:
The majority of the delegates were [N]egroes, with a mere
handful of white delegates. As soon as the door of the court-
house was opened, the [Njegroes crowded in so that there was
no room for white participants. A few seats were reserved for
reporters, and I squeezed into one of these even as a boy
before I became a regular reporter, for I sent news items to the
Raleigh and Wilmington papers. Think of 500 perspiring
[N]egroes packed into a courthouse, wrangling and fighting,
on a red-hot day! It was stifling and the odors were rank.12
Daniels became editor of a local newspaper, the Wilson Advance, in
1880 and later edited the State Chronicle, a daily newspaper in Raleigh.
He sold the money-losing newspaper in 1892 and started the North
Carolinian, a weekly that was financially supported by the Democratic
party. The newspaper's readership and advertising dropped after the 1892
elections, and the following year Daniels moved to Washington, DC, and
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 39
became chief clerk in the US Department of the Interior. In 1894,
Daniels' benefactor, Julian S. Carr, arranged for a third party to acquire
the Raleigh News and Observer on Daniels' behalf,13 and Daniels took up
the editorship later that year. In doing so, Daniels was expected "to
breathe new life" into a demoralized state Democratic party,14 which in
1894 had lost power to a Republican - Populist coalition that was sup-
ported by black voters.15
As editor of the News and Observer, Daniels was soon to take a
central role in championing the white supremacy movement in North
Carolina politics — a role that journalism historians have overlooked or
sidestepped. They have instead focused on Daniels' reputation for attack-
ing railroad and tobacco trusts'6 and for advocating public support for
education.17 While they have tended not to assign great national impor-
tance to Daniels, journalism historians have praised him for building the
News and Observer "into one of the South's leading newspapers."18 Frank
Luther Mott — who called Daniels "one of the fine figures of American
journalism"19 — extolled the News and Observer as "a fearless opponent of
textile and tobacco interests of the region in certain monopolistic and
anti-labor activities."20
Sidney Kobre, who described the News and Observer as "one of the
outstanding liberal Democratic newspapers in the South,"21 noted that
Daniels had "backed a white supremacy movement." Kobre, however,
failed to explore the matter. Instead, he wrote that Daniels "advocated . . .
equal educational opportunities for Negroes in a period when they were
neglected. Pro-labor in policy, he urged better wages and shorter hours
and urged the abolition of child labor."22
"Like other decent white Southerners"
Daniels' biographer, Joseph L. Morrison, could hardly overlook
Daniels' white supremacy advocacy and his vehement rhetoric of the late
19th century. But Morrison argued that Daniels and his race-baiting
should not be judged by norms of the second half of the 20th century.
Morrison, an altogether admiring biographer, wrote:
It is difficult for today's reader to examine the White Su-
premacy Campaign files of the News and Observer, replete
with racist talk and cruel cartoons, and avoid judging Editor
Daniels by today's rules rather than in terms of the values that
he then held most dear. Like other decent white Southerners,
Daniels concluded that unless the [N]egro were removed from
politics — for he was deemed a surpassing temptation to
40 Campbell 'Fall 1999
corrupt white politicians — there could be no communal peace
or progress.23
Such views — akin to blaming blacks for the corrupt election prac-
tices of white politicians, and reminiscent of the belief that slavery had
been beneficial to blacks24 — were certainly not uncommon in the South
in the late 19th century. "The majority of Southerners," C. Vann Wood-
ward has noted, "were taught to regard disfranchisement as reform."25
But not all "decent white Southerners" endorsed the tactics that
Daniels championed. He had contemporaneous critics who placed their
careers at risk by raising their objections. Notable among them was John
Spencer Bassett, a history professor at Trinity College (now Duke Univer-
sity) in Durham, North Carolina.
In 1903, Bassett became the target of withering newspaper criti-
cism— led by Daniels and the News and Observer — for his essay criticizing
the state's white supremacy movement as dangerously expedient. "This
political agitation is awaking a demon in the South," Bassett warned in
the essay, predicting ever "fiercer" conflict between the races.26 "The duty
of brave and wise men," Bassett declared, "is to seek to infuse the spirit of
conciliation into these white leaders of white men."27 The News and
Observer excoriated Bassett as "a freak," unfit "to write of anything that
concerns the political or racial questions from the standpoint of the
Southern man."28
The White Supremacy Campaign of 1898
The white supremacy political campaign of 1 898 was the vehicle of
the Democratic Party in North Carolina to wrest control from the
coalition of Republicans and Populists which in 1894 had won nearly
two-thirds of the seats in North Carolina's General Assembly. The interra-
cial coalition, a shaky and ultimately unstable alliance which Democrats
called the "fusion," enacted among other reforms an electoral law regarded
as "perhaps the fairest and most democratic in the post-Reconstruction
South."29 The measure allowed illiterates to vote by using colored ballot
papers bearing party insignia, and limited the power of registrars to
challenge and disqualify would-be voters.30 Such measures enhanced black
participation in North Carolina politics. An estimated 87 percent of
eligible black voters cast ballots in 1896, compared to 64 percent in
1892.31 Eleven black legislators were elected to the North Carolina
General Assembly of 1897, the most since the 1880s,32 as the "fusionist"
coalition won every statewide election in 1 896.33
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 4 1
Meanwhile, the administration of President William McKinley was
appointing blacks to federal patronage positions in North Carolina,
notably postmasterships — acknowledgment of the importance of black
support in securing McKinley's nomination.34 Such appointments,
historian Joel Williamson has noted, were particularly distressing to
whites, as they meant "their womenfolk were forced to do business with
black postmasters and clerks, often enough with their political cronies
hanging about inside the post office . . . Physical contact through the
mutual handling of mails and monies was bad enough, but even more
awful was the prospect that black men in office would make all black men
assume themselves more powerful and be led to approach white women
sexually."35 In the counties of eastern North Carolina in particular,
Williamson noted, "blacks were rising and whites were horrified."36
Democrats responded to the prospect of what they termed "Negro
rule" by mounting in 1898 the first of what they called white supremacy
campaigns. The efforts were unreservedly intended — as Daniels' News and
Observer declared — "to restore permanent White Supremacy" to North
Carolina.37
The 1898 campaign was a violent affair. As one historian has
written, paramilitary units calling themselves Red Shirts and Rough
Riders "broke up fusionist political rallies, disrupted black church meetings,
whipped outspoken blacks, and drove black voters from the polls .... The
cry of '[Njegro rule' led by Josephus Daniels' Raleigh News and Observer
overwhelmed any public discussion of the economic issues involved in the
campaign."38 Daniels was little restrained in calling attention to the
specter of "Negro rule." His newspaper "led in a campaign of prejudice,
bitterness, vilification, misrepresentation, and exaggeration to influence
the emotions of the whites against the Negro."39
One especially chilling portrayal was an editorial cartoon spread
across four columns of the News and Observer in late September 1898.
The drawing, by Daniels' editorial cartoonist, Norman E. Jennett,
depicted " [Njegro rule" in the form of a huge, bat-winged figure trailing a
lizardlike tail. Looming against a dark, sterile landscape, the creature
clawed menacingly at the hapless shapes of white men and women. The
caption was "The Vampire That Hovers Over North Carolina."40
The prospect of "[N]egro rule" was, however, quite far-fetched —
more a campaign scare tactic than even a remote political possibility.
Blacks by no means dominated or controlled the state's political life; they
after all had never occupied more than 20 percent of the seats in the state
General Assembly.41 Still, Democrats "publicized evidence of '[Njegro
rule' anywhere a Republican organization existed" in North Carolina.42
42 Campbell -Fall 1999
On election day 1898, Daniels asserted in an editorial in the News
and Observer. "Do your duty today. Stand by Anglo-Saxon civilization. It
is the hope of the State, of the nation and of the world."43 Referring to the
Democrats, the editorial stated: "The White Man's Party has shown that
its opponents are responsible for [N]egro domination in a large section of
the State; that as a consequence life is insecure, womanhood is endan-
gered, property is unprotected and the law is almost a nullity as a punitive
for and a restraint upon crime."44
The Democrats swept to power in North Carolina in the 1 898
elections,45 winning two-thirds of the seats in the General Assembly.
Daniels proceeded to organize the most elaborate of the many victory
celebrations in the state. As he later wrote:
Following the white supremacy victory, there were celebra-
tions all over the state, but the big State celebration was staged
in Raleigh. A meeting was held there to arrange for the
celebration, at which I presided; and at that meeting the
motion was made to thank the News and Observer for its
leadership in the fight. I said that this ought to include all
Democratic papers, but the meeting unanimously overruled
the chair and the motion was unanimously adopted.46
Despite fears that such a gathering would be an invitation to
trouble,47 the white supremacy celebration in Raleigh went off without
violence. Daniels wrote later of the victory fete: "Shouting Democrats
came from all parts of the State, a few of them wearing red shirts,48 and
they were welcomed at the News and Observer office. Its building was
illuminated and decorated with brooms, emblematic of the sweeping
victory ... I presided at the meeting and speeches were made by distin-
guished men."49
Mob Violence in Wilmington
Fears of post-election violence were not at all farfetched in North
Carolina in the fall of 1898. Mob violence had swept the state's largest
city, the southeastern port of Wilmington, in the immediate aftermath of
the 1898 election. At least 1 1 black men, and perhaps many more,50 were
killed as a white mob in effect "declared war on black residents"51 in what
has been called "an American coup d'etat."''2
Black and white Republicans had controlled local government in
Wilmington, and tensions in the city had been stoked by the fevered
1898 election campaign,53 by "rumors of blacks arming themselves," and
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 43
by a provocative editorial in the city's African American newspaper. The
editorial impugned the moral character of white women and asserted that
some of them used the charge of rape to conceal "clandestine interracial
sexual liaisons when they were detected."54
The editorial was published in August 1898 in the Wilmington
Record, a daily newspaper founded, owned, and edited by Alexander
Manly, the son of Charles Manly, a former Whig governor of North
Carolina, and one of his former slaves.55 The editorial was a response to a
much-publicized appeal to whites by Georgia's Rebecca Latimer Felton in
1897 "to lynch a thousand black men" if necessary to protect white
women.56 White supremacists, including Daniels and the News and
Observer, seized on the editorial — portions of which were widely reprinted
in North Carolina newspapers57 — as "a sensational example of how fusion
rule promoted black impudence." Suffice it to say, one scholar has
written, "white Democrats fully exploited Manly's editorial as well as
myriad allegations of black insolence, crime, and sexual misconduct in
order to mobilize racist sentiment in North Carolina, especially in the
days preceding the election."59
The reporting in the News and Observer no doubt helped exacerbate
tensions in Wilmington. The newspaper called attention to what Daniels
later said was "the result of [Njegro control in . . . Wilmington. It de-
scribed the unbridled lawlessness and rule of incompetent officials and the
failure of an ignorant and worthless police force to protect the people. It
gave incidents of housebreaking and robbery in broad daylight and other
happenings under [Njegro domination."60 Such reporting, Daniels
maintained, "finally sealed the doom" of "fusion" politics in North
Carolina.61 (His biographer, Morrison, asserted that the "fevered journal-
ism" that characterized the News and Observers reporting "did its unwor-
thy part in paving the way for that stepchild of sensationalism, the
Wilmington race riot."62)
The News and Observer reported the violence on its front page on
November 11, 1898, beneath a headline exceptionally large for the then-
typographically staid newspaper. The headline read in part: "A Day of
Blood at Wilmington: [Njegroes Precipitate Conflict by Firing on the
Whites — Manly, the Defamer of White Womanhood, Escapes." Inten-
tionally or not, the News and Observers report from Wilmington did
make clear the provocative role of the white mob:
Yesterday, a large mass meeting of business men was held and
it was demanded of the [N]egroes to have the plant and editor
of the Daily Record, the [Njegro paper which recently printed
44 Campbell -Fall 1999
the vile slander of the white women of the State, removed
from the town by 7 o'clock this morning. The demand was
not acceded to by the [N]egroes, and at 8:30 o'clock 600
armed white citizens went to the office and proceeded to
destroy the printing material. While that was in progress, in
some unaccountable way, the building took fire and was
burned to the ground .... Incensed at this, a number of
[N]egroes assembled ... in another part of the city, and a clash
between whites and blacks ensued.63
By day's end, the Democrats had seized control of Wilmington's
municipal government, forcing the Republican-dominated board of
aldermen and mayor to resign their elected positions "virtually at gun-
point."64 Manly eluded the mob and made his way north. Other black
leaders in Wilmington were arrested and taken under armed guard to
northbound trains and banished from the city. "The citizens cheered as
they saw them going," the News and Observer reported, "for they consid-
ered their departure conducive to peace in the future . . . This is but the
beginning of a general movement to rid the town of the turbulent
[N]egroes' leaders."65
The violence in Wilmington was condemned in many newspapers in
the North, prompting the News and Observer to assail the "villifers" [sic]
of the South. "As was to be expected, the clash between the races at
Wilmington . . . has brought from a certain section of the Northern press
a flood of abuse of the South," the newspaper asserted in an editorial.
"That blood should have been shed at Wilmington none regrets more
than the white people of that town. That such a deplorable climax was
not of their seeking is evidenced by their precedent patience" under
governance by black and white Republican officeholders.66
"To garner the fruits of white supremacy"
Daniels' focus in the aftermath of the 1898 election shifted quickly
from the violence at Wilmington to the state's General Assembly, which
the Democrats now controlled. "The big duty of the Legislature of 1899,"
he later wrote, "was to garner the fruits of the white supremacy victory."67
The Democrats moved promptly to reverse the Republican - Populist
electoral reforms. The centerpiece of the Democrats' efforts was a restric-
tive suffrage amendment to the state constitution. The proposed amend-
ment called for a poll tax and a literacy test for all voters. Illiterate whites
would be enabled to vote given the provisions of a grandfather clause,
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 45
which permitted descendants of any citizen who had voted before 1867 to
register to vote by December 1, 1908.68
The suffrage amendment was debated in North Carolina against a
backdrop of similar movements across the South69 — movements that
Daniels followed closely and covered for the News and Observer. For
example, he traveled to Montgomery, Alabama, in May 1900 to report
about a conference convened by leading Southerners to examine race
issues in the region. Daniels wrote in a dispatch published under his
byline in the News and Observer, "The question of paramount importance
in Alabama among white people is the same question that troubles every
Southern State — how to be delivered from the body of death to which we
were joined by the imposition of unlimited [N]egro suffrage."70
He subsequently traveled to New Orleans to investigate Louisiana's
adoption in 1898 of a constitutional measure that curtailed black suffrage.
"In this city," Daniels wrote, "the adoption of the constitutional amend-
ment, similar to the one pending in North Carolina, resulted in reducing
the [N]egro vote from 14,177 to 1,493 . . . This fully answers the
question as to whether the amendment, if adopted in North Carolina,
would eliminate the [Njegro from politics."7' Daniels also reported from
New Orleans: "As far as this city is concerned, everybody concedes that
the amendment has done everything that was expected. There has been
no friction, no jars, no trouble, and it is acquiesced in by men of all
parties, except of course the few Radical politicians who wish to keep the
Negro as a disturbing element in politics."72
Support for Disfranchisement
The North Carolina disfranchisement measure — which, Daniels
said, "was a clear-cut issue between those who wanted to remove the great
bulk of ignorant [N]egroes from the exercise of suffrage and those who
wanted to continue them"73 — led to another virulent campaign in 1900,
which the News and Observer covered closely. Its front page regularly
featured appeals to support the disfranchisement amendment and not
infrequent reports about the threat of race-related violence.74 It regularly
reported on the fears of white women who described themselves "terrified
by prowling [N]egroes."75 One letter-writer to the News and Observer
described herself as a daughter of a Confederate solider and implored:
"Whatever may be your political views, whether you are a Democrat, or a
Republican, or a Populist, you are a white man . . . Not one of you but
scorns the taint of African blood. Not one of you but would die for the
women of your homes."76
46 Campbell -Fall 1999
Appearing in a column adjoining the woman's letter was a crude
poem that carried the headline, "Sambo on the Amendment." Its opening
stanzas were:
What's de use of kicking
Agenst de white man's rule?
Let all dem kick dat want to,
Dis nigger ain't no fool —
No sun!
De white man pays de taxes,
So let him run de mill.
He's been a doing of it
And he's gwine to do it still —
Dat he is!77
In the closing days of the 1900 campaign, the News and Observer
renewed its attack on Alexander Manly and his ill-fated newspaper in
Wilmington by republishing on its front page the text of the editorial that
had proven so incendiary in 1898. "Let every white voter before he
deposits his ballot remember the infamous language of the [N]egro
Manly," the News and Observer said in reintroducing the editorial. "No
man can live in North Carolina and print such slanders against the good
people of North Carolina, and the good people of Wilmington drove the
[N]egro out of their borders and destroyed his presses."78
Daniels urged white voters to "leave no stone unturned" in turning
out the vote for the disfranchisement amendment, which he characterized
as "the only method by which the menace of [N]egro rule can be perma-
nently removed. It is to be hoped that not only hundreds but thousands
of men of other parties will unite with the Democrats in the great struggle
to free the white voters from the peril and evil of a large Negro vote that is
always cast against those things that make for good government and
better conditions."79 On voting day, August 2, 1900, Daniels published
an editorial titled "Finally, Brethren," which asserted that ratifying the
disfranchisement amendment "will not only be best for the white man but
will be best for the thrifty [N]egro. It will do much to break down the
harsh race antagonisms and will enable the white man and the [NJegro to
live on terms of friendship, each in his own separate sphere."80
The disfranchisement amendment was approved in the referendum
by about 55,000 votes, or a margin of nearly 3-to-2.81 Daniels cheered the
outcome as signaling the restoration of a "united" Democratic party and
that, he said, represented "the realization of a long cherished dream."82
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 47
The consequences of the referendum were soon evident. Nearly all
blacks, and many poor whites, lost the vote.83 As the News and Observer
reported, the registration of black voters fell to 6,200 in 1902;84 in the
election six years before, as many as 120,000 blacks had voted.85 Indeed,
as Jeffrey Crow has written, "men of unquestioned Democratic pedigree
once more held the reins of government and would continue to do so for
many decades to come . . . Dissenting voices had been decisively silenced
and opposition to the solid South had been overwhelmingly crushed. "86
Daniels' News and Observer kept a wary eye on the periodic if feeble
challenges to black disfranchisement and reminded readers of what it
called the enduring lessons of the crusade against "[Njegro rule. "87 It also
published periodic notices on its front page, reminding white men of the
importance of paying their poll tax on time. Otherwise, the reminders
said, "YOU cannot vote."88
Daniels bridled editorially at such developments as President
Theodore Roosevelt's invitation to Booker T Washington to dine at the
White House in October 1901. About that occasion, the News and
Observer declared: "The only hope of peace and amity between the races is
in strict separation in all social life and the man who seeks to break it
down is the worst living enemy of the South and its civilization. He
commits the unpardonable crime."89
That chilling phrase — "the unpardonable crime" — was invoked90 in
the campaign in 1903 against Bassett, the Trinity College history profes-
sor whose essay in the South Atlantic Quarterly^ warned that measures
such as disfranchisement and racial segregation were aggravating racial
antipathy in the South. Bassett s essay also stated that Booker T Washington
"is a great and good man, a Christian statesman, and take him all in all
the greatest man, save General Lee, born in the South in a hundred years;
but he is not a typical Negro."92
Daniels and the News and Observer led the denunciation of Bassett,
disparaging him as "a freak" and ridiculing his characterization of Wash-
ington as "wanton and absurd [N]egro deification."93 The furor intensi-
fied94 and Bassett offered his resignation. The Trinity trustees, meeting in
special session, voted 18-7 to reject the resignation,95 saying, "Any form of
coercion of thought and private judgment is contrary to one of the
constitutional aims of Trinity College, which is 'to cherish a sincere spirit
of tolerance.'"96
Bassett, whose later work included a seminal biography of Andrew
Jackson, left Trinity in summer 1906 to accept a similar position at Smith
College in Northampton, Massachusetts. He seemed astonished that his
essay had provoked such controversy, writing several years later: "I do not
think I was responsible for the fury of 1903 . . . If the article had received
48 Campbell -Fall 1999
the treatment usually accorded such articles [in South Atlantic Quarterly],
there would have been no excitement."97
For Daniels, the Bassett essay posed an unambiguous challenge to
black disfranchisement. "The people who had won this victory at such a
great price felt that Dr. Bassett's article would have the effect of reopening
the race question," he later wrote, "and all of us were more intemperate . . .
than we would have been at any other time."98
Legacy Contradicts Reality
Every day, at the top of its editorial page, the News and Observer
publishes the following excerpt from the will of Josephus Daniels:
I advise and enjoin those who direct the paper in the tomor-
rows never to advocate any cause for personal profit or
preferment. I would wish it always to be "the tocsin" and to
devote itself to the policies of equality and justice to the
underprivileged. If the paper should at any time be the voice
of self-interest or become the spokesman of privilege or
selfishness it would be untrue to its history.
The admonition, while grandiloquent, is utterly at odds with
Daniels' race-baiting militancy in the white supremacy cause in 1898 and
1900; it ignores that the newspaper was the harsh voice of the self-
interested Democratic party in North Carolina in "eliminating" the state's
black citizens from political life by stripping them of the vote. The
admonition in Daniels' will is contradicted by his newspaper's record at
the turn of the century.
Daniels' central roles in the political campaigns of 1898 and 1900
are important elements of his record that have been largely ignored by
journalism historians. His white supremacy advocacy also has been
excused by his biographer, Morrison, who maintained that Daniels and
his rhetoric must not be judged by contemporary standards. In so argu-
ing, however, Morrison overlooks Daniels' contemporaneous critics, such
as Bassett, who warned that racial intolerance of the white supremacy
movement risked "awaking a demon in the South."99
Morrison also attempts — inaccurately — to portray Daniels as having
regretted his racial militancy. He quotes Daniels' autobiography as saying
the News and Observer had been "too cruel" in its advocacy .'00 But the
autobiography contains no unequivocal statement of regret for Daniels'
prominence or vehemence in the white supremacy campaigns. Rather, as
this study has shown, the autobiography includes many favorable recollec-
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 49
tions about that harsh period, the consequences of which endured long
after Daniels' death in 1948. Following the white supremacy campaigns,
political participation of African men and women was an "undebated
issue in North Carolina politics" until the 1950s and 1960s.'01 The events
of the late 1890s effectively "froze political thought" in the state "and kept
it from evolving for decades."102
It is hard to know just why Daniels' turn-of-the-century race-baiting
rhetoric — and his condemnation of the leading black newspaper in the
state — escaped the notice of most journalism historians. Perhaps it was
because Daniels was not a transcendent national figure in American
journalism. Perhaps it was because of his subsequent association with
progressive political figures such as Woodrow Wilson and Franklin
Roosevelt.103 Perhaps "progressive" is an entirely misleading label. As one
historian of North Carolina's white supremacy campaigns has written, "a
'progressive' was a white supremacist who favored black disfranchisement
and even minimal public support for black schools; a conservative was a
white supremacist who favored black disfranchisement but did not believe
public funds should support black schools."104
As this study makes clear, journalism historians should broaden their
assessments of Daniels to acknowledge, and consider the implications of,
his role in crusading against black suffrage. Revisiting the white su-
premacy crusades of Josephus Daniels also serves to underscore the
importance of injecting balance into the consideration of journalists who
gain prominence regionally and nationally. Historians are certainly well-
advised to proceed cautiously in anointing such prominent journalists as
"fine figures" or as champions of decency.
