Showing posts with label BenedictCollege. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BenedictCollege. Show all posts

Saturday, April 4, 2026

A War Hero turned Communist Worker?: Lewis Smith's military service

Aleck Lewis Smith was one of the professors that the governor of South Carolina publicly accused of being a "communist worker." When I first started researching the governor's accusations, all I knew was that Smith was employed by Benedict College, and that he was accused of the following: 

The governor's claims about Smith

Taken at face value, Smith's dishonorable discharge from the Navy is one of the most notable accusations. The others were considerably thinner: Forrest O. Wiggins was accused of having a subscription to the National Guardian newspaper, Rideout of being a member of the Progressive Party during the 1948 election. Today I got a copy of Smith's notice of separation from the Navy, so I can now seriously evaluate the governor's accusations.

The most important fact? The governor was wrong! Smith was discharged on March 1, 1955 because of lack of progress. There was nothing suspicious about this. In 1955, Smith was a middle-aged English professor who had been in the Naval reserves for a decade. He had little to offer the Navy, and he certainly had better things to do. There was nothing unusual about his discharge for "lack of progress."

Notice that Smith was discharged from the Navy

The governor also left a lot out. Whatever Smith's politics were, he had served in the U.S. Navy with distinction. He enlisted on November 11, 1940. Smith left no record of his reasons for joining, but he had just graduated from college, and the Navy offered a promising career path for men like him. During the winter of 1940, the U.S. Navy was rapidly expanding as everyone anticipated that America would soon enter the Second World War. 

The war, of course, began for America in December 1941, following the Attack on Pearl Harbor. Smith spent most of the war stationed on the USS North Carolina, a fast battleship. The North Carolina was in the Pacific for almost the entire duration of the war, and it was used to screen aircraft carriers and cover troop carriers. The ship saw combat and was even torpedoed twice during the Guadalcanal campaign. 

In February 1944, Smith was transferred to the USS Pasadena. The Pasadena was a light cruiser, a smaller and more modern ship than the North Carolina. However, it performed a similar service: screening aircraft carriers. 

On both ships, Smith served as a damage control specialist. This was an important and stressful role on a battleship that saw combat. Uncontrolled fires could be catastrophic as the North Carolina was loaded with fuel and ammunition. Combat was an especially intense time. When the ship was torpedoed, fire broke out, and the ship took on tons of water, and damage control specialists had minutes to limit the damage and save the ship, and its crew, from destruction.

At the end of the war, Smith was awarded a bronze star for participating in the liberation of the Philippines and three additional bronze stars and two silver stars for service in the Pacific theater. These awards honor his participation in fourteen separate campaigns, an impressive record of military service by any measure. 

Smith left active service shortly after the surrender of the Empire of Japan, on October 28, 1945. Although he remained in the Naval reserves for a decade, he appears to have lost interest in the military. He moved to the midwest and went into higher education. He does not appear to have recorded his thoughts about his naval service, but his activities suggest mixed feelings. He married a Japanese woman and, in 1970, moved to Hiroshima, Japan, where he lived for two decades.

Smith's trajectory is suggestive of one seen with other men his age. Shocked by the destruction he witnessed during the Second World War and deeply concerned about the prospect of nuclear war, he rejected mainstream American politics, deeming it inadequate to the moment. He explored ideas like communism as they offered an alternative, but in Jim Crow South Carolina, even such modest actions made one a target for state politicians. Whatever his political beliefs, Smith certainly represented some of the best of mid-century America. He not only served the country with distinction during war, but during peace, he endured a dishonest political attack made for an abominable goal and he did so with dignity.

Monday, April 14, 2025

Lewis Smith: A communist "punk" from Iowa


Lewis Smith
Harvard University Yearbook 1939
     

Of the seven professors that the governor of South Carolina accused of being communist workers, the most mysterious was Benedict College professor, Lewis Smith. Smith only taught briefly at Benedict, and with nothing more than a common name to go on, I had a hard time tracking down information about him.

The governor only offered the slightest details in his speech accusing Benedict of harboring communists. While the other professors had lengthy records of political activity, the governor dismissed Lewis as "still a punk but given time may develop." The governor claimed that he had been dishonorably discharged from the US Navy as a security risk and had been a member of the Communist Party from 1949 to 1951. For a long time, this was all the information I had to go on.