Endnotes
'"Negro Suffrage a Crime and Folly When Established A Sin and Disgrace if Longer Endured,"
News and Observer (28 January 1900): 12.
2See Paul Luebke, Tar Heel Politics: Myths and Realities (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina,
1990), 7.
3The News and Observers average daily circulation in 1 898 was 4,800. The newspaper was
published Tuesday-Sunday. See N. W. Ayer & Son, American Newspaper Annual (Philadelphia: N.W.
Ayer & Son, 1899), 616. Notes in Josephus Daniels' papers at the Library of Congress indicate that
the News and Observers daily circulation climbed to 5,700 in 1900 and to 7,054 in 1902. The
circulation was 1,800 in 1894 when Daniels took control of the newspaper. See untitled note,
container 683, Josephus Daniels Papers, Library of Congress. The Daniels collections at the Library
of Congress and at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, although extensive, contain little
about Daniels' editorship of the News and Observer during the period examined in this article. Many
of the newspaper's records and much of Daniels' correspondence in the late 19th and early 20th
centuries were destroyed by fire in 1913. See Joseph L. Morrison, Josephus Daniels: The Small-d
50 Campbell -Fall 1999
Democrat (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 1966), viii. Cx»
''Michael Emery and Edwin Emery, The Press and America: An Interpretative History of the Mass
Media, 8th ed. (Boston: AJlyn and Bacon, 1996), 225.
Trank Luther Mott, American journalism, A History, 1690-1960, 3d. ed. (New York: Macmillan,
1962), 576.
The second volume of Daniels' autobiography is titled Editor in Politics.
7Perhaps the most ambitious treatment of the Southern press during the 19th century includes little
discussion about the regions journalism of the 1890s. See Carl R. Osthaus, Partisans of the Southern
Press: Editorial Spokesmen of the 19th Century (Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky Press, 1994).
"Josephus Daniels, Editor in Politics (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1941), 295.
''Another was Clark Howell, who became editor of the Atlanta Constitution in 1897. See Wallace
B. Eberhard, "Clark Howell and The Atlanta Constitution," Journalism Quarterly 60 (Spring 1983):
118-122.
'"Morrison, Josephus Daniels, 47-48.
"Morrison, Josephus Daniels, 48-49, 168-170.
12Josephus Daniels, Tar Heel Editor (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1974), 175-176.
"Daniels, Editor in Politics, 86-89.
,4Morrison, /<?.>•<»»/);« Daniels, 25.
l5Luebke, Tar Heel Politics, 4.
'There was a keen partisan dimension to Daniels' opposition to trusts. On the eve of the elections
in 1902, for example, he declared in an editorial that "the trusts are pouring money into certain
counties in the State in the hope of buying the election for the Republican ticket. . . . The people of
North Carolina did not go through the fire [of the white supremacy campaigns of 1898 and 1900] to
rid the State of the Negro vote to foist a worse evil — the evil of permitting the trusts to rule it by
debauching the voters with money. That would be like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. It
would be far better to have to be governed by an ignorant race, whose rule could soon be thrown off,
than to be ruled by the trusts, which always use power to secure their further enrichment at the
expense of the people." See "Trust Money Trying To Buy The Election," News and Observer (1
November 1902): 4.
l7Emeryand Emery, The Press and America, 225.
l8Emeryand Emery, The Press and America, 225.
"Mott, American Journalism, 576.
2"Mott, American Journalism, 576.
21Sidney Kobre, Modern American Journalism (Tallahassee: Florida State University, 1959), 172.
"Kobre, Modern American Journalism, 172-173.
^Morrison, Josephus Daniels, 35.
24As Leon E Litwack noted in his study of black Southerners at the end of the 19th century and the
first years of the 20th century: "The notion that disfranchisement and segregation benefited both
races, that placing restraints on blacks actually protected them, resembled the antebellum argument
that enslavement had been the best possible condition for black people, that it had conferred
incalculable benefits on a race incapable of caring for itself." Litwack, Trouble in Mind: Black
Southerners in the Age of Jim Crow (New York: Knopf, 1998), 245.
2<iC. Vann Woodward, Origins of the New South, 1877-1913 (Louisiana State University, 1951),
348. Woodward also noted: "Disgraceful scenes of ballot-box stealing, bribery, and intimidation were
much rarer after disfranchisement. One effective means of stopping the stealing of ballots is to stop
the people from casting them. Elections are also likely to be more decorous when the electorate of the
opposition parties has been disfranchised or decimated and the election becomes a formality in a one-
party system."
2f,John Spencer Bassett, "Stirring Up the Fires of Race Antipathy," South Atlantic Quarterly 2, 4
(October 1903): 304.
27Bassett, "Stirring Up the Fires," 302, 305.
28"Stirring Up the Fires of Race Antipathy," News and Observer (1 November 1903): 16.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 51
'''Jeffrey J. Crow, "Cracking the Solid South: Populism and the Fusionist Interlude," in Lindley S.
Butler and Alan D. Watson, eds., The North Carolina Experience: An Interpretative and Documentary
History (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina, 1984): 338.
3"Crow, "Cracking the Solid South," 338.
3lCrow, "Cracking the Solid South," 338.
32Crow, "Cracking the Solid South," 338.
33H. Leon Prather, "We Have Taken a City: A Centennial Essay," in David S. Cecelski and Timothy
B. Tyson, eds. Democracy Betrayed: The Wilmington Race Riot of 1898 and Its Legacy (Chapel Hill, NC:
University of North Carolina Press, 1998), 13.
34Joel Williamson, A Rage for Order: Black/White Relations in the American South Since Emancipation
(New York: Oxford University, 1986), 128. The News and Observer railed against McKinley's
appointments, calling him "the Negroes[sic] candidate" and deploring that "many of the best places in
the Federal service in the South are now held for the first time by Negroes." See "What McKinley Has
Done for the Southern States," News and Observer (5 August 1900): 1.
"Williamson, A Rage for Order, 128-129.
3fiWilliamsonM Rage for Order, 130.
""Room for All," News and Observer (1 May 1900): 4. Rather than the prospect of "Negro rule" in
North Carolina, one labor historian has perceptively noted that it was "too much democracy, through
the fusion of Republicans and Populists, [that] set off the white supremacy campaign" of 1 898. See
Michael Honey, "Class, Race, and Power in the New South: Racial Violence and the Delusions of
White Supremacy," in Cecelski and Tyson, Democracy Betrayed, 170.
3sCrow, "Cracking the Solid South," 338. He further noted, 340: "Economic issues" such as
increased taxes on railroads arid assistance to farmers and small businessmen "were in fact at the core
of the 1898 election in North Carolina, but the campaign was not fought openly on those terms."
"Helen G. Edmonds, The Negro and Fusion Politics in North Carolina, 1894-1901. (Chapel Hill,
NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1951), 141.
4""The Vampire that Hovers over North Carolina," News and Observer (27 September 1898): 1.
Daniels said in his autobiography that "the feature in the News and Observer that was most popular"
at the time "were the cartoons drawn by Norman E. Jennett." See Daniels, Editor in Politics, 147.
4lSee Honey, "Class, Race, and Power," 170. See also Janette Thomas Greenwood, Bittersweet
Legacy: The Black and White "Better Classes"in Charlotte, 1850-1910 (Chapel Hill: University of North
Carolina Press, 1994), 187. Greenwood wrote, 190-191, that "the cries of black domination and
white supremacy" did not resonate in Charlotte as they did in the eastern part of North Carolina.
Nonetheless, "charges of black rule rang true to the Young Democrats who had rise to leadership of
the local Democratic party by the late 1890s. . . . [The] Young Democrats viewed white supremacy as
their birthright, an inheritance bequeathed to them by their fathers."
42John Haley, "Race, Rhetoric, and Revolution" in Cecelski and Tyson, Democracy Betrayed, 218.
43"Do Your Duty Today," News and Observer (8 November 1898): 4.
44"Do Your Duty Today," News and Observer, 4.
45Daniels wrote in his autobiography that the state "approached election day with nervousness and
anxiety. ... At some places in the black districts, guns were fired and the white supremacy people
surrounded the polls in great numbers. They were directed to be there early and late. In the places
where the Negro vote was large, the impression prevailed among Negroes that it was not safe for them
to make any show of resistance. Many of them did not go to the polls to vote." See Daniels, Editor in
Politics, 307.
4f,Daniels, Editor in Politics, 310.
47Daniels, Editor in Politics, 310. He wrote, "Some of the older people deprecated the holding of a
big celebration, fearing that it might result in trouble, but the News and Observer took the ground
that the celebration ought to be held and that it meant no harm to the Negroes; that the Democrats
were their friends and not enemies; and that the speeches made and the whole celebration would serve
to bring about a kindly feeling between the races."
4SDaniels later said of the practice, "In certain parts of the North Carolina the advocates of White
Supremacy wear a red shirt as the insignia of freedom from Negro domination in politics." See "Cant
Intimidate Red Shirts," News and Observer (19 July 1900), 4. Red Shirts often organized themselves
52 Campbell -Fall 1999
into paramilitary units that disrupted opposition political rallies and terrorized would-be black voters
during the white supremacy campaigns. See Crow, "Cracking the Solid South," 340.
4''Daniels, Editor in Politics, 310.
'"Estimates of the death toll in the Wilmington riot range widely, from 1 1 (which Daniels offered)
to 14, 20, and "100s." See Prather, "We Have Taken a City," 35.
"Litwack, Trouble in Mind, 313.
52See Dolores Janiewski, "'Waged with Such Fury': Wilmington as an American Coup d'Etat,"
paper presented to annual conference of the American Historical Association, Washington, DC, 8
January 1999. Daniels in his autobiography called the riot "an armed revolution of white men of
Wilmington" who sought "to teach what they believed was a needed lesson, that no such defamer as
Manly should live in the city and no such paper should be published." He also noted that his
newspaper had asserted: "'If any reader is inclined to condemn the people of Wilmington for
resolving to expel Manly from the city, let him reread the libel upon the white women of the state that
appeared in the Daily Record. " Daniels, Editor in Politics, 307-308.
"Williamson wrote, "Given the extravagance of the white supremacy campaign, it is remarkable
that the Wilmington riot occurred two days after the election rather than during the turbulent weeks
that preceded the balloting." Williamson, A Rage for Order, 132.
54Litwack, Trouble in Mind, 313. The editorial read in part: "You [whites] set yourselves down as a
lot of carping hypocrites; in fact, you cry aloud for the virtue of your women while you seek to
destroy the morality of ours. Don't ever think that your women will remain pure while you are
debauching ours. You sow the seed — the harvest will come in due time." Wilmington Record (18
August 1898), cited in Crow, "Cracking the Solid South," 349.
"Prather, "We Have Taken a City," 23-24. Prather added, 24: "For anyone not acquainted with
him, Manly could have passed for a white man."
5AQuoted in LeeAnn Whites, "Love, Hate, Rape, Lynching: Rebecca Latimer Felton and the
Gender Politics of Racial Violence," in Democracy Betrayed, 149.
57One scholar has speculated the editorial "might have escaped state-wide attention had not the
News and Observer publicized it." Edmonds, The Negro and Fusion Politics, 147
5sCrow, "Cracking the Solid South," 341.
"Richard Yarborough, "Violence, Manhood, and Black Heroism: The Wilmington Riot and Two
Turn-of-the-Century African American Novels," in Cecelski and Tyson, Democracy Betrayed, 229.
"'Daniels, Editor in Politics, 285.
slDaniels, Editor in Politics, 285.
"Morrison, Josephus Daniels, 34.
f,3"A Day of Blood at Wilmington: Negroes Precipitate Conflict by Firing on the Whites — Manly,
the Defamer of White Womanhood, Escapes — Building of His Slanderous Paper Gutted and
Burned," News and Observer (11 November 1898): 1.
MCrow, "Cracking the Solid South," 341.
^'"Democratic Regime Strangling Anarchy: Wilmington's New Government Bringing Law and
Order Out of the Chaotic Conditions Brought About by Negro Domination," News and Observer (12
November 1898): 1. The report also cited the near-lynching of a white deputy sheriff, a Republican,
who was at the railway station, attempting to leave Wilmington, when "a rope was thrown over his
head and several strong men were in the act of swinging him to an overhanging beam when
influential citizens interfered, and with difficulty prevented the lynching."
"'"Villifers [sic] of the South," Netvs and Observer (13 November 1898): 4.
"Daniels, Editor in Politics, 324.
r'sCrow, "Cracking the Solid South," 341.
^'Disfranchisement measures were approved or enacted in Mississippi in 1890, South Carolina in
1895, Louisiana in 1898, North Carolina in 1900, Alabama in 1901, Virginia in 1901-1902, and
Georgia in 1908. See Woodward, Origins of the New South, 321. Woodward also notes that
disfranchisement movements were complex and often masked struggles for political power among
whites: "The real question was which whites should be supreme." Woodward, 327-328.
7"Josephus Daniels, "The Race Problem of the South," News and Observer (8 May 1900): 1.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 53
''Josephus Daniels, "It Has Eliminated the Negro: But the Amendment in Louisiana Guarantees to
Every White Man the Right to Vote," News and Observer (10 May 1900): 1.
7:Daniels, "It Has Eliminated the Negro," 4.
7,Daniels, Editor in Politics, 326.
74See, for example, "Negroes Buying Guns and Cartridges," News and Observer (15 July 1900): 1.
The News and Observer prominently reported the New Orleans race riot in July 1900. See "Rioting
Continues in New Orleans," News and Observer (27 July 1900): 1, and "Negro Desperado Dies
Fighting," News and Observer (28 July 1900): 2.
7,"Shot into the House," News and Observer (5 May 1900): 1. Daniels in his autobiography
acknowledged that the News and Observer gave special attention to reports of ctimes by blacks.
"Whenever there was any gross crime on the part of Negroes," he later wrote, "the News and Observer
printed it in a lurid way, sometimes too lurid, in keeping with the spirit of the times." See Daniels,
Editor in Politics, 253.
7S<!A Woman's Earnest Appeal," News and Observer (22 July 1 900): 1 .
"""Sambo on the Amendment," News and Observer (22 July 1900): 1.
7s"What the Negro Manly Said," Neivs and Observer (29 July 1900): 1.
7''"Leave No Stone Unturned," News and Observer (29 July 1900): 4.
"""Finally, Brethren," News and Observer (2 August 1900): 4.
"'Cited in J. Morgan Kousser, The Shaping of Southern Politics: Suffrage Restriction and the
Establishment of the One-Party South, 1880-1910. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1974), 193.
82"A United Democracy," News and Observer (5 August 1900): 4.
R,Luebke, Tar Heel Politics, 6.
X4"A Majority of 65,876," News and Observer (4 November 1902): 1 . The newspaper estimated that
the Democrats' statewide advantage in registered voters exceeded 65,000.
"'"Registration by Whites is Heavy," News and Observer (26 October 1902): 1.
s''Crow, "Cracking the Solid South," 342. He noted: "With the effective removal of poor whites
and blacks from the political process, the planter-industrialist elite assumed the garb of reformers and
set about modernizing the state with increased government services in such areas as public health,
education, and road building. Freed of the incubus of lower-class and Negro support, the so-called
Progressive movement in North Carolina and throughout the South accelerated, but it was a
movement that tended to enhance the interests of the business community principally and to
reinforce the existing social, economic, and political order."
87See, for example, "Why Not Make It One Hundred Thousand Majority," News and Observer (2
November 1902): 4. The editorial, published on the eve of state elections in 1902, stated in part:
"The Republican method of campaign was pitched upon this idea: The Democrats, having over our
protest, disfranchised the Negro, they ought to be defeated for bringing political peace, and the
enemies of the [disfranchisement] Amendment and White Supremacy should be given power."
ss"That Poll Tax," News and Observer (25 April 1902): 1 .
"""'Will Soon Blow Over,'" News and Observer (23 October 1901): 4.
'"'"Bassett Committed the Unpardonable Sin," News and Observer (3 December 1903): 4. The
editorial read: "Once let the ideas in the Bassett article become widespread, and then the civilization
of the South is destroyed. He has committed the only unpardonable sin."
'"Bassett was the journal's founding editor. In the inaugural issue, Bassett wrote: "The editor . . .
desires to make the journal a medium of encouraging every honest literary effort. He recognizes that
to do this there must be liberty to think. He will not close the review to opinions with which he may
personally differ. . . . He will consider the Quarterly fortunate if it succeeds in presenting the
problems of to-day on all of their sides." "Editor's Announcement," South Atlantic Quarterly 1,1
(January 1902): 3.
''-'Bassett, "Stirring Up the Fires," 299.
'''"Stirring Up the Fires," News and Observer, 16.
'MSee for example, "Kindle a Flame of Indignation: The People Feel That Professor Bassett's
Utterances on the Negro are an Outage," News and Observer (3 November 1903): 1.
',5After the trustees voted, several Trinity students hanged Daniels in effigy — a protest the News
54 Campbell -Fall 1999
and Observer reported on its front page. See "Hang the Editor there in Effigy," News and Observer (3
December 1903): 1.
"'"Eighteen-Seven Thus They Voted," News and Observer (3 December 1903): 4. The trustees'
statement also read: "We are particularly unwilling to lend ourselves to any tendency to destroy or
limit academic liberty."
',7John Spencer Bassett, untitled letter to the editor [Charlotte Observer?], (1 1 June 1909); Bassett
papers, Library of Congress, general correspondence, container 19.
98Daniels, Editor in Politics, 435.
''''Bassett, "Stirring Up the Fires," 304. Bassett's essay was remarkably prescient. He wrote, 305:
"Some day the Negro will [be] a great industrial factor in the community; some day he will be united
under strong leaders of his own. In that time his struggle will not be so unequal as now. In that time,
let us hope, he will have brave and Christian leaders."
"'"Morrison, Josephus Daniels, 35.
""Luebke, Tar Heel Politics, 7.
"uPaul D. Escott, Many Excellent People: Power and Privilege in North Carolina 1850-1900 (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985), 265.
",3For a study of Daniels as a Progressive Era figure, see Larry G. Gerber, The Limits of Liberalism:
Josephus Daniels, Henry Stimson, Bernard Barnch, Donald Richberg, Felix Frankfurter and the
Development of Modern American Political Economy (New York: New York University Press, 1983). For
an appraisal of Daniels' association with Roosevelt, see Carroll Kilpatrick, ed., Roosevelt and Daniels: A
Friendship in Politics (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1952).
"l4Haley, "Race, Rhetoric, and Revolution," 216-217.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 55
Fall 1999
56
Family Pictures: Constructing the
"Typical" American in 1920s
Magazines
By Carolyn Kitch
Beginning in the 1920s — in the midst of the "Jazz Age" — mass circula-
tion magazines described a new kind of lifestyle based on shared national
values. A response to Progressive notions about gender, class, and race, this
ideal was profoundly conservative, conflating the American identity with the
suburban nuclear family. This study, a rhetorical analysis that draws on
hegemony theory, considers how two popular periodicals, The Saturday
Evening Post and Good Housekeeping, verbally and visually constructed
that family in a way that would last throughout the century.
The decade of the 1920s has been preserved in the American
collective memory as a time of reckless freedom and disillu-
sionment, an era when a "lost generation" of youth searched
for escape through jazz, liquor, and sexual freedom. Some media of the era
reinforced this characterization, supplying images of gin-swilling flappers,
frat boys in coonskin coats, and world-weary urban sophisticates.1 Yet
other media, especially mass circulation magazines, painted a very differ-
ent picture of the 1920s, describing a new kind of domesticity based on
shared, "typical" values and defined in terms of the nuclear family. At the
same time it seemed forward-looking, this picture was profoundly conser-
vative: the typical American family was white and suburban, the typical
mother was homebound, and the typical father was a corporate business-
man. What's more, their typicality depended on their income, their ability
to buy the goods that defined the modern "lifestyle."
Carolyn Kitch is an Assistant Professor of Journalism at Temple University.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 57
This article examines the initial verbal and visual articulation of 20th
century family values in two popular periodicals, The Saturday Evening
Post and Good Housekeeping, exploring the complex intersection of
shifting gender ideals and political conservatism during this era. It echoes
historian Ruth Schwartz Cowan's belief that the "feminine mystique"
(generally considered a phenomenon of the 1950s) actually dates back to
the 1920s, and broadens her argument to include fathers as well as
mothers. It contends that this earlier mystique — which was championed
in the most influential mass medium of the day, mass circulation maga-
zines— constructed an American identity and symbolically erased from
that identity citizens who did not fit the family ideal.
Shifting Cultural Ideals
This study adds to a growing body of cultural history on the role of
popular magazines in the emergence of 20th century commercial culture.
It was during the century's first three decades that media became "mass"
in a truly national sense. These were also pivotal years in the history of
gender, class, and race — a time when women's political status seemed
about to change dramatically, when massive waves of immigration
increased the country's ethnic diversity, when urbanization resulted in a
new racial mix in cities, and when a new middle income group became
the politically and economically dominant class in America.
Richard Ohmann and Matthew Schneirov have considered how
changes in America's class structure shaped, and were shaped by, popular
magazines; Jennifer Scanlon, Ellen Gruber Garvey, and Helen Damon-
Moore have analyzed the gendering of consumer culture, including
magazines, in the new century.2 This article draws on such scholarship
while assessing the interplay of these factors in shifting cultural ideals. It
also adds a new dimension to the literature by considering the
intertextuality of visual and verbal communication during this era.
Quite a few studies have examined either the editorial content or
the artwork of The Saturday Evening Post of this period, including Jan
Cohn's excellent book on its editor, George Horace Lorimer,3 as well as
works on the early years of the career of artist Norman Rockwell.4 Since
there are no major works on Good Housekeeping (aside from three books
on the cover artist discussed here, Jessie Willcox Smith3), this article
argues for the inclusion of that magazine in studies of the cultural impact
of early 20th century mass media. It further supports the contention of
Jennifer Scanlon (writing with regard to The Ladies' Home Journal) that
magazines of this era were edited for an "average" reader rather than the
full spectrum of their broad audiences. In its focus on the American
58 Kitch* Fall 1999
family, this study considers gender roles but argues that the typical family
was defined primarily in terms of class and race — in terms of what editors
and artists imagined to be the center of the US population's changing
demographics in a time of significant population growth and economic
mobility.
During the early 20th century, a new national advertising industry
financially supported mass circulation magazines in return for access to
growing audiences of consumers. Central to the success of this commer-
cial formula — to the hegemony6 of the producers of mass media as well as
mass goods — were the ambitions of an emerging American middle class
whose social and economic choices would determine how modern
business would be done. Class was a fluid concept during this era, as more
and more people thought of themselves as upwardly mobile — whether
they were immigrants hoping to assimilate or native-born Americans
hoping to improve their social and economic status.
Magazines fueled these aspirations. "Their pages were full of celebra-
tions of rich and wonderful America," explain journalism historians John
Tebbel and Mary Ellen Zuckerman. "The magazines that dealt with
success . . . boasted circulations ... in the hundreds of thousands."7
Editors' assumption that readers' identities were in flux was suggested in
the contradictory messages their magazines contained. Articles congratu-
lated readers for being similar to one another; Post editor George Horace
Lorimer even claimed that "the prime qualification of being an editor is
being an ordinary man."8 At the same time, they instructed readers in
becoming better than other people, showing them the lifestyles and
behavior of the rich and encouraging what Miles Orvell calls an "aesthetic
of imitation" that "became the foundation of middle class culture."9
Cover imagery in particular, notes art historian Susan Meyer, offered
readers "prototypes after which they could pattern themselves."10 This
paradox — the message that readers could achieve a desirable common
status while also elevating themselves — underlay the magazines' increas-
ingly conservative definition of the "typical" American of the 20th
century.
As a rhetorical analysis, this study searches for not only what was
"said" in these media, but also what (and who) was left out, as well as how
certain messages were emphasized through repetition. It further embraces
the notion that imagery as well as words can be read as a kind of language,
an "iconology" (to use E. H. Gombrich's term) in which images have
symbolic meaning that is culturally shared and historically grounded."
To combine these perspectives, this analysis considers cover art,
editorial matter, and advertisements that appeared in Good Housekeeping
and The Saturday Evening Post over a period of nearly a decade and a half.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 59
The relatively few specific examples discussed here were drawn from a
larger study of both magazines during the 1910s and 1920s.12 Rather
than using a quantitative method of content analysis, this article employs
what journalism historian Marion Marzolf called a "content assess-
ment,"13 a selection of representative14 words and images analyzed with
particular attention to their cultural and historical context.
Reshaping the American Family
In the first two decades of the 20th century, the notion of a "New
Woman" was hotly debated and widely discussed in American media. A
cultural construct that had emerged in the 1890s, the New Woman
represented real changes in women's social, educational, economic, and
political opportunities, including the entry of an increasing number of
women into higher education and the professions15 and culminating in
the achievement of suffrage with the passage of the 19th Amendment in
1920. Even so, women's life patterns remained relatively consistent.
Between 1890 and 1920, the marriage rate rose steadily, and until the
Depression, fewer than 10 percent of US wives were in the workforce.16
One thing that had changed was the set of expectations Americans
brought to the institution of marriage. The works of Freud, widely
popularized in America in 1913, had validated women's sexuality, and the
"new psychology" suggested that spouses should be emotionally as well as
sexually compatible. Marriage became, for the first time, the primary
relationship in both women's and men's lives.
The new companionate model for marriage coincided with an
increasing interest of middle class men in home life. The "domestic man"
spent time with his children and "made his wife, rather than his male
associates, his regular companion on evenings out," writes historian
Margaret Marsh.17 Yet this modern father took his sons into the outdoors,
where together they could experience the "strenuous life" that former
President Theodore Roosevelt believed was essential to the strength of the
nation's manhood— and the nation itself.18
Nature was also the backdrop for the new type of living space in
which this family made its home: the suburb.19 The factors of
corporatization (providing stable incomes for white collar men), swelling
urban populations, and advances in transportation combined to induce
white families to leave cities and move to new housing developments in
outlying areas. This trend coincided with "the emergence of residential
covenants that prohibited Jews, blacks and in the West, Asians, from
living in certain suburbs," notes Marsh.
60 Kitch* Fall 1999
For whites, the suburbs were part of a middle class vision of "mascu-
line domesticity [and] marital togetherness," Marsh explains, yet their
greater effect was the isolation of residents into families "centered around
the demands of childrearing."20 Thanks to the (limited) availability of
birth control, parents had fewer worries about overly large families, so the
children they did bear took on new status in the middle class household.
Children were treasured and coveted, "becoming almost a commodity, a
kind of consumer good that symbolized family completion and marital
success."21
Not insignificantly, all of these phenomena — companionate hetero-
sexuality, white families' flight to suburbia, and the idealization of parent-
hood— followed a decade of immigration, feminism, and labor radicalism.
During the early 1910s, urban intellectuals joined the working poor in
embracing Socialism and demonstrating for the rights of laborers. As they
and Progressive-era reformers drew public attention to the immigrant
presence in urban America, and as African Americans migrated from Jim
Crow states to find work in northern cities, some American media began
to acknowledge these parts of the population. New faces and issues
appeared in political magazines such as The Crisis, published by the
newly-formed National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People, and the Socialist publication The Masses, which portrayed and
championed the immigrant working class and radical feminists. They also
appeared in more mainstream periodicals, such as the old Life, whose
covers featured women as suffragists and as dance hall sirens.
Campaign for "Educated Motherhood"
By decade's end, however, such media images appeared less fre-
quently. The Masses became a casualty of political conservatism during
World War I. Eugenicist writers in medicine and science urged native-
born whites to marry and have children in order to balance the growing
numbers of the "lower" races arriving in northern cities from Eastern
Europe, Russia, and the American South. Membership in the National
Congress of Mothers more than tripled between 1915 and 1920, and in
1924, this organization evolved into the Parent-Teacher Association.22
Much of the new campaign for "educated motherhood"23 originated in
professions such as psychology, medicine, and media. These experts
instructed women to make motherhood their first priority and yet not to
smother their children with too much attention.24
Such mixed messages produced uncertainty that itself became a
problem to be solved by experts. Promotional material for the new Parents
magazine, launched in 1926, explained: "Many of us cringe at the
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 61
revelation of our inadequacies . . . educators, psychiatrists, writers and
social workers are turning their searchlights on Parents . . . [who] realize
that instinct and tradition are not sufficient equipment for their highly
important job. "25
It is little wonder, then, that the covers of mass circulation magazines
of the late 1910s and the 1920s depicted women and men as mothers and
fathers, and increasingly showcased children themselves. The turn to
domesticity was foreshadowed in a mid-1 9 10s paradigm shift that
occurred on the covers of both Good Housekeeping and The Saturday
Evening Post. Through the end of 1915, Good Housekeeping had featured
the cover drawings of Coles Phillips, an illustrator known for his
"fadeaway girls" — slim, stylish young women whose dress patterns melted
into the background color or design. The Post, meanwhile, had been a
display case for J. C. Leyendecker's elegant elites, haughtily beautiful
women and debonair men. But at the start of 1916, both magazines
began long-term relationships with very different illustrators who special-
ized in homey scenes of family life: Jessie Willcox Smith and Norman
Rockwell. The editorial material and advertisements that appeared inside
these periodicals underscored the cover artists' visions.
Maternity and Childhood in Good Housekeeping
When she became Good Housekeeping's primary cover artist (a
position she would hold for 17 years), Jessie Willcox Smith was already
nationally known as an illustrator of mother-and-child scenes and,
particularly, child life. Her advertising work for Ivory Soap in the 1890s
had led to assignments from Scribner's, Colliers, and Century, as well as
covers for The Ladies' Home Journal, McClure's, Collier's, and Woman's
Home Companion featuring children. Smith herself never had children or
married, yet she echoed the rhetoric of "maternalist" Progressive-era
reformers, calling marriage and motherhood "the ideal life for a
woman."26
Good Housekeeping's typical reader was indeed married and was likely
to be in her late 20s or early 30s. At the time, notes Mary Ellen
Zuckerman, audience surveys rarely reported race, "the assumption being
that readers were white." The magazine ranked highest of all major
women's titles in a 1922 study done by advertising firm J. Walter Thomp-
son that rated the quality of readership by (husband's) occupation.27
More so than some of its competitors, Good Housekeeping cautiously
embraced the women's rights movement. Though it stopped short of
supporting the drive for suffrage, it published pro-suffrage opinions,28
and after women gained the vote, the magazine encouraged its readers'
62 Kitch* Fall 1999
informed participation in the electoral process.29 It ran a regular report
from Washington by Francis Parkinson Keyes, a popular novelist and wife
of a senator, who wrote about not just the social life of the nation's capital,
but also political issues of the day.30
Even so, Good Housekeepings editorial pages centered on home care
and motherhood. Beginning in the mid-19 10s, the magazine published a
monthly advice feature called "Mothers and Children" by Mrs. Louise
Hogan. In May of 1916, Mrs. Hogan's "Mother's Day" column (referring
to the holiday declared by Congress just two years earlier) advised mothers
on how to avoid mental and physical exhaustion — not for their own sake,
but for the sake of their children.
Another such article, illustrated by Smith, provided five pages of
physicians' advice on what children should eat so they would not grow up
to be "delicate or neurotic."31 Advertisements in the magazine similarly
described mothers' duties as something akin to science, requiring special-
ized skills linked to the use of new products. An ad in a 1916 issue
explained that a child's health was "a question of food, hygiene and
exercise. The food problem is easily solved with Shredded Wheat."32
By the 1920s, motherhood was being championed in Good House-
keeping by none other than Mrs. Charles Dana Gibson, wife of the well-
known illustrator who had created some of the first visual representations
of the New Woman during the 1890s. Mrs. Gibson, then heading a
foster-child placement agency, urged readers to adopt if they were biologi-
cally unable to have children. She told the story of "a cultured, well-to-do
woman — the kind of woman about whom one says, 'She has everything
in the world'" but who in fact "was bored and lonely and purposeless."
Her husband, "a busy executive," did not want a child, but to please his
wife, he consented to adopt a daughter. The little girl charmed him and
made them a complete family. "She's just what we have wanted for years,
and we didn't know it," he exclaimed, speaking of his daughter as if she
were a well-chosen purchase.33
After January 1916, such cherished children, drawn by Jessie Willcox
Smith, romped regularly on the magazine's covers, and by the 1920s, they
were seen by a million Americans every month. This decade was a turning
point for the publication; its circulation, which had been only about
300,000 in the early teens, would reach two million in the 1930s.34 The
nearly 200 covers Smith drew for the magazine between 1917 and 1933
were a large part of the publication's editorial identity and success. Good
Housekeeping further marketed reproductions of her drawings on items
such as postcards and china. Through these collectibles — such as her
Madonna-and-Child plate series, offered by mail-order — the magazine's
idyllic cover imagery was saved and displayed in readers' homes.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 63
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Kitch»Fall 1999
"Keep that schoolgirl complexion"
The presence of children in almost all of Smith's cover illustrations
was a clear sign that the woman accompanying them was (by virtue of
having borne a child) a woman, not the carefree "flapper" girl of the Jazz
Age. Smith's women were serious, calm, self-assured, and serene, yet they
were hardly Victorian matrons. In her view, the 20th century American
mother was slim, pretty, and fashionable, a youthful woman who no
doubt followed the advice of a 1927 Palmolive Soap ad in the magazine,
which reminded readers of the need to "keep that schoolgirl complexion"
long "after school days."35 In Figure 1, for example, the apple-gathering
mother's modernity was conveyed by her knee-length pleated skirt, the
straps of her stylish shoes, her unselfconscious display of leg, and her
bobbed hair.
These covers presented not just the modern woman, but also the
new suburban mother, since many of Smith's cover scenes had outdoor
backdrops. In most images, the woman's body was angled sideways or
downward, directing the readers' eyes toward the child. On the mass-
circulation magazine cover of the 1920s, motherhood was more about the
child than the mother. In fact, many covers were of children only, usually
shown in the world of nature, such as the young siblings ice skating in
Figure 2 (in which the older sister's deferential pose imitated that of
mothers in other drawings).
Smith's subjects could be overly-idealized, but many were shown in
activities and poses that were universal. Her drawings were "so representa-
tive of the American youngster that the publication received numerous
letters from concerned mothers in all parts of the country" who thought
that Smith had somehow drawn their children, notes biographer S.
Michael Schnessel.36 Smith saved one of these, sent in 1926 by a Massa-
chusetts mother who wrote, "I was very much thrilled on seeing the
November cover of Good Housekeeping, to find that my two darling
children were portrayed thereon . . . Where and when did you see the
children?"37
The fact that Smith drew primarily toddlers increased her subjects'
typicality: they were cherubs rather than little people with individuality.
Her favorite cover subject was Everychild. The same device was employed,
in art and articles, by the era's top-circulation magazine, The Saturday
Evening Post.
Domestic Manhood in "Americas Family Magazine"
Though Norman Rockwell is now best remembered for his Post
covers of the mid-20th century, his affiliation with the magazine and his
signature family scenes date to 1916. Like Smith, Rockwell (already a
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 65
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Kitch-Fall 1999
contributor to Boys' Life and Youths Companion*1*) preferred drawing
children, who were the subjects of 90 percent of his Post covers between
1916 and 1919 and half of all his covers for that magazine during the
1920s.39
Christopher Finch notes that the artist's characters — "the protago-
nists of his little dramas," which centered on "the small crises of everyday
life" — were "familiar icons." Moreover, "all the images seem[ed] somehow
connected. They belong[ed] to the same world."40 Yet the artist's scenarios
only seemed familiar; in post-war America, Rockwell's world was in fact a
Utopian construction, what the artist himself described as "life as I would
like it to be."41 Rockwell's hopes coincided with those of Post editor
George Horace Lorimer, who made content suggestions for many of
Rockwell's covers.42
Initially edited for men, the Post became a "family magazine" during
the 1910s. Lorimer still imagined his primary readers as "the ambitious
young men of the great middle class American public" but thought of his
broader audience as "the whole of American mainstream society."43 His
editorials honored "the desire of every man to be the architect of his own
fortunes." He assured readers that "there is still room at the top, or pretty
near the top, for literally millions of men and women who possess the
requisite industry, good judgment, frugality, knowledge of human nature,
persistence, intelligence and integrity." Such a person would inevitably
succeed, "no matter how humble his beginning," he wrote in a 1920 issue
of his five-cent magazine.44
The notion of the reader as "ambitious" was central to the Post's
editorial identity in this era, and upward mobility was frequently dis-
cussed in terms of family life. A 1923 ad showed two little girls and
proclaimed, "In 10 years, Mother, one of these children will be enjoying
social advantages which the other can never hope to attain." The ad copy,
which promoted a series of phonograph records, played to middle class
class anxieties and ambitions: "home musical training is all-important,
inviting that subtle advantage of personality which enables some persons
to advance so much further, in the keen struggle of life .... [to] take their
places, without embarrassment, among people of broad culture."45
In editorials, in ads, and in the Horatio-Alger-like profiles common
in the Post, the magazine attempted to engender "a sense of nationalism
strong enough to override America's regional differences"46 — a seemingly
classless society united by a "typical" family ideal. In keeping with this
mission, writes Post historian Starkey Flythe, Jr., Rockwell's cover scenes
"made America home, a comfortable sort of place where Main Street and
Fifth Avenue exist in an easy truce and the great and the small have equal-
sized emotions, pleasures and pains."47
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 67
This vision reached a readership of more than two million at the
decade's start and nearly three million at its end.48 Yet even an audience
this huge was not, in fact, classless. The Curtis Publishing Company,
which owned the Post, required its subscription salesmen to work accord-
ing to "control maps" that identified "the better residential areas," and the
company expressly forbade them to visit black and immigrant neighbor-
hoods.
The magazine's circulation growth in the 1920s thus represented the
middle class white families advertisers wanted most to reach, and by
1926, annual advertising revenue passed $50 million.49 Weekly issues ran
over 200 pages and included political commentary, humor, romantic
fiction, and instruction — something for every member of the family.50
And every member of the family appeared on Rockwell's covers.
Rockwell drew female figures quite differently than had his main
predecessors in magazine illustration, artists such as Charles Dana Gibson,
Harrison Fisher, and Howard Chandler Christy, who specialized in
glamorous young debutantes. "I paint the kind of girls your mother
would want you to marry," Rockwell himself noted.51 His cover women
were mothers themselves — though not Smith's modern madonnas. In
Rockwell's world, the mother was often the smothering figure experts
warned about, something to be resisted by the child, who was usually a
boy. The curator of one Rockwell collection noted this theme in a 1918
Post cover depicting a boy's first professional haircut, a scene in which the
artist "enable [d] the observer to see the boy's glee at his shearing, suggest-
ing that his life ha[d] moved on a niche, leaving his mother behind while
he enter [ed] the world of men, symbolized by the debonair barber."52
Search for Masculinity
The American boy's search for masculinity was a common thread in
the artist's work. While a well-groomed barber embodied one version of
that ideal, Rockwell's art even more often emphasized "a youthful mascu-
linity constructed around physical prowess," notes scholar Eric Segal.53
The frowning boy in Figure 3 suffered the taunts of his athletic friends
not only because of his own "debonair" appearance, but also because he
was saddled with the unwanted femininity of a lace-capped baby sister.
("The best part of the gag was the baby's bottle in the boy's pocket,"
Rockwell later recalled. "I received lots of letters about his humilia-
tion."54)
In this era, such images had as much to do with adults as with
children. Rockwell's depiction of boyhood was only one example of a
preoccupation with masculinity in the larger culture. His boy athletes
68 Kitch* Fall 1999
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Fall 1999 • American Journalism
69
were visualizations of the strenuous life to be led by boys outdoors, away
from the corrupting influences of the city and the feminizing influence of
women. Psychologists saw rugged boyhood as the solution to diminished
white manhood, convinced that "it was the innate primitive savagery of
young boys that could point the way to the resolution of the crisis of
masculinity" and that adult males "should learn to be more like boys and
less like overcivilized men," writes historian Michael Kimmel. In this
view, "the savage child could be father to the man and reinstill manly
beh
avior
"55
Rockwells Post covers of the early 1920s confirmed this desire for
masculine transformation while also poking fun at it. His football players
appeared stunned at the moment of tackle; a scrawny pre-adoloscent lifted
dumbbells beneath a poster of a circus strongman. Yet these boys inevita-
bly matured into men, and despite their childhood chagrin at babysitting,
they eventually married and raised families of their own. Rockwell drew
fathers not in the world of business, but in the domestic world of their
families. This setting, and the notion that it was natural for men, was
repeated verbally and visually inside the magazine.
Though he was still Lorimer's ideal businessman, the modern father
portrayed in the Post made the most of weekends and vacations and found
much of his identity in his family. This man appeared in Post articles and
even in advertisements. One 1923 ad (Figure 4) showed a suited man
leaning back in a rocking chair and holding a bowl of soapy water from
which a young boy, seated on his knees, blew bubbles; the discarded
newspaper at his feet was turned to the comic strip "Bringing Up Father."
The copy proclaimed Palm Beach Suits the perfect attire for "A Summer
Sunday morning when you drop your paper for a romp on the porch with
the kids; during a heat-prophesying and heat-generating sermon; [or] a
week-day business engagement in a stuffy office . . ."56
In the new suburban domestic ideal of the 1920s, Americans were
organized into family units that negotiated the world together and
symbolized American progress through clean living. Rockwell drew them
eating and relaxing at home, fishing and playing sports in the outdoors;
though they might look exhausted by a summer vacation (on one late-
summer cover, literally collapsed together), he would pile them right back
into their automobiles to go out and explore life anew. On Post covers, the
family became a single image of the good life in America.
Inventing Middle America
"People like to think that Rockwell painted Middle America," notes
art scholar Tom Sgouros. "The truth is, Norman Rockwell invented
70 Kitch* Fall 1999
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71
Middle America."57 So did Jessie Willcox Smith with her modernized
mother-and-child tableaux on the covers of Good Housekeeping, and so too
did the writers, editors, and advertising copywriters whose visions filled
the pages of popular magazines in the 1920s.
This world was not merely prescriptive. The magazines' focus on
domesticity was rooted in broader developments that had to do with new
views of urban and pastoral life and changing ideas about masculinity,
femininity, marriage, and childhood in the new century. Yet it also was
rooted in — and in turn fostered — the country's shift toward political
conservativism and economic consumerism, the emergence of a society
defined in terms of an ideal lifestyle to which all readers could (and
should) aspire.
The typical family, a concept that became conflated with American-
ism itself, left out the kinds of people — people of color, the working class
and poor, working women, political radicals — whose presence had been
more noticeable in public life and popular culture of the early 1910s. The
soaring circulations of both magazines in the 1920s suggested that such a
vision resonated among white, middle class citizens, whose consent had
indeed been won in a hegemonic political and commercial process.
This picture of a "new family," transmitted to millions of Americans
on a weekly and monthly basis, signaled a post-Progressive and postwar
return to "normalcy" even while it defined what was normal. Though cast
as modern and up-to-date, the new family of the 20th century was
actually the old family of the 19th century: patriarchal, child-centered,
insulated, and exclusive.
Media producers have continued to describe American life in terms
of an average family, following a model that was set in place three decades
before the better-recognized media celebration of mid-century suburban
domesticity. Mass-circulation periodicals of the 1 920s created a "mys-
tique" that was a backlash against political currents of the century's early
years, that would re-emerge following the Depression and World War
II — and that would surface yet again in the 1980s, after two decades of
activism centering on race, gender and poverty issues.
At century's end, even as diversity is widely discussed in popular
media, the representational American ideal remains quite similar to 1920s
imagery: a suburban, nuclear family which is most often white and
middle class. By defining this modern family, magazines such as The
Saturday Evening Post and Good Housekeeping created a media icon with
political and commercial currency that will last well into the 21st century.
72 Kitch* Fall 1999
Endnotes
'See, for instance, the old Life, The New Republic, and, at the end of the 1920s, The New Yorker.
-Richard Ohmann, Selling Culture: Magazines, Markets, and Class at the Turn of the Century
(London and New York: Verso, 1996); Matthew Schneirov, The Dream of a New Social Order: Popular
Magazines in America 1893-1914 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1994); Jennifer Scanlon,
Inarticulate Longings: The Ladies' Home Journal, Gender, and the Promises of Consumer Culture
(London and New York: Routledge, 1995); Ellen Gruber Garvey, The Adman in the Parlor: Magazines
and the Gendering of Consumer Culture, 1880s to 1910s (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996);
and Helen Damon-Moore, Magazines for the Millions: Gender and Commerce in The Ladies' Home
Journal andT\\e Saturday Evening Post, 1880-1910 (Albany: State University of New York Press,
1994).
3Jan Cohn, Creating America: George Horace Lorimer and the Saturday Evening Post (Pittsburgh:
University of Pittsburgh Press, 1989).
''These works include Rockwell's autobiography, My Adventures as an Illustrator (New York: Harry
N. Abrams, 1988), as well as biographies and collections of his work: Laurie Norton Moffat, Norman
Rockwell: A Definitive Catalog (Stockbridge, MA: The Norman Rockwell Museum at Stockbridge,
1 986); Thomas S. Buechner, Norman Rockwell: A Sixty Year Retrospective (New York: Harry N.
Abrams, 1 972); Donald Walton, A Rockwell Portrait: An Intimate Biography (Kansas City: Sheed
Andrews and McMeel, 1978); Norman Rockwell and The Saturday Evening Post (1916-1928)
(Philadelphia: Rittenhouse Press, 1976); Robin Langley Sommer, ed., Norman Rockwell: A Classic
Treasury (London: Bison Books, 1993); Christopher Finch, Norman Rockwell: 322 Magazine Covers
(New York: Abbeville Press, 1979); Starkey Flythe, Jr., ed., The Saturday Evening Post Norman
Rockwell Book (New Yotk: Bonanza Books, 1986); and Arthur L. Guptill, Norman Rockwell, Illustrator
(New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 1946).
5S. Michael Schnessel, Jessie Willcox Smith (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1977); Gene Mitchell,
The Subject Was Children: The Art of Jessie Willcox Smith (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1979); and Edward
D. Nudelman./cM/V Willcox Smith: A Bibliography (Gretna: Pelican Publishing, 1989). The first two
are essentially coffee-table books, not works of critical scholarship.
'The concept of hegemony — first articulated by Italian political theorist Antonio Gramsci — is used
here not as a synonym for dominance, but as a way of describing the relationship that exists between
leaders and followers, or, in a commercial power structure, producers and consumers. Gramsci refined
Marxist theory by contending that the consent of a populace is not enforced by some monolithic
power; rather, the acceptance of certain ideas and conditions seems to be a choice freely made by a
majority of people {Selections from Prison Notebooks, trans. Quintin Hoare and Geoffrey Nowell-Smith
[London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1971], 80, 182).
7John Tebbel and Mary Ellen Zuckerman, The Magazine in America, 1741-1990 (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1991), 76.
"George Horace Lorimer, quoted in Amy Janello and Brennon Jones, The American Magazine (New
York: Harry N. Abrams, 1991), 62.
''Miles Orvell, The Real Thing: Imitation and Authenticity in American Culture, 1880-1940 (Chapel
Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1989), 49-50.
'"Susan E. Meyer, Norman Rockwell's People (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1981), 20.
1 'This approach is based on the theoretical groundwork of visual theorists Erwin Panofsky and E.
H. Gombrich, the latter of whom maintained that imagery "cannot be divorced from its purpose and
requirements of the society in which the given visual language gains currency" — in other words, from
its social, economic, and historical context (Erwin Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts [Garden City,
NY: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1955]; E. H. Gombrich, Art and Illusion: A Study in the Psychology of
Pictorial Representation [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1960], 9, 90).
l2Carolyn L. Kirch, "The Girl on the Magazine Cover: Gender, Class, and the Emergence of Visual
Stereotypes in American Mass Media, 1895-1930," (Ph. D. diss., Temple University, 1998).
13Marion Marzolf, "American Studies — Ideas for Media Historians?" Journalism History 5, no. 1
(Spring 1978), 15.
I4I have necessarily selected only a few examples of a vast amount of material. Yet my characteriza-
tion of "representative" editorial and artwork from these magazines during this era is confirmed in
other studies of this work, including Cohn, Creating America; Moffat, Norman Rockwell; Schnessel,
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 73
Jessie Willcox Smith; and Mitchell, The Subject Was Children.
1 'Women comprised 35 percent of all college students in 1890 and nearly half in 1920; the
percentage of professionals who were female rose from 35 to 44 percent between 1900 and 1920
(Nancy F. Cott, The Grounding of Modern Feminism [New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1987],
148, 350n4).
"'Elaine Tyler May, Great Expectations: Marriage and Divorce in Post- Victorian America (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1980), 117, 167.
l7Margaret Marsh, Suburban Lives (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1990), 76.
"Theodore Roosevelt, "The Strenuous Life," in The Strenuous Life: Essays and Addresses (New York:
The Century Co., 1901), 1-21.
'''While this retreat of middle-class whites from the city did not occur on a significant scale until
the early 20th century, the concept of the suburb — and the word itself — existed in American culture
as early as 1870 (Marsh, Suburban Lives, 192nl6).
2"Marsh, Suburban Lives, 69, 129, 184.
^'Margaret Marsh and Wanda Ronner, The Empty Cradle: Infertility in America from Colonial Times
to the Present (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996), 1 12-1 13.
"'Molly Ladd-Taylor, Mother-Work: Women, Child Welfare, and the State, 1890-1930 (Urbana and
Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1994), 44.
23 1 am borrowing this term from Sheila M. Rothman, Woman's Proper Place: A History of Changing
Ideals and Practices, 1870 to the Present (New York: Basic Books, 1978), 177.
24Nancy F. Cott, Introduction, Root of Bitterness: Documents of the Social History of American
Women, ed. Nancy F. Cott (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1972); Rothman, Woman's Proper Place, 211.
"Quoted in Cott, The Grounding of Modern Feminism, 170.
2ftSmith also illustrated several well-known children's books. For more on her background, see:
Schnessel, Jessie Willcox Smith; Mitchell, The Subject Was Children; Nudelman, Jessie Willcox Smith;
Catherine Connell Stryker, "The Studios at Cogslea," February 20-28, 1976 (Wilmington: Delaware
Museum of Art, 1976); "Jessie Willcox Smith," Good Housekeeping (October 1917), 190-191; Patricia
Likos, "The Ladies of the Red Rose," The Feminist Art Journal 5 (Fall 1976), 11-15, 43; and Christine
Jones Huber, "The Pennsylvania Academy and Its Women, 1850 to 1920," 3 May -16 June 1973
(Philadelphia: Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, 1974). The quote is from Stryker, "The
Studios at Cogslea," 12.
27Mary Ellen Zuckerman, A History of Popular Women's Magazines in the United States, 1792-1995
(Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1998), 133; J. Walter Thompson, "Analysis of the Subscription
Circulation of 44 Magazines" (1922), quoted in Zuckerman, 134.
28One reason may have been the fact that Anna Kelton Wiley — wife of Dr. John Wiley, the director
of the Good Housekeeping Institute — was a member of the militant Woman's Party. In February
1918, the magazine published her views in "Why We Picketed the White House" (beginning with an
italicized disclaimer that " Good Housekeeping does not believe in picketing the White House") (29,
124-125).
2Tor instance, Elizabeth Frazer, "Say It with Ballots," Good Housekeeping 74 (June 1922), 27-28,
186, 189-190.
3"In 1923, Mrs. Keyes covered the International Women's Suffrage Alliance meeting in Rome for
the magazine (Frank Luther Mott, A Histoiy of American MagazinesV [1905-1930] [Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1968], 134).
"Mrs. Louise Hogan, "Mothers and Children," Good Housekeeping (March 1916), 321-325.
"Advertisement, Good Housekeeping (February 1916), 13.
33Mrs. Charles Dana Gibson, "When a Child Adopts You," Good Housekeeping 85 (July 1927), 79,
133-134, 136, 139.
34Mott, A History of American MagazinesV, 133, 136.
"Advertisement, Good Housekeeping (November 1927), n. p., in the Alice Marshall Collection,
Penn State Harrisburg (Harrisburg, PA).
,f,Schnessel,/«w Willcox Smith, 124.
37Constance Bell Pearson, Beverly, MA, to Jessie Willcox Smith, c/o Good Housekeeping, d. October
74 Kitch- Fall 1999
28, 1926, Jessie Willcox Smith papers, Archives of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
(Philadelphia, PA).
-'"At the start of his career, Rockwell's work also appeared in American Boy, St. Nicholas, American
Farm and Fireside, Literary Digest, Life, Judge, Leslie's Weekly, the American Magazine, and Collier's.
39Buechner, Norman Rockwell: A Sixty Year Retrospective, 52.
4"Finch, Norman Rockwell: 322 Magazine Covers, 8-11.
4 'Rockwell, My Adventures as an Illustrator, 34.
42Laurie Norton Moffat, "Norman Rockwell: Illustrator of America's Heritage," American History
Illustrated 21, no. 8 (December 1986), 27.
43Mott, A History of American Magazines IV (1885-1905), 688; Damon-Moore, Magazines for the
Millions, 154.
44George Horace Lorimer, "Is Success Personal?" The Saturday Evening Post (April 10, 1920), 30.
45Advertisement, The Saturday Evening Post (January 20, 1923), 86-87.
4''Jan Cohn, Covers <?/The Saturday Evening Post: Seventy Years of Outstanding Illustration from
America's Favorite Magazine (New York: Viking, 1995), 2.
H7Flythe, Foreword, The Saturday Evening Post Norman Rockwell Book, vii.
4SMott, A History of American Magazines IV, 696.
"''A Study of City Markets, 1928-1929 (Philadelphia: Curtis Publishing Company, 1930), 1, quoted
in Zuckerman, A History of Popular Women's Magazines in the United States, 132; Mott, A History of
American Magazines IV, 696.
5"Cohn, Creating America, 165.
''Rockwell, My Adventures as an Illustrator, 34.
52This interpretation is from Norman Rockwell and The Saturday Evening Post (1916-1928), 27 '.
53Eric J. Segal, "Norman Rockwell and the Fashioning of American Masculinity," Art Bulletin 78,
no. 4 (December 1996), 637. In his study of the artist's work during the 1910s and 1920s, Segal
divides the era's "competing versions of white, middle-class American masculinity" into "sartorial
masculinity that [was] based on fashion and taste" and "corporal masculinity," a matter of "bodily
fortitude" (633).
54Quoted in Guptill, Norman Rockwell, Illustrator, 152.
"Michael Kimmel, Manhood in America: A Cultural History (New York: The Free Press, 1996), 164.
Kimmel is referring to claims first made in psychologist G. Stanley Hall's 1904 landmark study
Adolescence: Its Psychology and Its Relations to Physiology, Anthropology Sociology, Sex, Crime, Religion
and Education, 2 vols. (New York: Appleton, 1904). The outdoor ideal was manifested in organiza-
tions such as the new Boy Scouts of America, whose annual calendar Rockwell illustrated for 53 years.
"Advertisement, The Saturday Evening Post (19 May 1923), 94-95.
57Quoted in Verlyn Klinkenborg, "Pyle and Rockwell — Totally American, Yet Not at All Alike,"
Smithsonian 25, no. 4 (1994), 93.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 75
Fall 1999
76
Conserving Racial Segregation in
1954: Brown v. Board of Education
and the Mississippi Daily Press
By Susan Weill
Every issue of the 20 daily Mississippi newspapers published in May
1954, when the Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision
mandated racial integration of public schools, and August 1954, the month
before school was to begin that year, was analyzed for this study. From 1,200
issues of the microfilmed newspapers, 62 editorials and 353 news articles and
headlines, findings show that the consensus among editors of the Mississippi
daily press regarding Brown was (1) Mississippians, black and white, were not
ready for the reality of a racially integrated society, and (2) national civil
rights laws supplanted stateis and individual rights. According to the vast
majority of the Mississippi daily press editorials examined, the notion that
blacks and whites were equal as races of people was a concept that remained
unacceptable and inconceivable. The study also found, contrary to what media
critics have reported about the promotion of violence to suppress civil rights
activity in the Southern press, that Mississippi daily newspapers never encour-
aged or condoned violence during the time period studied.
"We shall resist by every legal means at our command"
— Mississippi Governor Hugh White. '
An agricultural economy, a socially conservative white mentality, and
a large black underclass defined Mississippi in the 1950s. The state was
largely rural, the capital city of Jackson was the only actual metropolitan
Susan Weill is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Communication Studies at the
University of Alabama at Birmingham.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 77
area, and the racial composition was unique to the country. In no other
state did blacks constitute such a large percentage of the population as
they did in Mississippi, where for more than a century they had, as the
descendants of slaves, comprised a majority. In 1954, the lack of educa-
tion, denial of involvement in the political process, and burden of poverty
hung over them in the dark cloud of second class citizenship.2
When the United States Supreme Court declared racially segregated
public schools unconstitutional with Brown v. Board of Education in
1954 — a mandate considered "a sort of second emancipation proclama-
tion" 3 — the court's 1896 "separate but equal" Plessy v. Ferguson ruling had
been the law of the land for more than half a century. An end to public
school segregation had become a goal of the National Association for the
Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) because in 17 Southern states
black and white students attended segregated schools that were definitely
separate, but certainly not equal.4 As Mississippi historian Neil McMillen
observed, "Throughout the Jim Crow era, the single greatest impediment
to better Afro-American schools was white fear of the revolutionary and
economic implications of educating a subservient workforce."5
Plessy v. Ferguson had been ignored in Mississippi. In 1950, black
students constituted nearly 60 percent of the public school pupils in
Mississippi, but they received only 20 percent of public school funds.6
Salaries for black teachers averaged $1,109, compared to $1,991 for white
teachers (the US average was $3,605 ).7 Most of Mississippi's black
schools in 1954 were situated in privately-owned buildings, such as black
churches, and consequently not eligible for public funding for repairs or
improvement. Most of them had no water supply. One school official
thought them "unfit even for cotton storage," while another described
them as "hardly better than cattle sheds."8
For the Mississippi press, as well as the Southern and national press,
the social and cultural repercussions of civil rights mandates which
threatened the status quo, such as Brown, were one of the ongoing sagas
of the 1950s.9 Whether American newspapers have ever done a sufficient
job of reporting social challenges has been the object of debate for more
than a century. The Southern press has often been the target of scorn in
this regard, and the Mississippi press has been viewed with particular
disdain.10
Mississippi press reaction to the civil rights movement has not been
studied extensively, although several researchers have addressed the
issue. ' ' The purpose of this particular study, therefore, is to evaluate
coverage of Brown v. Board of Education by the Mississippi daily press and
to explore the manner in which those newspapers fought to preserve the
traditional Southern way of life, in May 1954, when the decision was
78 Weill -Fall 1999
handed down, and in August 1954, when the 1954-55 school year began.
The Mississippi press declared the Brown decision an unconstitutional
and illegal action of the United States Supreme Court, an assault on
states' rights that threatened the fabric of Mississippi society, and an
affront to both blacks and whites — all of whom preferred, according to
the editors, racial segregation.
The Mississippi newspapers included are: Clarksdale Press Register,
Columbus Commercial Dispatch, Corinth Daily Corinthian, Greenville
Delta Democrat-Times, Greenwood Commonwealth, Greenwood Morning
Star, Grenada Sentinel-Star, Gulfport Daily Herald, Hattiesburg American,
Jackson Clarion-Ledger, Jackson Daily News, Laurel Leader- Call, McComb
Enterprise-Journal, Meridian Star, Natchez Democrat, Natchez Times,
Tupelo Daily Journal, Vicksburg Herald, Vicksburg Evening Post and the
West Point Times Leader.
Few Brown Editorials
Wire service news stories announced the Brown v. Board of Education
decision as front page news in all 20 Mississippi daily newspapers,12 but
the editors responded in 1954 to Brown with less than half the editorial
opinions with which they had addressed the Dixiecrat protest of President
Harry Truman's civil rights re-election platform six years earlier in 1948.'3
Perhaps words seemed futile against a Supreme Court decision. Or
possibly, the lack of more editorial opinions regarding Brown was that the
editors knew Plessy v. Ferguson had not been enforced for 50 years, and
Brown may have been viewed as simply another token attempt at change.
The number of blacks in the communities served by the Mississippi
daily newspapers in 1954, with percentages that ranged from 14 to 72,
seemed to have no impact on editorial opinion regarding Brown. In
Clarksdale, where the Coahoma County black population was the highest
in the state at 72 percent,14 editor Joseph Ellis, Jr., published a syndicated
column by James Marlow denouncing the court order as a violation of the
Plessy v. Ferguson mandate.15 In Corinth, on the other hand, where Alcorn
County's black population was the smallest represented in this study at 14
percent,16 the Daily Corinthian also utilized Marlow's opinion.17
The editorial protest to Brown was supported by most of the
Mississippi daily press. In Columbus, the Lowndes County population
was 48 percent black in 1954,18 and editor Birney Imes mentioned
Brown only twice in his opinion columns. He observed without explana-
tion in one front page editorial, "I think the Supreme Court decision was
born a hundred years too soon."19 An understanding of what Imes meant
might be to note that he lowercased the word Negro in his text, which
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 79
was often done to imply inferiority. The headline to the AP story an-
nouncing the decision in the Columbus Commercial Dispatch proposed an
alternative to those opposed to Brown, "Abolish Public School System
Declares Sillers."20 Walter Sillers was the Speaker of the Mississippi House
of Representatives in 1954.
West of Columbus toward the Mississippi River, the Greenwood
Commonwealth and the Greenwood Morning Star served a small Delta
town that would become the site of the national office of the Student
Nonviolent Coordinating Committee during Freedom Summer in 1964.
The Leflore County population in 1954 was 68 percent black,21 and
editor Tom Shepherd of the Greenwood Commonwealth published only
one opinion pertaining to Brown: "Abolition of segregation required by
the recent Supreme Court decision would not of itself remove the defi-
ciencies in our schools [lack of books, equipment]. It would simply mean,
under present conditions, that some negro [sic] children would go to
better schools and some white children would go to worse."22
Across town, editor Virgil Adams of the Greenwood Morning Star
viewed Brown as inevitable and the consequences of the decision detri-
mental to both blacks and whites. The day after the decision, Adams
voiced his fears and pleaded for calm until a "solution" could be found:
"Unless advocates of segregation in the South come up with some new
angle to the laws regarding segregation, it is only a matter of months, or
perhaps a year, until enforcement of the new ruling will be put into effect.
This means that the South must adjust itself for the impact of the mixing
of the races in at least part of the schools. We fully expect there will be a
greater inter-marriage of the races and some other evil effects which are
not good for either race."23
The next day, Adams complained that the high court had over-
stepped its intended purpose of interpreting laws and had cast itself as a
maker of laws with Brown.24 In August, Adams tried to explain his
support of segregation, "It is not prejudice, but a measure which has
proven itself best for both races."25
East of Greenwood in Grenada, where the last school desegregation
riot of record in Mississippi took place in 1966,26 the Grenada County
population was 52 percent black,27 and editor M.M. Grimes of the
Sentinel-Star offered no editorial comment in May 1954 regarding Brown.
He did cover the decision in front page news articles from UP and AP
throughout the month, however headlines emphasized ways to avoid
segregation and questioned the constitutionality of the decision.28
On the Mississippi Gulf Coast, the Gulfport Daily Herald was edited
in 1954 by Eugene Wilkes, whose father George had founded the newspa-
per in 1884. The Coast had been settled by immigrants from many
80
countries, including Lebanon, Yugoslavia and Italy, and because of the
ethnic diversity of its population, the area has long held a reputation as
the most politically tolerant area of the state.29 The population on the
Gulf Coast was about 20 percent black in 1954,30 and Wilkes offered a
single editorial opinion pertaining to Brown: "In spite of the historic
background embodied in the word segregation, we feel the Negro and the
white desire to go right ahead in shaping the schools of the South into the
best in the United States for each race to use as its own."31
In Forrest County, where the population was 28 percent black in
1954,32 Hattiesburg American editor Andrews Harmon attempted to
convince his readers that it was in the best interests of everyone, black and
white, to keep the schools racially segregated: "The truth is that 98
percent of the Negroes in the South do not want to attend schools with
white people. One of the South's great crises can be lessened if the honest,
faithful Negroes resist efforts by outside agitators."33
Harmon made no reference to where he acquired his information
about what blacks did, or did not, want, but his pronouncement that
most desired segregated schools was certainly contrary to what the
NAACP reported.34 In August that summer, before schools opened for
the 1954-1955 school year, Harmon encouraged his readers to act on
their beliefs: "If all the people of Mississippi want to retain racial segrega-
tion in the public schools, they can do it simply by standing together. No
power on earth can compel more than a million people to do something
that is against the law of God and nature."35
North into the Piney Woods in Laurel, where the Jones County
population was 26 percent black,36 editor Harriet Gibbons of the Laurel
Leader-Call was the only woman editor of a Mississippi daily newspaper
in 1954. She published a single editorial regarding Brown and her focus
was to praise the state's leaders for their restraint and discretion: "Nothing
is gained by politicians taking this subject as an opportunity for inflaming
passion and arousing prejudice."37
Defending the "Anglo-Saxon Way of Life"
Northeast from Laurel in Meridian, Lauderdale County was 36
percent black in 1954.38 James H. Skewes, a Wisconsin newspaperman,
had purchased the Meridian Star in 1922 and was firmly at the helm until
1958.39 Skewes had no qualms about making his editorial opinions
known, and although his prose was sometimes difficult to comprehend
because of his erratic writing style, his ideas came across loud and clear.
There was no uncertainty that strides toward civil rights were viewed in
an almost paranoid manner by Skewes, as stated in the editorial banner,
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 81
"We Rise to Defend Our Anglo-Saxon Way of Life."40 Skewes' staunch
Southern conservatism was played out in his editorial pages, although he
penned only two editorials regarding Brown. Two days after the 1954
decision, the Meridian Star published Skewes' opinion, "We violently
disagree with Supreme Court school segregation politics and we shall by
all expedience persevere our Mid-South heritage."41
Ten days later, however, Skewes requested that the Supreme Court
give the South enough time to adjust to the new law and actually sug-
gested that the region was willing to consider abiding by the mandate.
"Most Southerners accept high court ruling with good grace based on
provision [that] court offers time aplenty wherein to work out the situa-
tion," Skewes wrote. "Change-over may require decade or less, or even
more." 42
Toward the Mississippi River in McComb, where the Pike County
population was 44 percent black,43 editor Oliver Emmerich defended the
traditional South but called for his community to remain calm in the face
of Brown. Emmerich was an award-winning editorial writer who pub-
lished and edited the McComb Enterprise-Journal from 1924 until his
death in 1978. He was also a traditional states' rights Southerner who was
often thought to hold the moderate ground on the racial issue,44 but as a
delegate to the 1948 Democratic national convention, he walked out with
the other Mississippi Dixiecrats. Two decades later, Emmerich would
claim that he had not joined the Dixiecrats because of the civil rights
platform of Harry Truman, but because of the Democrats' apathy toward
the national debt and the erosion of the individual rights of the states.45
However, in a front page editorial following the convention, Emmerich
wrote: "Many minority groups have taken over control of the Democratic
Party. The Negroes of the East have far more influence in the Democratic
Party than do all the white people in the South. Naturally, the Southern-
ers are determined that this situation shall be corrected."46
Emmerich voiced support of a Mississippi law rushed into passage to
counteract Brown that was more than half a century late in addressing the
"separate but equal" demands of Plessy v. Ferguson. "The Negro leadership
that is opposed to the separate but equal plans is doing its people a vast
disservice," Emmerich wrote. "The Mississippi plan is a compromise
which helps both races. It would be a serious mistake to plunge our two
races together in our schools at this hour."47
The next day he announced in a front page editorial column,
"Neither race wants an integrated school system in Mississippi."48 Later in
the month, Emmerich published his "5-Part Plan to Help Maintain
Segregated Schools in Mississippi," which was reprinted in the Jackson
Clarion-Ledger. ,49 In what seemed a desperate last effort to maintain
82 Weill 'Fall 1999
segregation, Emmerich proposed that Plessy v. Ferguson be finally honored
by "equalizing" the black and white schools. Once that was done,
Emmerich reasoned, the Supreme Court would relax the demands of
Brown.50
In searching for rationalization of his traditional Southern views,
Emmerich, like most other editors of the Mississippi daily press, sought
credible black allies. He found one in Davis Lee, the black publisher of
the Newark (New Jersey) Telegraph, whose editorial on Brown was pub-
lished on the front page of the McComb paper: "Southern Negroes may
lose a lot more than they gain. This movement to integrate the schools of
the South is loaded with more racial dynamite than appears on the surface
and the Negro will be the one who is blown away."51
West of McComb on the Mississippi River, where the Adams
County population was 49 percent black in 1954, there were two daily
newspapers, and the Natchez Democrat published one of the few Missis-
sippi editorials supporting the Supreme Court's decision. Editor Elliott
Trimble, or an unnamed editorial writer, stepped beyond the usual
traditional Southern views of the newspaper for one brief moment in May
1954:
A very great many people have been convinced for generations
that segregation was inherently wrong, law or no law, and a
violation of national morals. But they haven't known what to
do about it until now ....
Certainly there can be pride that the Supreme Court has
finally faced up to what has obviously been the law all the
time. Administered with goodwill, it may prove an important
step in clearing up the whole matter of segregation. Children
growing up together can hardly maintain the deep suspicions
which have so complicated this problem.52
Two days later, however, a different voice emerged. It seemed as if
someone else had taken the editorial reins of the Natchez Democrat.
"[Brown] is the inevitable fruit of the nation's gradual, but certain, shift
away from the basic concepts of American Constitutional government. It
is our considered opinion that we shall live to regret this Supreme Court
decision — not necessarily because formal segregation has been abolished,
but because the court acted without due regard to its position in the
division of power among the three branches of government."53
Why the tone changed so drastically in the two editorials in the
Natchez Democrat may never be known because Trimble died in 1997,
shortly before being contacted by the author of this study for an inter-
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 83
view.54 Perhaps advertisers pressured the newspaper, or threats of bodily
harm were made, or white community outrage was overwhelming.
Whatever the reason, the editorial pen at the Natchez Democrat was
definitely refocused.
Defending States' Rights
Trimble continued his diatribe against government interference in
the Southern way of life, "When the power of the government is used, or
sought to be used, for the purpose of changing human nature, customs
and mores, it has lost its American characteristics."55 His concerns seemed
to focus primarily on the states' rights issue. "Whatever the outcome of
events following the anti-segregation decision, there is grounds for fear
that the federal government is daily becoming more successful in its
encroachment on the rights of states," Trimble wrote.56
Across town at the Natchez Times, newly founded in 1949, the early
mood seemed supportive of Brown, as had been the case at the Natchez
Democrat. Herman Moore, editor of the Natchez Times, was silent in May
regarding the decision, but he published a guest editorial by Thomas
Stokes from Washington, DC "It is surmised that most Southerners
expected the kind of decision that was rendered which may help to
explain the restrained reaction," Stokes wrote. "It's suggested that they
foresaw it because deep in their hearts a great many of them feel it was the
right decision."57
An anonymous letter to the editor of the Christian Science Monitor
was published in the Natchez Times which supported Brown but warned
that black children should not be made to suffer to boost the egos of
black leaders. "I do not believe it just or right to pour millions of ignorant
Negro children into our white schools in order that a handful of
upperclass Negroes may be freed from a sense of inferiority," the anony-
mous writer said.58 By August, however, Moore was suggesting that police
power and redistricting be used to maintain racial segregation in the state's
schools.59
Also in August 1954, the Mississippi Supreme Court upheld the
decision of a lower court finding the Natchez Times guilty of libel and
awarded Mary Dunigan, a white woman, $5,000 for having been referred
to erroneously in the paper as a "Negro."60 The case was the first of its
kind in the state and the newspaper closed its doors a few years later.
North along the Mississippi River from Natchez in the southern
region of the Mississippi Delta is Vicksburg, where the Vicksburg Evening
Post has been owned by the Cashman family for five generations since
1883. The Warren County population was 50 percent black in 1954,6'
84 Weill •Fall 1999
and the Vicksburg Evening Post voiced support of traditional Southern
segregation. "Basically, we disagree with the decision," editor L.P.
Cashman, St., wrote. "We do not believe either colored or white Missis-
sippians will ever be happy under a system of non-segregation. By their
very natures, the races are apart."62
Into the northeast corner of the state is Tupelo, where the Lee
County population was 27 percent black in 1954,63 and editor George
McLean of the Tupelo Daily Journal was a conservative Southerner who
advocated a calm approach to societal tribulations. His immediate
response to Brown was no different. "The South will no doubt respond
with a gradual reaction to the Supreme Court ruling rather than changing
its school system overnight," McLean wrote. "This is not a time for high
emotion or thoughtless action." 64
Similar to the other editors of the Mississippi daily press in 1954,
McLean was eager to publish support for his stance on segregation by
anyone from the black community. Like Emmerich in McComb, McLean
published the letter from Davis Lee, the black publisher of the Newark
(New Jersey) Telegraph, who wrote that desegregration could prove
harmful to blacks.65
South of Tupelo in West Point, where the Clay County population
was 56 percent black in 1954,66 editor WH. Harris of the Times-Leader
was an outspoken segregationist. The day after the Brown decision was
announced, he wrote: "None of us think for one minute that we are about
to throw white schools open to Negro children now. Your writer firmly
believes that he will some day see non-segregated schools in the South.
But first, we must pass through a lengthy period of equalized school
facilities which will lift the Negro onto a higher level — mentally, socially
and morally." 67
Harris was vehement in his denouncement of Brown. "We know for
certain that Negro children are not going to be admitted to our white
schools for a long, long time," he wrote.68 Harris truly believed that
whites were the superior race and that the NAACP was up to no good.
"It's a pity that more of our intelligent Negro citizens cannot see the
motive of the NAACP," Harris wrote. "Integration is eventually coming —
even here in the deep South — but it will not come until the Negro race is
lifted onto a higher plane." 69
In 1954, Mississippi's capital city of Jackson had a population that
was 44 percent black.70 The city was also the home of the two most
widely-circulated daily newspapers in the state, the conservative Clarion-
Ledger and the equally conservative Daily News. The Hederman family
owned and edited the Clarion-Ledger. They despised, and were despised
in return, by Fred Sullens, the owner and editor of the Daily News. In
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 85
1954, when the Brown decision was handed down, however, Sullens'
Daily News and the Hederman's Clarion-Ledger stood side by side in their
support of the maintenance of a racially segregated Southern society and
racially segregated schools.
The Clarion-Ledger, with the largest circulation in the state, was
never hesitant to proclaim its traditional Southern convictions, and so it
was not on the day after Brown: "[S] tunning as the decision is, it creates
no immediate crisis. May 17, 1954, may be recorded by future historians
as a black day of tragedy for the South, and for both races, but we can
conduct ourselves in such a fashion as to cause historians to record that
we faced that tragedy and crisis with wisdom, courage, faith and determi-
nation such as our fathers would have applauded."71
Attacking Sacred Traditions
Published letters to the editor of the Clarion-Ledger were where the
actual drama was played out concerning Brown in 1954. Grover Hewell of
Canton wrote, "The Supreme Court, in its deadly coil, is about to strike
down our sacred traditions,"72 and Blanche Gregory of Pickens agreed:
"Under heaven let there be no brother and sister incestation between
races. Sociology informs us that the white blood of the South, including
that in the black belt, has a higher percentage of racial purity than that of
any other section of the country."73 Edwin White, a member of the
Mississippi House of Representatives from Holmes County, concurred:
"There is only one thing in the whole situation which the white man asks
for and that is the privilege of his children, and his children's children,
continuing to be white people. It's God's law."74
To its credit, the Clarion-Ledger also published several letters of
support for the elimination of racial discrimination following Brown. Jack
Garellick of Vicksburg wrote, "We are all God's children and he ignores
the distinctions made by men; segregation was man-made."75 Garellick
was supported by L.G. Patterson of Jackson, "There are those of us who
believe that the Negro will act and behave like a human being only when
he is educated and treated like one."76
Evelyn Riley, a black woman from Itta Bena, was allowed to express
her support of segregation: "We are proud of our race and do not want to
go to school with your children if you do no want us there. Frankly, I feel
the same about the whites as they feel about me."77 In response, however,
"A Concerned Taxpayer" responded: "If the whites had done more for us,
she [Riley] says, we wouldn't have to go to the Supreme Court. Why
doesn't the Negro do for himself? No, we the white people have helped,
pampered, and cared for this race for so long they have become like a
86 Weill -Fall 1999
youngster who has been given too much. Let the Negro build his own
schools with his own taxes, let the white man build his with his."7'
Across town, the Daily News, with the second largest circulation in
the state,79 made news itself in August 1954 after being purchased by the
rival Hedermans of the Clarion- Ledger. .80 The Hedermans had begun
secretly acquiring Daily News stock in an attempt to take control of the
newspaper and when the plan was discovered by Sullens he took the
Hedermans to court and won the case. But he also went broke because of
accrued legal debts. In August 1954, an elderly and ailing Sullens finally
sold the Daily News to the Hedermans and announced the decision to his
flabbergasted staff by saying: "You may think I prostituted myself. If so,
I'm the highest paid he-whore in Mississippi."81
The Daily News had acquired the vociferous editorial pen of Sullens
in 1904, and for the next half century the Daily News was Sullens'
mouthpiece. In his editorials and front page column, "The Lowdown on
Higher- Ups," politicians and federal laws were often the object of his
scorn. One local legend held that Sullens, not a writer to hide behind his
words, confronted Mississippi Governor Paul B. Johnson, Sr. (1940-
1943) in the lobby of a Jackson hotel and broke a walking cane across the
governor's back.82 Sullens' view of Brown was that desegregration would
lead to "social equality in all its uglier forms."83
Sullens, who continued as editor after the Hederman acquisition,
voiced his interpretation of Brown as the final insult from a Supreme
Court that was, in his mind, determined to destroy the Southern way of
life regardless of the confusion and carnage it left behind. In his page one
editorial, "Low Down on Higher Ups," Sullens vented his wrath:
[The decision was] the worst thing that has happened to the
South since carpetbaggers and scalawags took charge. It is even
worse. It means racial strife of the bitterest sort. Mississippi
will never consent to placing white and Negro children in the
same public schools. The white people and the thinking
Negro people do not want that to happen. Both look on the
decision as a calamity. White and Negro children in the same
schools will lead to... the mongrelization of the human race.84
Sullens did not address the "mongrelization" that had already
occurred during the generations in Mississippi when white masters had
fathered children by their black slaves.
Similar to Harmon in Hattiesburg, Sullens had suddenly become an
insider on what blacks wanted for themselves and their children and
according to him: "An overwhelming majority of the Negro parents in
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 87
Mississippi do not want their children to attend white schools; they prefer
to have their children taught by teachers of their own race. They are not
seeking any form of social equality."83
Throughout May 1954, Sullens continued to blast the Supreme
Court and to declare that Brown would be ignored in Mississippi, "There
may be many doubts as to what other states intend to do, but the people
of Mississippi have always had the intelligence and courage sufficient to
manage their own destiny."86 He found great solace in the fact that, "For
the 58 years the mandate of the Supreme Court was on the books declar-
ing that separate school facilities must be equal, this was never enforced;
how much harder will it be if they try to enforce this most recent ver-
sion?" 87 Sullens also published numerous statements that are partially
responsible for the negative stereotype of the Mississippi press during this
time period, particularly because the Daily News was one of the two most
widely-circulated newspapers in the state, "The vast majority of Negroes
in our state are timid or inarticulate."88 Statements such as this, though
often flaunted as an overview of the Southern press, were few and far
between in the issues of the Mississippi daily newspapers examined for
this study. The Mississippi editors in 1954 may have agreed that blacks
were not equal as a race of people, but they seldom voiced such deroga-
tory generalizations in their newspapers.
Later in the summer, as the beginning of the 1954-55 school year
approached, Sullens was back with his virulent pen: "As the thinking
people of Mississippi see it, the Supreme Court decision is in itself illegal.
It is a flagrant defiance of an essential and firmly established social
order."89 Also in August, Sullens attacked the NAACP for "misrepresent-
ing" the black community, and he praised the "thinking" blacks who
supported segregation: "Thoughtful, hardworking peace-loving Negroes
prefer their own schools, churches and places of entertainment. The
thinking colored people of Mississippi should listen to the sensible and
conservative leaders of their race and turn deaf ears to the radicals and
strife-breeders. The insolent and impractical demands of the NAACP will
not be granted."90
Letters to the editor of the Daily News in May and August 1954
were of an intriguing and varied assortment pertaining to Brown. Interest-
ingly, Sullens responded to his own threatening approach to the NAACP
with an appeal to letter writers not to use the same tactics. In late May, he
had published a front page warning to the organization: "[NAACP
officials] will risk trouble rather than wait for the Supreme Court to find
out how it is going to enforce its foolish decision. So be it. Trouble is
never hard to find."91 A few weeks later, Sullens admonished letter writers
to calm their rhetoric, "No matter whether written by white persons or
88 Weill -Fall 1999
Negro, the Daily News will not print communications on the subject of
segregation that contain violent, abusive or intemperate language."92
The Daily Neivs published many letters regarding Brown, primarily
those in support of segregation. Since black support of racial segregation
was heralded in the white-owned Mississippi daily press in 1954, one
letter from C.W. Falconer, a "Negro teacher," was published on the front
page: "I truthfully believe my race should not advocate mixing of schools
at this time because it would have a tendency to bring disunity between
the races, a thing which the Communist Party desires. We must not cut
our own throats on this issue."93 Another black, Viola Prine, wrote: "We
know that they [white people] have taught their children that they are
superior to Negroes. Why put our black children through this?"94
Hodding Carter, Jr., Champion of Justice
The only Mississippi daily press editor in 1954 who took a consis-
tently supportive approach to civil rights issues in general was Hodding
Carter, Jr., of the Delta Democrat-Times. Located on the Mississippi River
in Greenville, where the Washington County population was 67 percent
black in 1954,95 Carter advocated the racial desegregation of the school
system — but only on the college level96 — and displayed a global con-
sciousness unusual for the times. Carter gained a reputation for being
"sensible and moderate" on the issue of race relations,97 and made a name
for himself as a champion of justice for all people. In doing so, he at-
tracted the wrath of a wide range of traditional Mississippians, from
political icon Theodore Bilbo to the state legislature, who actually voted
him "a liar by legislation."98 In 1946, Carter was awarded the Pulitzer
Prize for editorial writing and his glory was dampened by political sour
grapes. He wrote: "Theodore Bilbo, then running for re-election to the
United States Senate, told a group of listeners that 'no self-respecting
Southern white man would accept a prize given by a bunch of nigger-
loving, Yankeefied Communists for editorials advocating the mongreliza-
tion of the race.'"99
In 1954, Carter urged his readers to think positively about Brown:
"Whatever the South thinks of [the decision], there is no doubt that it
will raise Americas prestige in the world, and especially in the world of
brown and yellow and black people. And to us in the South, it gives a
challenge to replace trickery and subterfuge in our educational structure
with an honest realization that every American child has the right to an
equal education."100 Carter also praised his community for their "calm
compliance coupled with determination to work things out."101
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 89
In late August, as the public schools were enrolling students, the
Delta Democrat-Times published Carter's front page editorial, which
clearly stated his views regarding public school desegregation: "It would
be tragic if in the deep South any widespread or concentrated effort is
made this fall or in the immediate future to enroll Negro children in
hitherto all-white schools. This is not said as a threat or warning, but as a
basic fact. A majority of Southerners are not ready for the reality of
integration."102
Mississippi's politicians had a field day with Brown, using the
mandate to illustrate the horrors of federal encroachment, but most
editors of the Mississippi daily press had nothing to say in response to
their elected officials, other than giving their wire service stories front
page placement. US Senator James Eastland said, "The South will not
abide by, nor obey, this legislative decision by a political court."103 Paul B.
Johnson, Jr., a future governor of Mississippi (1964-1968), who would be
serving in office when the state's schools began to desegregate, said: "The
white people in Mississippi are not in any mood to accept Negroes in our
schools. I, for one, will fight against that to my dying day. The whites of
this state want no colored in-laws."104 Fielding Wright, a former governor
of Mississippi and the failed vice presidential candidate of the States'
Rights "Dixiecrat" Party in 1948, came forward with a plan to use police
force to maintain segregation in the state's public schools.105
Unlike the other editors of the Mississippi daily press in 1954,
Carter in Greenville could not resist the opportunity to take a crack at the
state's leaders, with whom he often had complaints. "Every responsible
individual with whom we have talked about the matter is using his good
sense and refuses to be stampeded into making damn fool remarks,"
Carter wrote. "This isn't so of our politicians and state observers."106
McLean in Tupelo went even further. Though he did not support
the racial desegregation of the state's school system, McLean disapproved
of politicians using the issue for personal gain: "Southern politicians are
occupied full time nowadays denouncing the Supreme Court. But when
the novelty has worn off this sport, they will seek something more
spectacular to keep their names before the public as guardians of Dixie
education."107
Another political ploy had raised the hackles of Carter a few days
after the Brown decision was announced. Mississippi Governor White
attempted to convince black leaders that the state's schools for blacks
would be upgraded, or "equalized,"108 as had been mandated by Plessyv.
Ferguson in 1896 but never enforced in the state, and that it would be in
the "best interest" of the black community to support this "voluntary"
segregation.109 The proposal, although widely supported by the Missis-
90 Weill* Fall 1999
sippi daily press, did not receive much support from leaders of the
Mississippi or national NAACP,"0 whose ideas and meeting places were
suddenly front page news. Carter found the governor completely out of
touch with the black community to even suggest that they accept volun-
tary segregation. "Governor Hugh White said he was stunned the other
day when he learned that the state's Negroes did not, in fact, plan to go
along with his plan for 'voluntary segregation' in the public schools,"
Carter wrote. "Granting the news was unpleasant at best, for the governor
to be 'stunned' indicates that he hasn't had his ear to the ground."1"
Should Public Schools Be Abolished?
Within a week of the Broivn decision, Governor White began
committee appointments for a newly created 25-member Mississippi
Legal Education Advisory Committee (LEAC) to investigate ways to
maintain segregation in the state's public schools, an action widely
reported in the Mississippi daily press.112 LEAC appointee Thomas Tubb
of West Point supported a traditional Southern argument: "Gradual
integration of the races would ultimately lead to the destruction of the
white race."113 Not all members of the LEAC shared Tubb's view, how-
ever, and the committee was described as "wildly split on school issues."114
One consideration before the LEAC was a recommendation to
abolish the public school system and organize a private system supported
by tax dollars through an amendment to the state constitution. This was
an amendment worth considering, according to several editors of the
Mississippi daily press, and a notion akin to total insanity, according to
most others. Waldon in Corinth was particularly vehement in his de-
nouncement of the idea: "The proposal to wipe-out a hundred years of
educational progress in this state would set us back to pioneer days if we
allowed it. We do not believe that the proposal to abolish public educa-
tion is a good, well thought-out answer to the problem of segregation in
the schools."115
Carter in Greenville agreed with Waldon that the public school
system should not be abolished, and based his decision on regional
reaction, "The fact that none of the other Southern states is now consider-
ing abolition of the public schools would certainly indicate to us that the
system isn't calculated to be the best one."116 Emmerich in McComb,
who had drafted his own plan for maintaining segregated schools, also
thought abolition of the public schools was ludicrous,117 and Moore at
the Natchez Times agreed, "A move at this time to prepare for wrecking
the public school system certainly seems ill-advised."118
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 9 1
In support of the abolition of the state's public school system to
maintain racial segregation was editorial columnist Charles M. Hills of
the Clarion-Ledger and Harris of the West Point Times-Leader. "The
people of Mississippi are prepared to go to any end to keep the Negro out
of white schools," Hills wrote.119 Harris concurred, "[M]ost of us would
quickly and willingly approve the abolition of our public schools before
we would permit our children to become involved in any bloody integra-
tion system."120
As the Mississippi school year began in late August 1954, none of
the Mississippi public schools was racially integrated as ordered by Brown
v. Board of Education. Nor was the Mississippi public school system
abolished or a private school plan amended to the state constitution.
Toward the end of the summer, Governor White began a campaign in the
Mississippi legislature to pass a bill "forbidding anyone from stirring up
race trouble by filing lawsuits against schools, except for relatives of
children in that school."121
The manner in which the Southern press in general, and the Missis-
sippi press in particular, dealt with Brown v. Board of Education and other
society- altering civil rights issues has been a subject of extended contro-
versy. Some media analysts have condemned Southern newspapers for
their erratic reporting and inflammatory interpretation,122 but others have
determined that the Southern press "did an adequate job."123 One
observer noted that civil rights coverage did not differ substantially
between Southern and Northern newspapers.124
In 1954, the major issues of concern raised by editors of the Missis-
sippi daily press following Brown v. Board of Education were (1) that black
and white children should not be schooled in the same facilities as this
could lead to integrated socializing which would be unacceptable by
traditional Southern standards, (2) that black and white children should
not be schooled together because black children would not be able to
compete academically with the white children, and (3) that the public
schools in the state should not be abolished to prevent this. According to
their socially conservative editorials during May and August 1954, the
notion that blacks and whites should be educated together based on the
equality of the two races was a concept that remained unacceptable and
inconceivable.
Did Not Advocate Violence
It is interesting to note that contrary to what media critics have
observed about the promotion of violent suppression of civil rights
activity in a small sampling of Southern newspapers,125 the Mississippi
92 Weill 'Fall 1999
daily press in 1954 did not advocate violence to maintain segregation
following Brown. Not once was this found in any of the 20 newspapers.
Most of the editors did, however, support other means to undermine
the desegregation of the public schools in the state, such as recommend-
ing that their communities simply refuse to comply with the mandate.
In their news coverage of the civil rights issues pertaining to Brown v.
Board of Education, the two most widely-circulated Mississippi daily
newspapers, the Jackson Clarion- Ledger and the Jackson Daily News, were
not representative of the Mississippi daily press. Although all the daily
newspapers subscribed to at least one of the three major wire services
available at the time, AP, UP or INS, and they ran the copy relatively
unrevised, staff-written stories by the Clarion-Ledger and the Daily News
were much more virulent, for the most part, than those of the other
newspapers. The editorials of Sullens at the Daily News and Hills at the
Clarion-Ledger certainly earned their reputation for propagating racial
polarization and intensifying the opposition of Mississippi whites to racial
desegregation.126 Except for Harris of the West Point Times-Leader and
Skewes at the Meridian Star, this blatant "fire breathing" racism was not
generally true of the other editors of the Mississippi daily press in 1954.
Whether the editorial stance of Mississippi's daily press was represen-
tative of its readers in 1954 is not known. The fact that it took nearly two
decades for the majority of the state's school systems to comply with the
Brown order would indicate that many of the readers — at least the white
readers who controlled local school boards — did not agree that a system
of racial desegregation was the preferred educational arrangement. It is
also important to note that in many Mississippi communities, the estab-
lishment of private academies for white students corresponded with local
compliance to Brown, another indication that many of the white readers
preferred a racially segregated educational system.
A letter to the editor of the Jackson Daily News in August 1954,
however, could have been speaking for many more white Mississippians
than is generally thought. "I hate to think of the contempt the rest of the
nation must have for the South if they have read the front pages of the
Mississippi newspapers," wrote Mary Taylor of Jackson.127
Socially responsible editorship of the Mississippi daily press follow-
ing the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision might have seemed, to
advocates of equal rights, an editorship that would have endorsed quality
education for all people. But to most of the white editors and reporters of
the Mississippi daily press in 1954, and to most white Mississippians,
socially responsible editorship during that time meant the endorsement
and protection of Mississippi society as they had always understood and
defended it — racially segregated with blacks in subservient roles as
second-class citizens.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 93
Endnotes
'James Loewen and Charles Sallis, Mississippi Conflict and Change (New York: Pantheon Books,
1974), 256.
'Harry Holloway, The Politics of the Southern Negro (New York: Random House, 1969), 34;
Loewen and Sallis, 202-210; Neil R. McMillen, Dark Journey: Black Mississippians in the Age of Jim
Crow (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1990) 156.
'"South Faces Enormous Problems in Ending Segregation," AP, Laurel Leader-Call, 21 May 1954,
12.
"Loewen and Sallis, 247; McMillen, 73.
'McMillen, 90.
"McMillen, 73.
7Loewen and Sallis, 247.
8McMillen, 84-85.
''Roy E. Carter, Jr., "Segregation and the News: A Regional Content Study," Journalism Quarterly
(Winter 1957), 9; Thomas Clark, The Emerging South (2d ed., New York: Oxford University Press,
1968) 199; Carolyn Martindale, The White Press and Black America (Westport, Ct: Greenwood Press,
1986), passim.
'""Belting One Down for the Road" Nation, 6 October 1962, 190; Hugh Davis Graham, Crisis in
Print: Desegregation and the Press in Tennessee (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 1967), 314-316.
"William Lance Conn, "Crisis in Black and White: The McComb Enterprise-Journal's Coverage of
Racial News, 1962-1964" (Master's thesis, University of Mississippi, 1991) ; David R. Davies, "J.
Oliver Emmerich and the McComb Enterprise-Journal: Slow Change in McComb, 1964" Journal of
Mississippi History, February 1995, 1-24; Robert W. Hooker, "Race and the News Media in
Mississippi, 1962-1964" (Master's thesis, Vanderbilt University, 1971); Gary Lynn Huey, "P.D. East:
Southern Liberalism and the Civil Rights Movement, 1953-1971" (Ph.D. diss., Washington State
University, 1981); James T Sellers, "A History of the Jackson State Times: An Agent of Change in a
Closed Society (Ph.D. diss., The University of Southern Mississippi, 1992); John Ray Skates, Jr. "A
Southern Editor Views the National Scene: Frederick Sullens and the Jackson, Mississippi, Daily
News" (Ph.D. diss., Mississippi State University, 1965); Susan M. Weill, "African Americans and the
White-Owned Mississippi Press: An Analysis of Coverage from 1944 to 1984" (Master's thesis,
Jackson State University, 1993); Weill, "'In a Madhouse's Din': Civil Rights Coverage by Mississippi's
Daily Press, 1948 - 1968" (Ph.D. diss., The University of Southern Mississippi, 1998).
l:"By Unanimous Vote, High Court Rules Out School Segregation," AP, Vicksburg Herald, 18 May
1954, 1; "Court Ends Segregation," AP, Meridian Star, 17 May 1954, 1; "Court Overrules Color
Bar," AP, West Point Times Leader, 17 May 1954, 1; "Court Strikes Down School Segregation," AP,
Gulfport Daily Herald, 17 May 1954, 1; "High Court Strikes Down School Segregation," AP,
Clarksdale Press Register, 18 May 1954, 1; "Mississippi Will Adopt Cautious, Slow Approach to
School Segregation Ruling," UP, Greenwood Morning Star, 18 May 1954, 1; "Nation's Highest Court
Rules Segregation Unconstitutional," UP, Tupelo Daily Journal, 18 May 1954, 1; "Order End of
Segregation," AP Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 17 May 1954, 1; "Public School Segregation
Declared Unconstitutional," UP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 17 May 1954, 1; "Public School Segregation
Ruled Out Unanimously By Supreme Court," AP, Natchez Democrat, 17 May 1954, 1; "Racial
Segregation in Schools Ruled Against by Supreme Court," AP, McComb Enterprise-Journal, 17 May
1954, 1; "School Segregation is Held Illegal," UP, Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 17 May 1954, 1;
"School Segregation Upset," AP, Vicksburg Evening Post, 17 May 1954, 1; "Segregation Action May be
Delayed for Years," Natchez Times, 17 May 1954, 1; "Segregation Ended by Highest Court," AP,
Laurel Leader-Call, 17 May 1954, 1; "Segregated Schools Outlawed," AP, Hattiesburg American, 17
May 1954, 1; "State Seeks Answer to Adverse Ruling on School Segregation," AP, Jackson Clarion-
Ledger, 18 May 1954, 1; "Supreme Court Says Segregation Must End," Corinth Daily Corinthian, 17
May 1954, 1; "US Supreme Court Bans Segregation in Schools," AP, Greenwood Commonwealth, 17
May 1954, 1; "Will Not Obey Supreme Court," AP, Jackson Daily News, 17 May 1954, 1.
''Weill, '"In a Madhouses Din': Civil Rights Coverage by Mississippi's Daily Press, 1948-1968,"
24-70.
'"•Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department, Mississippi Statistical
Summary of Population, 1800-1980 (Jackson, Mississippi, 1980).
94 Weill -Fall 1999
l5James Marlow, "Negroes Will Try to End Segregation," Clarksdale Press Register, 19 May 1954, 4.
"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
l7James Marlow, "Negroes Will Try to End Segregation," Corinth Daily Corinthian, 18 May 1954,
4.
'"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
'''Birney Imes, Jr., "Supreme Court Decision," Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 18 May 1954, 1.
2"'Abolish Public School System," AP, Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 17 May 1954, 1.
^'Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
"Virgil Adams, "Schools in the South," Greenwood Commonwealth, 31 May 1954, 4.
-3Virgil Adams, "A Real Test for the South," Greenwood Morning Star, 18 May 1954, 6.
24Virgil Adams, "Supreme Court Exceeding Its Intended Role," Greenwood Morning Star, 19 May
1954,4.
25Virgil Adams, "The Real Stoty of How Southerners Treat the Negroes," Greenwood Morning Star,
24 August 1954, 4.
2r'Loewen and Sallis, 282.
"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
28"Public School Segregation Declared Unconstitutional, South Ponders Racial Problem Now in
View," UP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 17 May 1954, 1; "Dixie Readies Fight to Preserve Separate Schools
Despite Ruling," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 17 May 1954, 1; "Slow, Gautious Moves Planned by
Mississippi," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 17 May 1954, 1.
2''Loewen and Sallis, 25.
'"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
3IE.P. Wilkes, "Working Together," Gulfport Daily Herald, 20 May 1954, 4.
"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
33Andrews Harmon, "Example," Hattiesburg American, 21 May 1954, 2.
34"Jobs, Housing are Next, Says NAACP," AP, Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 18 May 1954, 1;
"NAACP Council Speaks in Jackson, Residential Segregation Blasted," Clarksdale Press Register, 7
May, 1954,1; "State NAACP Wants Action," AP, Corinth Daily Corinthian, 31 May 1954,1; "State
Negroes to Start Drive on Segregation," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 31 May 1954, 1; "Will Petition
School Boards to End Segregation," AP, Gulfport Daily Herald, 24 May 1954, 1.
35Andrews Harmon, "Strength of People," Hattieshurg American, 2 August 1954, 2.
36Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
37Harriet Gibbons, "Take It Easy," Laurel Leader-Call, 18 May 1954, 4.
38Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
3>;"The Meridian Star," Mississippi Press Association, 1 2 '5'* Anniversary Report, 58.
4"James H. Skewes, "We Rise to Defend Our Anglo-Saxon Way of Life," Meridian Star, 18 July
1948, p. 4.
4lJames H. Skewes, "Find Way or Make It," Meridian Star, 19 May 1954, 6.
42James H. Skewes, "The Will and the Way," Meridian Star, 29 May 1954, 4.
43Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
44Davies, passim; Conn, passim.
45Hooker, "Race and the News Media in Mississippi," 46.
46J.O. Emmerich, "We Will Win Party," McComb Enterprise-Journal, 15 July 1948, 1.
47J.O. Emmerich, "A Time to Cool, Calm and Dispassionate," McComb Enterprise-Journal, 17
May 1954, 2.
4SJ.O. Emmerich, "Highlights in the Headlines," McComb Enterprise-Journal,\% May 1954, 1.
4,,J.O. Emmerich, "Editor Suggests Ways to Maintain Segregation," Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 4
August 1954, 4.
5"J.O. Emmerich, "A Suggestion to Solve School Dilemma," McComb Enterprise-Journal, 2 August
1954, 1.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 95
5 'Davis Lee, from the Newark (New Jersey) Telegraph, in the McComb Enterprise-Journal, 9 August
1954, 1.
"Elliott Trimble, "Still Much Uncertain on Segregation," Natchez Democrat, 17 May 1954, 4.
"Elliott Trimble, "The Supreme Court's Decision on Segregation," Natchez Democrat, 19 May
1954,4.
54Mrs. Elliott Trimble, unpublished telephone interview by Susan Weill, 7 September 1997.
"Elliott Trimble, "Alternative to Slow Progress is Going Backward," Natchez Democrat, 26 May
1954,6.
^''Elliott Trimble, "From a Federal to a Unity Form of Government," Natchez Democrat, 29 May
1954,4.
"Thomas Stokes, "Lack of Fire- Eating, Ripsnorting Defiance From the South," Natchez Times, 21
May 1954, 4.
^Letter to the editor, Christian Science Monitor, in the Natchez Times, 23 August 1954, 4.
"Herman Moore, "Practical, Not Hast)', Planning Needed, ' Natchez Times 19 August 1954, 4.
'""Mississippi Supreme Court Declares Erroneous Designation of Race Libelous," AP, Clarksdale
Press Register, 24 May 1954, 1; "Mississippi Supreme Court Holds to Write of White Person as Negro
Libelous," Vicksburg Herald, 25 May 1954, 1; "Supreme Court Rules that to Write of White Person as
Negro is Libelous," AP, Natchez Democrat, 25 May 1954, 1; "Uphold Damages in Erroneous Race
Designation," AP, Gulfport Daily Herald, 24 May 1954, 1.
'''Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
r,2L.P. Cashman, Sr., "The Supreme Court Decision," Vicksburg Evening Post, 21 May 1954, 4.
'^Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
MGeorge McLean, "South Thinking Can Find Souths Solution," Tupelo Daily Journal, 18 May
1954,11.
'''Davis Lee, "Negro Editor Asks His Race to Think Twice," from the Newark (New Jersey)
Telegraph, in the Tupelo Daily Journal, 16 August 1954, 11.
''''Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
''7WH. Harris, "The Supreme Court Ruling," West Point Times-Leader, 18 May 1954, 4.
6SW.H. Harris, "We Know for Certain," West Point Times-Leader, 18 May 1954, 4.
'''W.H. Harris, "The School Problem," West Point Times-Leader, 2 August 1954, 4.
7"Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
7ITM. Hederman, Jr., "Segregation Crisis Faces Us," Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 18 May 1954, 6.
7-Grover Hewell, letter to the editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 19 May 1954, 12.
"Blanche Gregory, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 28 May 1954, 8.
7 ■* Edwin White, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 12 August 1954, 14.
75Jack Garellick, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 22 May 1954, 6.
7''L.G. Patterson, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 10 August 1954, 8.
77Evelyn Riley, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 5 August 1954, 12.
"Concerned Taxpayers, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 9 August 1954, 6.
"N.W. Ayer and Son's Directory (of) Newspapers and Periodicals, 86''' edition, 521.
"""Clarion-Ledger Buys Daily News," AP, Hattieshurg American, 9 August 1954, 1; "Clarion-Ledger
Buys Daily News" AP, Vicksburg Herald, 8 August 1954, 1; "Jackson Daily News Sold to Hedermans,"
Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 8 August 1954, 1; "Newspaper Suit Settled," Jackson Daily News, 8
August, 1954, 1.
"'"Revolt in Mississippi," Time, 8 November 1954, 60.
"Frank E. Smith, Congressman from Mississippi (New York: Pantheon Books, 1964) 41.
s,Reed Sarratt, The Ordeal of Desegregation: The First Decade (New York: Harper and Row, 1966),
253.
X4Fred Sullens, "Bloodstains on the White Marble Steps," Jackson Daily News, 18 May 1954, 1.
s,Fred Sullens, "The Segregation Decision," Jackson Daily News, 19 May 1954, 8.
96 Weill -Fall 1999
"''Fred Sullens, "We are Not Acquiescent," Jackson Daily News, 23 May 1954, 10.
87"Mississippi will not be Bound by Ruling of United States Supreme Court on Segregation Before
Lawsuits in Each District," Jackson Daily News, 24 May 1954, 5.
""Fred Sullens, "Low Down on Higher Ups," Jackson Daily News, 5 August 1954, 1.
"''Fred Sullens, "Yes, We Are Defiant," Jackson Daily News, 8 August 1954, 8.
'"'Fred Sullens, "It's Time for Thinking," Jackson Daily News, 1 August 1954, 8.
'"Fred Sullens, "Low Down on Higher Ups," Jackson Daily New, 25 May 1954, 1.
l,2Fred Sullens, "No Heat, If You Please," Jackson Daily News, 9 August 1954, 4.
93C.W Falconer, "Negro Teacher Asks Dual School System Remain as Best Policy for South,"
Jackson Daily News, 2 August 1954, 1.
'""Viola Prine, letter to editor, Jackson Daily News, 19 August 1954, 2.
'''Mississippi Power and Light Company Economic Research Department.
',f'Hodding Carter, Jr., "The Moment of Decision is Here," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 12
September 1962, 4; See also, Harry D. Marsh, "Hodding Carter's Newspaper on School Desegrega-
tion, 1954-1955," Journalism Monographs 92 (May 1985).
',7Hooker, 49.
''"Hodding Carter, Jr. Southern Legacy (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1950), 5-7;
Hodding Carter, Jr., First Person Rural (Garden City, Nj: Doubleday, 1963), 210; See also Harry D.
Marsh, "Hodding Carters Newspaper on School Desegregation, 1954-1955, "Journalism Monographs
92 (May 1985).
'''Hodding Carter, Jr. First Person Rural, 211.
""'Hodding Carter, Jr., "The Court's Decision," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 18 May 1954, 4.
""Hodding Carter, Jr., "Delta Shows Good Sense," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 20 May
1954, 3.
",aHodding Carter, Jr., "What Next for Our Schools?" Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 22 August
1954, 1.
'"'"Congressmen from Mississippi Blast Decision," AP, Vickshurg Evening Post, 18 May 1954, 1;
"Congressmen, Senators View Opinions," AP, Clarksdale Press Register, 18 May 1954, 1; "Decision
Bitterly Assailed by Southern Solons," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 18 May 1954, 1; "Dixie Congress-
men React to Decision," AP, Natchez Democrat, 18 May 1954, 1; "Dixie Congressmen React Sharply
to Segregation Edict," AP, Vickshurg Herald, 18 May 1954, 1; "Dixie Democrats View Ruling with
Alarm," AP, Corinth Daily Corinthian, 18 May 1954, 1; "Eastland Declares South Will Not Obey,"
AP, Jackson Daily News, 17 May 1954, 1; "Eastland: Won't Abide by Ruling," AP, Greenville Delta
Democrat-Times, 18 May 1954, 1; "Many Southern Congressmen Assail Segregation Decision," AP,
Natchez Times, 1 8 May 1954, 1 ; "Mississippi Congressmen View Ruling with Alarm," AP, West Point
Times-Leader, 18 May 1954, 1; "State Leaders Declare Segregation Will Stay," Columbus Commercial
Dispatch, 18 May 1954, 1; "State's Congressional Delegation Views with Alarm Segregation Act," AP,
Laurel Leader-Call, 18 May 1954, 1; "State's Congressmen View With Alarm Anti-Segregation
Ruling," AP, Meridian Star, 18 May 1954, 1; "US Supreme Court Decision Draws Bitter Attacks
from Southern Congressmen, " AP, Tupelo Daily Journal, 18 May 1954, 1; "White Leaders See
Enforcement Delay," AP, Natchez Democrat, 17 May 1954, 1.
"l4"Paul Johnson Firm in Segregation Stand," Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 12 August 1954, 1.
'"'"Fielding Wright Expresses His Opinion on the Subject of Enforcing Segregation," Jackson Daily
News, 2 August 1954, 1; "Fielding Wright Would Use Police to Keep Segregation,," AP, Laurel Leader-
Call, 2 August 1954, 1; "Former Gov. Wright Backs Up Segregation, Urges Police Power," AP, Jackson
Clarion-Ledger, 2 August, 1954, 1; "Former Gov. Wright Backs Up Segregation, Urges Police Power to
Separate Schools," Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 2 August 1954, 1; "Gov. White Says State Police Will be
used to Ban Negroes from White Schools," AP, Vickshurg Herald, 3 August 1954, 1; "Police Powers of
State Suggested in School Issue," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 2 August 195, 1; "Urge State to Use
Police Powers to Prevent Any Mixing of Races," AP, Greenwood Commonwealth, 1 August 1954, 1;
"Urges Police Power to Block Segregation," AP, Meridian Star, 2 August 1954, 1; "White Follows
Wright, Police Power," AP, McComb Enterprise-Journal, 3 August 1954, 1; "Use of Police Powers
Urged in Segregation," AP, Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 2 August 1954, 1; "White Urged to Use
Police Powers to Preserve Segregation in Schools," AP, Tupelo Daily Journal, 2 August 1954, 1;
"Wright Would Use Police Power to Stop Integration," AP, Corinth Daily Corinthian, 3 August 1954,
Fall 1999 •American Journalism 97
1; "Wright Urges Use of Police Powers to Maintain Dual Schools," AP, Hattiesburg American, 2
August 1954, 1; "Wright Supports Move to Use Police Power in Segregation," AP, West Point Times-
Leader, 2 August 1954, 1.
"l6Hodding Carter, Jr., "Delta Shows Good Sense," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 20 May
1954, 3.
"l7George McLean, "He Guessed Too Wrong to Follow Again," Tupelo Daily Journal, 20 May
1954,11.
'"""Equalization Talks Begin in Jackson," AP, Clarksdale Press Register, 18 May 1954, 1; "School
Plan Explained by Educators," AP, Vicksburg Herald, 19 May 1954, 1; "School Leaders Talk Cost of
School Program," AP, Natchez Democrat, 19 May 1954, 1; "School Superintendents Study Equaliza-
tion in Face of Ruling," AP, West Point Times-Leader, 18 May 1954, 1.
'"''"Negroes Refuse Consent Plan," Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 3 August 1954, 1.
"""NAACP Leaders Will Petition Public Schools," UP, Tupelo Daily Journal, 24 May 1954, 1;
"NAACP Reveal Intent to Fight All the Way on School Decision," AP, West Point Times-Leader, 31
May 1954, 1; "NAACP to ask Court to Hasten Erasure of Color Bar in Schools," AP, West Point
Times-Leader, 24 May 1954, 1; "NAACP to Seek Enforcement of Ruling in State" AP, Gulfport Daily
Herald, 31 May 1954, 1; "NAACP to Seek Immediate End of Segregated Schools," UP, Greenville
Delta-Democrat Times, 24 May 1954, 1; "Quick End to Segregation is NAACP's Aim," AP, Jackson
Clarion-Ledger, 24 May 1954, 1; "State NAACP Demands Total Desegregation," AP, Hattiesburg
American, 29 May 1954, 1; "State NAACP Pledges Unsegregated Schools," UP, Greenville Delta
Democrat-Times, 31 May 1954, 1; "State NAACP Wants Action," AP, Corinth Daily Corinthian,
"State Negroes to Start Drive on Segregation," AP, Grenada Sentinel-Star, 31 May 1954, 1; "Supreme
Court Decision Hailed by NAACP," AP, Vicksburg Herald, 18 May 1954, 1.
"'Hodding Carter, Jr., "The White Proposal," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 2 August 1954, 2.
' ""Advisory Group Will Get Action Soon on Ways to Dodge Decision on Segregation," AP, Laurel
Leader-Call, 18 May 1954, 1; "Eight Men Appointed to Legal Education Advisory Commirtee," AP,
Natchez Democrat, 19 may 9154, 1; "Gov. White will Select Committee for School Study," Vicksburg
Evening Post, 18 may 1954, 1; "Governor Moves to Set Up Committee to Find Ways of Retaining
Segregation," AP, West Point Times-Leader, 18 May 1954, 1; "Governor Names Laymen Members to
Advisory Group," Jackson Daily Neivs, 18 may 1954, 1; "Group Plans to Keep Segregation," AP,
Greenwood Commonwealth, 19 May 1954, 1; "Group to Dodge Court Decision will Roll Soon,"
Gulfport Daily Herald, 18 may 1954, 1; "Legal Parley to Meet June 2," Meridian Star, 20 May 1954,
1; "Pro- Segregation Leaders Plan Quick Action, Southern Chiefs Seek Ways to Maintain Dual
System," AP, Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 18 May 1954, 1; "Quick Action Promised, Find Ways
to Dodge the US Supreme Court Decision Outlawing Segregation in Public Schools," AP, Clarksdale
Press Register, 18 May 1954, 1; "South Segregationists to Fight to Bitter End Against Court's Decision,
See No Enforcement Soon in Most States," AP, Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 18 May 1954, 1;
"Special State Group to Sidetrack Segregation Ban," Vicksburg Herald, 20 May 1954, 3; "State Board
to Find Ways to Dodge Courts Anti-Segregation Decision Appointed by White," AP, McComb
Enterprise-Journal, 19 may 1954, 1; "State Leaders Plan First Conference," AP, Columbus Commercial
Dispatch, 20 May 1954, 1; "White Appoints Advisory Board in Evasion of Segregation Ruling," UP,
Greenwood Morning Star, 19 May 1954, 1; "White Appoints School Advisors," Jackson Clarion-
Ledger, 19 may 1954, 1 .
'""Segregation Most Vital Issue," AP, Columbus Commercial Dispatch, 5 August 1954, 1.
' l4"Slow Action Seen on Segregation Ban as State Legal Advisory Committeemen Wildly Split on
School Issues," AP, Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 23 May 1954, 1.
"'Jack Waldon, "Danger is Seen," Corinth Daily Corinthian, 9 August 1954, 4.
'"'Hodding Carter, Jr., "The White Proposal," Greenville Delta Democrat-Times, 2 August 1954, 2.
"7J.O. Emmerich, "A 5-Part Plan to Help Maintain Segregated Schools in Mississippi," McComb
Enterprise-Journal, 24 May 1954, 2; J.O. Emmerich, "A Suggestion to Solve School Dilemma,"
McComb Enterprise-Journal, 2 August 1954, 1.
""Herman Moore, "Practical, Not Hasty, Planning Needed," Natchez Times, 19 August 1954, 4.
"''Charles Hills, "Affairs of State," Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 15 August 1954, 9.
I:"WH. Harris, "Cart Before Horse," West Point Times-Leader, 16 August 1954, 4.
"'"Gov. White Plans Law to Prevent Race Trouble," AP, Vicksburg Herald, 27 August 1954, 1;
"White Proposes Segregation Barrier," AP, Hattiesburg American, 27 August 1954, 1; "White Reveals
98 Weill • Fall 1999
Another Plank in Program to Maintain Segregation," AP, Corinth Daily Corinthian, 27 August 1954,
1; "White Reveals Plank in Segregation Program," AP, Laurel Leader-Call, 27 August 1954, 1.
'""Belting One Down for the Road" ; Charles Butts, "Mississippi: The Vacuum and the System,"
in Black, White and Gray: 21 Points of View on the Race Question, ed. Bradford Daniel (New York:
Sheed and Ward, 1964), 104; "Dilemma in Dixie," Time, 20 February 1956, 76; "Dixie
Flamethrowers," Time, 4 March 1966, 64; "Moderation in Dixie," Time, 19 March 1965; Ted Poston,
"The American Negro and Newspaper Myths," in Race and the News Media, ed. Paul L. Fisher and
Richard L. Lowenstein (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1967), 63; Pat Watters and Reese Cleghorn,
Climbing Jacob's Ladder: The Arrival of the Negro in Southern Politics (New York: Harcourt, Brace and
World, 1967), 73; Simeon Booker, Black Man's America (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1964),
15; Roger Williams, "Newspapers in the South," Columbia Journalism Review 6 (Summer 1967): 27;
James Boylan, "Birmingham Newspapers in Crisis," Columbia Journalism Review 2 (Summer 1963):
30.
li3Roy E. Carter, "Racial Identification Effects Upon the News Story Writer," Journalism Quarterly
34 (1957): 284-290, and "Segregation and the News: A Regional Content Study," 3-18; William
Peters, The Southern Temper (Garden City, NY: Doubledayand Company, 1959), 115; Hooker, 240-
241; Hodding Carter III, "The Wave Beneath the Froth," in Race and the News Media, ed. Paul L.
Fisher and Richard L. Lowenstein (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1967), 6; Buford Boone,
"Southern Newsmen and Local Pressure," in Race and the News Media, ed. Paul L. Fisher and Richard
L. Lowenstein (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1967), 53.
'-4Sharon A. Bramlett, "Southern vs. Northern Newspaper Coverage of a Race Crisis — The Lunch
Counter Sit-In Movement, 1960-1964: An Assessment of Social Responsibility" (Ph.D. diss., Indiana
University, 1987), vi.
i:y'Dilemma in Dixie" ; "Dixie Flamethrowers," 64; "Moderation in Dixie," Time, 19 March 1965,
71; Edwin W Williams, "Dimout in Jackson," Columbia Journalism Review IX (Summer 1970), 56.
l2f'"Belting One Down for the Road"; Butts, 104; "Dilemma in Dixie," 76; "Dixie Flamethrowers";
"Moderation in Dixie"; Poston, "The American Negro and Newspaper Myths," 63; Watters and
Cleghorn, 73; Booker, 15; Williams, "Newspapers in the South," 27; Boylan, 30.
l27Mary Taylor, letter to editor, Jackson Clarion-Ledger, 13 August 1954, 10.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 99
Fall 1999
100
Book Reviews
If there is any consistency to this issues offering of book reviews, it is the
fact that all deal with some form of controversy. Jon Bekkens review addresses
some of the major concerns over the move to what some call "public journal-
ism" and others, referring to same thing, call "civic journalism." Louise
Benjamin's review takes a look at some of the current issues in the global
combination of television news and satellite transmissions. Her work makes
the point that it is far more difficult covering the world in 20 seconds or less
than it is to cover one's backyard.
Elizabeth Burt offers a review of a collection of quite good essays dealing
with the sensitive topic of how the news is treating minorities. The issue has
been around since before the D. W. Griffith production of "Birth of a Nation"
and currently it appears that the issue will not escape us soon. Doug Birkhead's
review summarizes some of the issues that are being debated regarding the
quality of television news and what we can do about it. To give a historical
backdrop to the debate, Stephen Phipps reviews the memoirs of Richard
Salant, one of the major players in the development of television news at CBS
in New York.
Carolyn Kitch reviews a book that explores problems arising from
developing societies' struggle with the age-old question of press freedom. And
this collection of reviews concludes with Andrew Osier's review of an in-depth
look at Jean Paul Sartre as a media person. And I should note that the editor's
choice this time around is a new collection of the early journalistic writings of
Walt Whitman.
> David R. Spencer, Book Review Editor
^Editors Choice
The Collected Writings of Walt Whitman: The Jour-
nalism, Volume 1: 1834-1846
By Herbert Bergman, (ed.), New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 1998,
590pp.
Too often, surrounded by some of the mediocrity that passes for
journalism today, we forget that several famous literary figures in the
English language worked as journalists. Immediately the names of Charles
Dickens, Mary Ann Shadd Cary, William L. Shirer, Ernest Hemingway
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 101
and William Morris come to mind. The list is by no means exhaustive.
But any list that claims to be complete must include the name of Walt
Whitman whom most of us remember as Americas leading poet of the
19th century, if not the symbol of America itself. Whitman's life, as
complicated and secretive as it was, was the life of a writer, one which
began in earnest in 1834 and only ended with his death in 1892.
Having worked for years in newspaper files contained on bleary
microfilm or in rotting originals, I can appreciate the difficulty of the task
that faced the editors of this massive volume. If little else, Whitman was a
prolific writer. The contents of this book are spread over 590 pages,
covering only the period between 1834 and 1846. The researchers covered
no less than 14 newspapers, some continuations of others, containing
writings by Whitman. Some are as short as two sentences, others exceed
two pages. The Appendix contains a complete list of source locations of
items in the book as well as a list of missing issues that probably contained
more of Whitman's work.
The notation begins in small print on page 487 and continues until
page 564. I bring this to your attention to give you a detailed example of
the care that has been exercised in compiling this volume. The text pages
are marked every five lines and the notation system records any anomalies
in the text by reference to these numbers. The notes make reference to
interpretations of Whitman's work, provide historical details not con-
tained in the text and explain factors such as grammatical and spelling
mistakes. The book is clearly designed for researchers and, in a compli-
ment to the editors, they make it easy to use. Having struggled with
newspapers in the 19th century that were not indexed, I can appreciate
how much effort it has taken to make this work effective.
Is this just a chronological collection of Whitman's musings or can
we learn something of the author and his times from these writings? The
book provides the reader with insight into a complex and creative writer.
It is not surprising that Whitman takes great pains not to reveal his sexual
preferences in any of the works. It is almost painful in this day and age to
read of his views of the sexuality of young New York women and how he
pined after them, at least in print. However, to his credit Whitman never
explained his lack of a wife in these volumes and, of course, it is too early
to see his reaction to the love letters of Mrs. Anne Gilchrist.
The literary power that emerges in much of the work contained in
these volumes is that of the descriptive narrative. At this, Whitman was a
master even early in his life. Whitman's journalism was not the journalism
of the reporter, but of the observer of life, of the columnist and of the
1 02 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
reviewer. A classic example of early Whitman is contained in this piece
published in the New York Aurora on April 23, 1842.
Dreams, to the pure of heart, are always messengers of love and
beauty; be he the son of wealth or of poverty, they are to him a gilding
which serves to adorn and beautify the roughest deformities of life. There
are the dreams of the day and dreams of the night, but around all fancy
twines a magic wreath.
Of course, one must keep in mind that the newspapers of this period
of Whitman's early life in New York was quite unlike the journals that
published in the year of his death. In this respect, Whitman resembles
many of his colleagues in the first half of the 19th century who brought a
strong and very visible personal touch to the press. What is difficult to
find in the Whitman prose is a sense of his political stance. There are
frequent outbursts of indignation as various Boards of Education in the
area will attest to, but no consistent, well-argued set of ideological per-
spectives. In reading these works, always keep in mind that the oldest
piece in the book was written when Whitman was only 25 years old.
Nonetheless, what we do get is an interesting, and well-crafted insight
into life in New York, Brooklyn and Long Island in the years before the
Civil War. And, if one were to accept Whitman's analysis, it was a much
simpler life than we lead today, but one filled with far more dangers of
early death from a variety of diseases that have long since been eliminated.
Is this a book for bedtime reading, the dedicated journalism scholar
or just the graduate student colony looking for a good research topic? In
many ways, it is all three. I have always had an affection for Whitman's
writings since he lived in my community during 1880 as a guest of a local
physician, Richard Maurice Bucke, who gets a couple of notes in this
book. However, as valuable as this is for research purposes, as a general
reading book it needs to be taken in small doses. Yet anyone who appreci-
ates the skill with which Whitman wrote will say a thankful prayer to the
people who compiled this work. It is a tool which will literally save days
for Whitman scholars. Peter Lang Publishers has already listed Volume
Two, although it has yet to appear. Hopefully, it will have the strength
and imagination so prevalent in Volume 1.
> David Spencer, University of Western Ontario
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 1 03
Live, Direct and Biased? Making Television News in
the Satellite Age
By Brent MacGregor, London: St. Martin's Press, 1997, 234 pp.
Brent MacGregor's analysis of television news and its intersection
with technology is an enterprising and thoughtful account of how
technological developments have changed broadcast reporting over the
last decades of the 20th century and gives insight into how current
changes may alter the face of news coverage in the 21st. To this examina-
tion, MacGregor brings a background as both an academic and a broad-
cast news producer, which makes him uniquely qualified to bridge the gap
between practitioners and scholars studying electronic news formation.
The book's focus, as MacGregor notes in his introduction, "is a
study of the changing face of television news, examining both the trans-
mitted screen product and the news gathering and reporting process
which lies behind the broadcast bulletins viewers see every day." In
addition, MacGregor briefly traces the history of electronic news gather-
ing in the US and Great Britain from the telegraph to the satellite. He
then relates how the information map has changed radically in the late
20th century with the introduction of dedicated, 24-hour news services
such as CNN, Sky News, Euronews, CBC Newsworld, and BBC World.
In his analysis of these technological developments, MacGregor uses
several case studies with necessary background chapters to appraise news
technology and report work practices which have led to significant
changes in news rules, composition, and "grammar." One chapter sum-
marizes theories of news production, and MacGregor notes his analysis
builds on Michael Schudson's approach as it "examines news product as
text in several detailed case studies, paying particular attention to technol-
ogy-"
Another chapter briefly reviews news coverage of 1990s events such
as the 1991 Moscow coup attempt, U.N. intervention in both Somalia
and Bosnia, the Oklahoma City bombing, the Rabin assassination, and
the O.J. Simpson "white Bronco" chase and subsequent trial. Two other
chapters compare, in detail, US and British coverage of the 1991 IRA
bombing of Whitehall in the heart of London and international coverage
of the Gulf War and the bombing of Baghdad. In these chapters
MacGregor takes a comparative approach by analyzing the same news
story as presented by news organizations in different countries and makes
astute references to each nation's news gathering practices and the result-
ing news product, whether news story or program.
In the final chapters of the book, MacGregor raises the question "Is
news better reported, with more understanding, as a result of the new
1 04 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
technologies and the working practices they bring with them?" His answer
revolves around decisions made that affect news practices; it is not a clear
cut "yes" or "no" but rather a consideration of technological and eco-
nomic change and their effect on the ultimate news product.
While this book is not a textbook /w se, it will be exceedingly useful
in classes in media history, broadcast news, media and society, and critical
analysis of media. Its insights and perspective will challenge students to
review what they accept as objective news reportage. This work also will
challenge scholars to continue investigations of how news gathering and
production continue to change in the 21st century with evolving eco-
nomic and technological concerns. I recommend Live, Direct and Biased?
highly to all individuals interested in the formation of news.
>Louise Benjamin, University of Georgia
Press Freedom and Development, Bibliography.
By Clement E. Asante, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1997, 216 pp.
Here is a bibliographic guide that offers something more: the
suggestion that scholars who study the relationships between governments
and their countries' news media should also consider the role those media
play in national development, particularly in Third World countries. In
making this argument, Clement Asante, whose background is in non-
profit agency work devoted to improving communication as well as living
conditions in developing nations, contends that Western models for
categorizing press systems are no longer necessarily sufficient in under-
standing how mass media affect the political, social, and cultural condi-
tions of their constituencies.
The guide is neatly divided into two parts, the first surveying the
literature on freedom-of-the-press issues, and the second surveying work
on development communication. Each listing of resources is preceded by
a bibliographic essay that identifies major writings and considers the
evolution of each body of scholarship. In the latter section, the author also
comments on institutional and technological changes in media that have
transformed the possibilities for the role of journalism in shaping a
nation's growth. His brief but thoughtful discussion of the impact of new
media further explores how "the press" is now, and will be, defined.
This book should be a valuable resource for scholars in either of
these fields, and the press freedom essay will serve as a useful and succinct
summary of theory for students just beginning work in that area. Perhaps
more interesting than the territory the author does cover, however, are the
unexplored implications of his combination of these two concepts, press
"freedom" versus media as support-building tools for emerging govern-
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 105
merits and their populations. As Asante notes, these seemingly opposition
roles of the press are in fact fluid. It would have been even more helpful
had he provided a third essay exploring the gray areas between these roles,
and the ways in which his interesting comparison may shed light on
current re-evaluations of what journalism is and whom it should serve.
On the 50th anniversary of the Hutchins Commission report, a consider-
ation of the intersection of freedom and development issues seems the
perfect opportunity to discuss larger questions about press responsibility,
particularly in an increasingly global media system.
Also fascinating is what is suggested, but remains unsaid, in Asante's
explanation of the emergence of "alternative" models for development
communications, those that privilege cultural traditions and rely on grass-
roots involvement in media. Earlier, top-down models for mass communi-
cation in developing nations, he notes, were ineffective because they
"failed to take into consideration the goals and aspirations of the people
engaged in such programs. In short, the intended beneficiaries of a
development program should have a voice in designing and implementing
the program itself; it should not be imposed on them by the authorities or
the powers that be." Such an assessment echoes the language of current
debates about public dissatisfaction with Western journalism, and the
alternative development-media models Asante approvingly describes are
curiously similar to Western proposals for public journalism, a new model
of professional practice that calls for a reconsideration of objectivity (the
central concept on which "press freedom" traditionally has been based).
Indeed, this similarity suggests that issues of both freedom and
development might be studied not just in terms of a press' relationship
with its government, but also in terms of its relationship with its audi-
ence. Another theme that begs discussion is the impact of the conglom-
eration of mass media, within countries and globally. Asante devotes only
two pages to ownership issues and considers them as merely one aspect
(along with, for example, sourcing practices) of the balance of power
between government and the press. In fact, the economic dimension of
mass media may be transforming the definitions of both "the press" and
"government" (particularly in developing countries). While this is a
bibliographic guide, it is, as its title indicates, selective, and more atten-
tion to political economy scholarship might have added another interpre-
tive level to the survey.
Even if he does not fully discuss these various questions, Clement
Asante certainly raises them by combining two previously separate areas of
media scholarship. That innovative pairing, and the more than 500
sources it lists, is a service to journalism scholars.
> Carolyn Kitch, Temple University
1 06 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
Public Journalism and Public Life: Why Telling The
News Is Not Enough (2nd Ed.)
By Davis "Buzz" Merritt, Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates,
1998, 151pp.
Public life is generally acknowledged to be in crisis in the United
States, with people increasingly disengaged not only from the political
process but from the broader arena of civic life.
At the same time journalism has lost much of its credibility as a
public actor. "Buzz" Merritt argues that these two phenomena are inter-
related, and traces their origins to the Progressive era of the 1920s. The
Progressives' reliance on experts — in government as in journalism —
encouraged a disconnect between governing elites and citizens, transform-
ing citizens from active participants in the shaping of their society into
spectators. Journalism has followed a similar trajectory, with journalists
locked into a reluctant symbiosis with the political elites whose activities
have increasingly come to dominate our sense of news.
Journalists have developed a set of conventions and working prac-
tices that reinforce that divide and render journalism increasingly irrel-
evant to readers' lives. Episodic coverage, coupled with relentless dead-
lines, presents civic life as a series of disconnected events and problems.
Journalists' emphasis on conflict leads to polarized coverage focusing on
extremes while neglecting the middle ground where most people are and
where solutions can be worked through.
In Watergate's aftermath, Merritt suggests, "killer journalism" feeds
public cynicism while journalists look for new figures to bring down
rather than seek solutions to public problems. Aggravating the problem,
corporate ownership has transformed journalists into careerist transients
with little stake in the communities their news outlets fail to adequately
serve.
The details of this analysis are certainly open to challenge. While
Merritt claims that journalism focuses on extremes, much recent scholar-
ship suggests that reporters narrowly concentrate on centrist sources and
perspectives, often rejecting as too extreme to merit attention perspectives
that actually enjoy substantial public support. Similarly, journalistic
gypsies have long been with us, as Merritt acknowledges. What has
changed, I suspect, is that top editors and publishers have joined their
ranks.
Merritt draws on 40 years of journalistic experience, most spent
within the Knight-Ridder chain. He is a practitioner, not a historian, and
it shows in his lack of footnotes and skimpy bibliography. Since 1975,
Merritt has served as editor (and since 1997 senior editor) of the Wichita
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 1 07
Eagle. This has given him the opportunity to try out some of his ideas,
and Merritt briefly discusses his efforts at public journalism
His paper has demanded that candidates address "the issues," and he
believes that had something to do with increased voter turn-out (even
though the more wishy-washy candidate won). In North Carolina several
media outlets joined forces to demand that candidates speak to a range of
issues chosen through polling. That project was particularly controversial,
though Merritt's brief discussion strikes me as unsatisfying, especially in
the way it accepts issues as frozen in time and leaves little room for
candidates and the public to enter into a dialogue in which new issues
might come forward.
This is far from a how-to book. Merritt explicitly refuses to offer
prescriptions for how to undertake public journalism, and offers only
brief descriptions of some emblematic projects and stories. Rather, this
book is a call to journalists to reconsider what journalism is about, how
their stories ought to be framed, and what responsibility they might share
for the civic health of their communities. He urges journalists to explicitly
articulate the policy implications raised by their articles and point to
possible solutions to problems they identify. Journalism, he concludes,
should be an active participant in a long-term project of civic engage-
ment, telling the news in ways that enable and encourage citizenship.
To hear Merritt tell the tale, journalists have been invigorated by this
approach, and readers say they feel better informed. However, readership
has remained stagnant (despite studies which show that civic involvement
and newspaper readership go hand in hand) in Wichita as elsewhere, and
there is little evidence here of real public engagement in civic and political
life.
Nor is it clear that the basic approach employed in most public
journalism projects in any way addresses the fundamental issues. More
promising to my mind is Merritt's brief discussion of increased coverage
of community associations and what he calls "tough journalism" — that is,
journalism that asks tough questions — using Barlea and Steele's series
(and later book) on the destruction of middle income jobs in the 1980s
seems to me much more on target.
For Merritt this is all of one piece. The main point of this slender
volume is that journalists need to abandon their claimed status as outsid-
ers, and commit to a journalism that addresses fundamental issues, that
looks for ways to engage readers in finding solutions to public problems,
that is actively engaged in the work of rebuilding a democratic culture.
While I remain skeptical of much of the work done under the rubric of
public journalism, the crises in journalism and public life it seeks to
address are very real.
1 08 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
And while this is far from his intent, journalism historians might
find that Merritt's argument offers a useful prism through which to re-
examine the emergence and implications of objectivity and
professionalization.
>Jon Bekken, Suffolk University
Salant, CBS, and the Battle for the Soul of Broadcast
Journalism: The Memoirs of Richard S. Salant
By Susan and Bill Buzenberg, (eds.), Boulder, Colorado: Westview
Press, 1999, 326 pp.
Shortly after his retirement in 1984, Richard Salant, former presi-
dent of CBS News, began writing his memoirs. Although he persisted
with the project until 1990, he died before converting his manuscript into
a coherent, well-organized form. As he expressed it, "Somewhere buried
deep in there is a publishable book." It remained for Susan and Bill
Buzenberg to extract that publishable book.
For those unfamiliar with the career of Richard Salant, he was
responsible for the first move in network television from 15-minute
newscasts to a half-hour program. Salant replaced Douglas Edwards with
Walter Cronkite as the network's nightly news anchor. He hired Mike
Wallace and Dan Rather. He initiated creation of what was to become
perhaps the most controversial documentary ever aired on network
television, "The Selling of the Pentagon." Salant also gave the go-ahead
(eventually) for creation of "60 Minutes," the innovative program that
demonstrated network news actually could turn a profit.
The career of Salant could be summed up in one word: integrity. In
spite of the book's seemingly trite and contrived title, his memoirs really
do, at times, reveal a literal "battle for the soul of broadcast journalism."
Salant was responsible for a number of innovations at CBS, not the least
of which was to create the first policy manual to be compiled and en-
forced by a television network. In his dealings with his staff and his work
with controversial news topics, Salant was clearly a person who lived by
his principles, and it was largely those principles that enabled CBS News
to become the country's most respected network television news opera-
tion.
The book does contain its fair share of the obligatory items we
would expect in any published memoirs from a professional career: an
introduction by a distinguished associate (in this case, Mike Wallace),
praising the author's character, numerous accounts of what "really"
happened in various legendary social and professional exchanges with
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 1 09
other notables, and photographs of the author in the presence of other
well-known faces.
Salant's memoirs do, however, succeed where other such published
accounts have failed, in that much of the material is genuinely fascinating.
His personal involvement in coverage of some of the most noteworthy
news events of the past several decades gave him a unique, first-hand
perspective on such issues as Nixon's attacks on the media, the Watergate
affair and the subsequent resignation of the president, the social unrest of
the late 1960s, and the furor in Congress over the airing of CBS's legend-
ary documentary, "The Selling of the Pentagon."
The book's weakest point, unfortunately, may be that such issues are
the primary focus of only a few chapters. Interest level, for the average
reader, may wane considerably after proceeding from a frank and detailed
discussion of heavy and heated controversies to tamer chapters with such
titles as "What is Bias?" or "What is News?" Even within these latter
chapters, however, Salant supports his conclusions with ample personal
experiences from his involvement in some of the most challenging
controversies of his day.
Perhaps the book's strongest point is the author's unique degree of
honesty. This is not simply a resume of his accomplishments, but an
honest account of his failings and shortcomings as well. The extremely
candid nature of his recollections enhances the interest level and educa-
tional value of the book in a manner found lacking in other memoirs.
Throughout the volume, Salant raises questions that seem to demand
answers, questions regarding the nature of news and its relationship to
entertainment. The reader gains the impression, unfortunately, that with
the passing of Salant something has been permanently lost to network
television news.
>Steven Phipps, University of Missouri at St. Louis
Sartre and the Media
By Michael Scriven, New York: St. Martin's Press, 1993, 194pp.
Jean-Paul Sartre made prolific use of the mass media over very many
years, but there was a missing dimension. Except on a few tangential
occasions he rarely used them as vehicles to treat before mass audiences
the concepts in philosophy which were not only the core, but the entire
substance of his intellectual life. Sartre's existentialism led him naturally
(some have suggested with mystical intensity) not only to engage passion-
ately in the issues of his time, but usually as well to order that engagement
with a fine and existential journalistic detachment. Yet somehow, he
1 1 0 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
always kept his scholarship at arm's length from his public journalism,
held it separately for those few minds that might be trusted to appreciate
and understand.
Unfortunately, Michael Scriven does not deal in any significant way
with this divide between Sartre's journalism and his scholarly writing
(with which one includes his plays and novels). This constitutes the only
important frailty in what is otherwise a unique and welcome accounting
of Sartre's journalism. It's not that Scriven fails to recognize a relationship
between the scholar and the journalist in Sartre. He notes, as others have
done (including Sartre himself) that Sartre enjoyed a certain "transitional
status" in French intellectual life and Western letters generally.
The best understanding of this concept, and of the inferred elitist
undercurrent, derives from Sartre's own observations, his shifting percep-
tion of media technology as it evolved across the long decades of his
productive life. Before WW II, for Sartre the book was everything. It was
only later as he engaged first with newspaper journalism, and still later,
and always much more tenuously, with radio and television, that he
explained:
Naturally, we must silence our qualms of conscience: the book
is of course the most noble and oldest of forms; we will always
have to return to it, but there is literary art to radio broadcast-
ing, to film making and to news reporting ... we need to
learn to speak in images, to transpose the ideas contained in
our books into these new languages.
He adds with transparent arrogance that it is not proper in the use of the
mass media to "lower our standards" as scholars, "but on the contrary, we
should reveal to the public its own requirements, and gradually raise its
sights until it needs (sic) to read."
There is a further transparency which reveals the underlying and
ironic necessity which Sartre recognized in his engagement with the
public media. In Scriven's words:
The post- War period undoubtedly witnessed a struggle
between intellectuals and media magnates for the hearts and
minds of the French people. Progressively the influence of the
intellectuals declined, and that of the media increased. The
story of Sartre's encounter with numerous press publications
... is in effect the story of this progressive decline in the
stature and influence of intellectuals such as Sartre, and the
growing importance of the media.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 1
With few exceptions (the Cuban series of I960 for example) Sartre's
journalism always was at its most engaged and passionate (and usually at
its best as well) when he wrote in France about French issues. Arguably,
his finest journalistic work was also his first, seven articles in Combat
between August 22 and September 4, 1944, Sartre's witness to the
liberation of Paris. Here was straightforward reporting at its finest:
detailed, economical in its use of language, and with that personalizing
degree of comment and analysis which the existentialist frame of mind
enables so well, and which European journalism generally permits more
readily than does the North American tradition.
Here is journalism that is fair, accurate, precise, rich in balanced
comment and, most importantly, not chained to any canon of mechanical
objectivity. Un Promeneur dans Paris Insurged was the series title which
Sartre gave to these articles; in them (strolling through Paris in revolt) he
stood as detached witness to the liberation, writing not only about the
German retreat and the last violent acts of that enemy, but also the soul-
destroying fury of Parisians released from five years of captivity; of the
entrapping and slaughter of occasional pockets of remaining Germans.
Scriven appropriately quotes Sartre's finest line from this remarkable
series, written on a September Saturday during the last moments of the
liberation:
A few more gunshots and its finished . . . finished the week of
glory. The next day will be a very bleak and deserted Sunday, a
real day after the festival. And on Monday the shops will
reopen. Paris will go back to work.
Here is the existential journalistic stance, the sort of thing John C.
Merrill took as an ideal ethical basis for the craft. Merrill might well have
had Sartre's articles on the liberation of Paris in mind when he wrote,
moving away from the false canon of mechanical objectivity, that "the
kind of existential journalism that is realistic and meaningful is a modified
subjective journalism."
Striven does not make much of any of this, but chooses in the main
to present Sartrean journalism as a chronology, beginning with Combat
and the liberation; ending (in any important sense) with stillborn plans
for a radical television series in 1975 by which time Sartre could no longer
see to write.
In November of 1944, just months after the Combat series, the US
Office of War Information, brought Sartre to the United States, where he
generated some 30 articles in two months for both Combat and Le Figaro.
He wrote unremarkably, for the most part. Scriven chronicles it all, and is
1 1 2 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
charitable. There's the lament for Hollywood, which Sartre seems rather
to have sentimentalized, and which he saw about to lose its vigor in the
postwar world; a rote set of labor pieces including less than informed
speculation on a possible post- War return to depression-era labor condi-
tions; bits on such mundane matters as summer heat in the urban Ameri-
can apartment. Scriven also allows the record to make it entirely clear that
Sartre's journalistic visit to the Soviet Union in 1954 was even more
lackluster. In fairness, there was the 1939 agony of the Soviet accord with
the Nazis which left Sartre with something less than unbridled enthusiasm
for the Soviet experiment, but that was now 1 5 years earlier, and the
invasion of Hungary in 1956 (when Sartre finally broke his always
tenuous relationship with the Partie Communiste Franqais) was still two
years away. At home in France, Sartre was actively and creatively, in
journalism and other genres, devoting much energy to social causes, yet
Scriven rightly speaks of the 1954 journalistic product from the USSR
(published in Libdration, and mostly transcriptions of interviews) as a
"rather glib eulogizing of the Soviet state" and without "genuine personal
insight into Soviet society."
Scriven may have had little choice in this first important accounting
of Sartre's journalism but to offer it all up mainly as a chronology. The
detail with which he does this is invaluable, and he is a fine writer who
presents with clarity. The price he pays, however, is to leave incomplete
our understanding of the influence of Sartre's remarkably private intellec-
tual life on his very public life as a journalist. Useful though Scriven's
work most certainly is, there is more to be done, and one hopes that
Michael Scriven may turn his hand to the task. We need to explore the
links between Sartre's philosophies and his journalism.
>Andrew M. Osier, University of Western Ontario
The Troubles of Journalism: A Critical Look at What's
Right and Wrong With the Press.
By William A. Hachten, Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates,
1998, 188 pp.
William A. Hachten's professional experience with journalism and
journalism education spans 50 years. In this compact book, he reflects on
the many changes he has witnessed in the profession. His view is that of a
newspaperman whose career almost precisely coincides with the rise of
television. Television proves to be the major culprit in his critique of the
press, particularly for dismantling the traditional "fire wall" between
journalism and entertainment, and trivializing the news. Scarcely less
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 1 13
culpable is corporate journalism with its bottom-line mentality. When
news media are swallowed up by giant entertainment companies, the press
not only loses its aggressiveness in reporting hard news, but also its nerve
in pursuing the often costly responsibility of defending press freedom.
Hachten laments the decline of public affairs journalism, "the lifeblood of
democracy."
These evaluations of journalism are hardly original. What Hachten
brings to the analysis is context and perspective, including an eye for
historical continuity. The discussion ranges from the theory and values of
the First Amendment to the potential of the Internet for the 21st century.
Hachten argues that the traditional skills of journalism are as much in
demand today as ever to manage the responsible flow of information in
cyberspace. Hachten has a particular interest in foreign affairs reporting
and devotes two of 14 chapters to the topic. One chapter treats the
coverage of Africa as a special case, probing patterns of news neglect. The
overall conclusion of his examination of international news is that an
illusion of expansive coverage exists.
Global electronic communication gives the impression that all
corners of the world are as accessible to us as our television remote
buttons. But Hachten observes that American journalism remains dog-
gedly provincial. News from abroad is actually on the decline. New
technologies have led to fewer foreign correspondents. The ability to get
reporters in and out of locations quickly has led to "parachute journal-
ism." Journalists hop around vast international news beats, no longer
living among the people or cultures they thrust into the news spotlight.
How useful is Hachten's book to historians? There are no historical
revelations here for the scholar. Only one chapter is devoted directly to a
history of the press. However, teachers of media history and their students
can expect modest rewards. For one thing, Hachten speaks across two
generations of time from his own personal experiences of the craft. A
sense of lived history permeates his slant on the contemporary problems
of the media.
In addition, the author has a natural proclivity for narrative. His
account of each topic invariably has a historical dimension. In his chapter
on the press and the military, for example, the reader learns that while
only 500 full-time American reporters at any one time covered World War
II, 1,600 journalists and their technicians crowded into Saudi Arabia to
cover the Persian Gulf War. More is not necessarily better than a few good
journalists, especially if they are free to join military units and report from
the soldier's point of view.
Hachten has a similar lesson for journalism education. He calls for
fewer and better journalism schools that stick to the basics. "By objec-
1 1 4 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
tively and dispassionately gathering all the important news of the day and
making it available to the public, journalism performs an essential public
service for our democracy," he writes. Advertising and public relations, he
advises, do not meet the professional test and should be taught in the
business school. Readers will have to decide for themselves when he is
drawing insight from the past, and when he is merely looking back with
nostalgia.
>Douglas Birkhead, University of Utah
US News Coverage of Racial Minorities: A Sourcebook,
1934-1996.
By Beverly Ann Deepe Keever, Carolyn Martindale, and Mary Ann
Weston, (eds.) Westport, Conn.: Greenwood, 1998, 408 pp.
It comes as no surprise to the reader of this collection that main-
stream news in the United States has typically ignored, stereotyped, and
distorted racial minorities. From coverage of European - Americans'
earliest encounters with Native Americans to the most recent reports of
Hispanic or African American life in urban ghettos, the mainstream press
has reflected the contemporary ideology of white dominance as well as
amplified public prejudices about racial minorities.
What this collection does, however, is provide a comprehensive and
compelling picture of the mainstream media's consistently negative and
damaging treatment of these groups over time. With more racial minori-
ties in the newsroom today and conscious but sporadic attempts being
made to present minorities in a positive fashion, one would expect to see a
substantive change in coverage. But though affirmative action has come
and, alas, gone, and the words "multicultural" and "diversity" have
become a regular part of the vocabulary, it is clear from this work that
racial minorities are still considered outsiders by mainstream media.
As the editors point out, American journalists are influenced not
only by the dominant ideology of the American culture, but also are
bound by time-honored journalistic work codes such as "objectivity,"
timeliness, and crisis- and conflict-oriented reporting. "Old news habits
die hard" and the onus is on news practitioners as well as journalism
educators to consciously, conscientiously, and consistently promote
coverage that reflects accurately the multicultural world in which we live.
US New Coverage of Racial Minorities serves as a valuable resource to
scholars. It provides a clear, concise history of the various racial minorities
in the United States as they have interacted with the dominant power
structure and an exhaustive review of the literature on how the news
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 1 1 5
media treated those groups. It also identifies areas where scholarship is
lacking and indicates fertile ground for further research. The collection
presents individual chapters on five racial groups: Native Americans,
African Americans, Hispanic Americans, Pacific Islanders, and Asian
Americans. Finally, two chapters are devoted specifically to investigative
reporting and the FCC's public interest mandate.
Although the collection's editors chose to focus on the years 1934-
1996, the authors of several individual chapters (notably those on Native
Americans, Asian Americans, and Pacific Islanders) fortunately do not
always follow this mandate and devote considerable discussion to earlier
periods of importance to the group they are discussing. In their chapter
on Native Americans, for example, Mary Ann Weston and John M.
Coward discuss early press coverage of Native Americans from the
colonial period to the Indian Wars in the 19th century. Through this
discussion they identify the emergence of the enduring twin stereotypes of
the Indian as either the noble savage or the savage brute. News about
Indians has "too often been forced into a mold that does not fit the
people or the event," Weston and Coward conclude, and the stereotypes it
perpetuates have driven popular perceptions as well as governmental
action with devastating results. Today, the authors point out, Native
Americans remain near the bottom of indices of income, employment,
education, and health and suffer from chronic institutional neglect.
News coverage of African Americans also is dominated by two
stereotypes — the savage who is a threat to society, or the happy-go-lucky
irresponsible Sambo who is a drain on society's resources. Authors
Carolyn Martindale and Lillian Rae Dunlap find that both stereotypes
have provided a convenient rationale for the denial of equal rights to
African Americans from the days of slavery to the present. According to
the authors, newspaper coverage of African Americans has improved since
the 1920s when they were largely ignored and the 1940s when only
negative news was printed about them. Not only is there more coverage of
African Americans today, but it is more complete and representative, due
partly, perhaps, to the fact that more African Americans are working in
newsrooms than in the past. But, they caution, news coverage continues
to focus on black pathology and to ignore serious problems facing African
Americans.
Michael B. Salwen and Gonzalo R. Soruco provide a comprehensive
discussion of the various ethnic and national groups that fall under the
definition of Hispanic. Despite the individual roots of these groups,
however, both the Anglo public and the mainstream media have histori-
cally failed to differentiate among them. The authors find that, except for
periods during which Hispanics such as the Mexicans and the Cubans
1 1 6 Book Reviews • Fall 1 999
were in conflict with the United States (during which they were depicted
as cruel and bloodthirsty), Hispanics largely were ignored by the media.
Exploited as cheap labor, they only became newsworthy when they
challenged the system or became a threat to white labor or the status quo.
Then the media once again typically portrayed them in negative and
disparaging terms with often devastating results. The authors find that far
from improving, media coverage of Hispanics is regressing. Hispanics are
increasing portrayed as foreigners and a threat, a trend that seems to go
hand-in-hand with the "English First" movement of the 1990s and
persistent efforts to restrict immigration.
The same types of patterns can be found in news coverage of Asian
Americans and Pacific Islanders. When Asian Americans are not portrayed
as traitorous and untrustworthy (the Japanese in World War II and in
1990s business takeovers; the Vietnamese during the Vietnam War), they
are depicted as "model citizens" who work hard and do well in school.
Pacific Islanders, instead, are innocent primitives who have conveniently
faded into the tropical sunset as mainland colonizers confiscate their land
to build their towns, farms, and resorts for mainland settlers and tourists.
Coverage of these people is typically weak, misleading and insulting.
In his discussion of news coverage of Japanese Americans, Thomas
H. Heuterman makes an observation that could well apply to all the racial
minorities discussed in this book — that such coverage too often serves as
an unofficial conduit of hostile government or public opinion. "[The
press'] failure of social responsibility and its silence on Constitutional
issues demonstrate a continuing crisis for all of us."
> Elizabeth V. Burt, University of Hartford
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 1 17
Fall 1999
118
American Journalism
Volume 16 Index
Winter (1), Spring (2), Summer (3), and Fall (4), 1999
Compiled by Timi Ross Poeppelman, Assistant Editor
Author Index
Abrahamson, David.
Reviewed: The Electronic Grapevine: Rumor, Reputation and
Reporting in the New On-line Environment by Diane L. Borden and
Kerric Harvey (eds.), 16:3, 115-117.
Allen, Craig.
Reviewed: Masterpieces of Reporting: Volume 1 by Wm. David Sloan
and Cheryl S. Wray (eds.), 16:3, 1 17-119.
Antecol, Michael.
Reviewed: Media and Public Life by Everette E. Dennis & Robert W.
Synder (eds.), 16:1, 147-149.
Baldasty, Gerald J.
E.W. Scripps Papers Provide An Important Journalistic Window for
Scholars (a Great Ideas submission), 16:1, 133-141.
Baldwin, Tamara.
Reviewed: Rampant Women Suffragists and the Right of Assembly by
Linda Lumsden, 16:2, 130-132.
Banning, Stephen A.
"Truth Is Our Ultimate Goal" : A Mid- 19th Century Concern for
Journalism Ethics, 16:1, 17-39.
Baylan, J. O.
Reviewed: Fleet Street Around the Clock by Gordon Allan London,
16:2, 126-128.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 119
Bekken, Jon.
Reviewed: Public Journalism and Public Life: Why Telling the News is
Not Enough by Davis "Buzz" Merritt, 16:4, 107-109.
Benjamin, Louise.
Reviewed: Live, Direct, and Biased? Making Television News in the
Satellite Age by Brent MacGregor, 16:4, 104-105.
Birkhead, David.
Reviewed: The Troubles of Journalism: A Critical Look at What's
Right and Wrong with the Press by William A. Hachten, 16:4, 113-115.
Blackwood, Roy E.
Reviewed: Dispatches from the Revolution: Russia 1916-1918 by
Morgan Phillips, 16:2, 124-126.
Burrowes, Carl Patrick.
"In Common with Colored Men, I Have Certain Sentiments" : Black
Nationalism and Hilary Teage of the Liberia Herald, 16:3, 17-35.
Burt, Elizabeth V.
Dissent and Control in a Woman Suffrage Periodical: 30 Years of the
Wisconsin Citizen, 16:2, 39-61.
Reviewed: US News Coverage of Racial Minorities: A Sourcebook,
1934-1996 by Beverly Ann Deepe Keever, Carolyn Martindale, and
Mary Ann Weston (eds.), 16:4, 115-117.
Campbell, W. Joseph.
"One of the fine figures of American journalism" : A Closer Look at
Josephus Daniels of the Raleigh News and Observer, 16:4, 37-55.
Chiu, Herman B.
Power of the Press: How Newspapers in Four Communities Erased
Thousands of Chinese from Oregon History, 16:1, 59-77.
Cronin, Mary M.
"Those Who Toil and Spin": Female Textile Operatives' Publications
in New England and the Response to Working Conditions, 1840-
1850, 16:2, 17-37.
120 Index •Fall 1999
Davies, David R.
Reviewed: Darwinian Myths: The Legends and Misuses of a Theory
by Edward Caudill, 16:3, 114-115.
Dillon, Michael J.
From Populist to Patrician: Edward H. Butler's Buffalo News and the
Crisis of Labor, 1877-1892, 16:1,41-58.
English, Kathy.
Reviewed: Studies in Newspaper and Periodical History: 1995 Annual
by Michael Harris and Tom O'Malley (eds.), 16:1, 154-155.
Ferre, John P.
Reviewed: PR! A Social History of Spin by Stuart Ewen, 16:1, 151-
153.
Reviewed: Robert Worth Bingham and the Southern Mystique: From
the Old South to the New South and Beyond by William E. Ellis,
16:2, 132-134.
Garrard, Ted.
Reviewed: Pragmatic Fundraising for College Administrators and
Development Officers by Ralph Lowenstein, 16:1, 153-154.
Hamilton, James.
Common Forms for Uncommon Actions: The Search for Political
Organizations in California's Dust Bowl, 16:1, 79-103.
Reviewed: Wireless: Strategically Liberalizing the Telecommunications
Market by Brian J. W Regli, 16:1, 156-157.
Hamm, Bradley J.
Redefining Racism: Newspaper Justification for the 1924 Exclusion
of Japanese Immigrants, 16:3, 53-69.
Henry, Susan.
"There is nothing in this profession . . . that a woman cannot
do": Doris E. Fleischman and the Beginnings of Public Relations,
16:2,85-111.
Fall 1 999 • American Journalism 121
Holman, Andrew C.
Reviewed: French Newspapers' Opinion on the American Civil War
by George M. Blackburn, 16: 2, 129-130.
Johnson, Owen V.
Reviewed: As Long as Sarajevo Exists by Kemal Kurspahic, 16:3, 109-
111.
Kilmer, Paulette d.
Flying Around the World in 1889 — In Search of the Archetypal
Wanderer, 16:2, 63-84.
Kitch, Carolyn.
Rethinking Objectivity in Journalism and History: What Can We
Learn from Feminist Theory and Practice? (a Great Ideas submis-
sion), 16:2, 113-120.
Family Pictures: Constructing the "Typical" American in 1920s
Magazines, 16:4, 57-75.
Reviewed: Press Freedom and Development, Bibliography by Clement
E.Asante, 16:4, 105-106.
Lueck, Therese.
Women's Moral Reform Periodicals of the 19th Century: A Cultural
Feminist Analysis, 16:3, 37-52.
Marrs, John Merton.
Project Chariot, Nuclear Zeal, Easy Journalism and the Fate of
Eskimos, 16:3,71-98.
Mueller, Jim.
Reviewed: Joint Operating Agreements: The Newspaper Preservation
Act and Its Applications by John C. Busterna and Robert G. Picard,
16:1, 145-147.
Osler, Andrew M.
Reviewed: Sartre and the Media by Michael Scriven, 16:4, 110-113.
122 Index -Fall 1999
Ostman, Ronald E.
Reviewed: American Photojournalism Comes of Age by Michael L.
Carlebach, 16:3, 106-109.
Phipps, Steven.
Reviewed: Salant, CBS, and the Battle for the Soul of Broadcast
Journalism: The Memoirs of Richard S. Salant by Susan and Bill
Buzenberg, 16:4, 109-110.
Poe, G. Tom.
Reviewed: The World According to Hollywood: 1918 to 1939 by
RuthVasey, 16:2, 134-136.
Rjsley, Ford.
The Savannah Morning News As, a Penny Paper: Independent, But
Hardly Neutral, 16:4, 19-36.
Russomanno, Joseph A.
Reviewed: Tombstone's Epitaph by Douglas D. Martin, 16:2, 136-
139.
Smith, Michael R.
My Newspaper is Older Than Your Newspaper! (a Great Ideas
submission), 16:3,99-101.
Spencer, David R.
Reviewed: The Black Press: Soldiers Without Swords (Video) by
California Newsreel, 16:1, 143-145.
Reviewed: BigTrouble by J. Anthony R. Lukas, 16:2, 121-123.
Reviewed: Comic Strips and the Consumer Culture: 1890-1945 by
Ian Gordon, 16:3, 103-106.
Reviewed: The Collected Writings of Walt Whitman: The Journalism,
Volume 1: 1834-1846 by Herbert Bergman, 16:4, 101-103.
Fall 1999 • American Journalism 123
Startt, James D.
1998 Presidential Address: The Historiographical Tradition in 20th
Century America, 16:1, 105-131.
Streitmatter, Rodger, Guest Editor.
Conservative Media: A Different Kind of Diversity, 16:4, 9-11.
Vipond, Mary.
Reviewed: The Carnivalization of Politics: Quebec Cartoons on
Relations with Canada, England, and France, 1960-1979 by
Raymond N. Morris, 16:3, 112-113.
Weill, Susan.
Conserving Racial Segregation in 1954: Brown v. Board of Education
and the Mississippi Daily Press, 16:4, 77-99.
Wilhoit, Frances.
Reviewed: Museum of Broadcast Communications Encyclopedia of
Television, 3 vols. By Horace Newcomb (ed.), Cary O'Dell (Photo
Editor), and Noelle Watson (Commissioning Editor), 16:1, 149-151.
124 Index -Fall 1999
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