Just today I stumbled into more information. Smith earned a PhD from the University of Iowa, and the catalogue entry includes both Smith's birth year and his full name: Aleck Lewis Smith. This information made it possible to connect Smith with a number of other records and helped sketch out a remarkable life.

Aleck Lewis Smith was born on August 14, 1916 to Jane Laura and Aleck Smith Sr. Records are conflicting as to whether he was born in Iowa City, Iowa or in White Plains, New York. In any case, his family was living on Long Island by 1930. It's not entirely clear what the father did for work. The 1920 census describes him as a producer for moving pictures, his World War I draft card says he was an advertising manager, and the 1930 census describes him as a credit manager for a dry goods store. 

It appears that Lewis's parents divorced in the early 1920s. In 1923, his father married another woman (Katherine McKeever). Lewis moved to Iowa and first lived with his uncle, Roy Leslie Smith. The father remained in New York City, but his mother moved to Iowa a few years later. She and Lewis lived together in Sioux City where she found work as a public school teacher.

For college, Lewis attended Cornell College in Mount Vernon, Iowa for three years. Before completing his degree, he transferred to Harvard University. He graduated with an English degree from Harvard a year later (in 1939).

The year after he graduated college (on August 12, 1940), Lewis joined the US Navy. Although he joined before America entered the Second World War, the Navy was trying to expand in anticipation of armed conflict. As part of that effort, it created an expedited naval officer training program, the US Navy Reserve Midshipmen's School. Lewis attended the school and then was commissioned as a lieutenant. He spent the duration of the war in the Pacific on surface warships such as the USS North Carolina.

While the governor of South Carolina claimed that Lewis was dishonorably discharged from the Navy in 1955, it appears that Lewis had left the Navy before then. By 1948, he had moved back to Iowa. While in the Navy, Lewis had married a woman named Harriet Ruth Cannon. However, the marriage failed, and they were divorced by 1950. Later that year, he was married a second time, this time to a woman named Claire Bradley. However, this marriage failed as well, and they divorced a year later. 

While in Iowa, Lewis began pursuing a PhD in English at the University of Iowa. He also worked at the Gary Division of the University of Indiana as a research assistant in the Home Study Department. He may have also taught at the University of Chicago (he and Claire were married in the city). Lewis graduated in 1953 with a dissertation titled Changing conceptions of God in colonial New England.

After graduating, Lewis was hired as an associate professor by Knoxville College. His employment there is interesting. The college is a small historically Black college in Knoxville, Tennessee. Lewis had never lived in the South before, and it's unclear how much interaction he would have had with African Americans prior to teaching at the college.

Lewis's time at Knoxville was brief but very significant. It was there that he met his third wife, Kiyoko Nagai. Kiyoko was a Japanese woman who had made the remarkable decision to travel overseas to study  at Knoxville College. Kiyoko had a difficult time when she first arrived on campus. She had learned English by working with a tutor from London who taught her proper British English. The tutoring left her wholly unprepared to understand the thickly accented speech of Black students in the south. Lewis was asked to help her by tutoring her, and it was during those tutoring sessions that they fell in love. Unlike Lewis's earlier marriages, this one was a long-lasting success. 

It's unclear what Lewis did immediately after leaving Benedict College. Kiyoko pursued a masters degree from Adelphi University (in New York City) and worked as a researcher at the University of Texas, so Lewis may have found employment there.

Around 1970, Lewis made the adventuresome decision to move to Hiroshima, Japan and work as a teacher. Kiyoko had lived in the city before moving to the United States, and around 1970, she and Lewis traveled there to visit Kiyoko's mother, who was in poor health. Lewis fell in love with the county, so they decided to stay there and teach. He remained there for eighteen years.

Lewis left Japan in the early 1990s to move to Canada. He first lived in Ontario and then in Victoria. He remained in Victoria until his death on March 15, 2012.

Sources

1. Year: 1920; Census Place: Hempstead, Nassau, New York; Roll: T625_1128; Page: 1B; Enumeration District: 39

2. Year: 1930; Census Place: Sioux City, Woodbury, Iowa; Page: 3A; Enumeration District: 0067; FHL microfilm: 2340425

3. National Archives at Washington, DC; Washington, D.C.; Seventeenth Census of the United States, 1950; Year: 1950; Census Place: Sioux City, Woodbury, Iowa; Roll: 2314; Page: 17; Enumeration District: 103-71

4. State Historical Society of Iowa (via Heritage Quest); Microfilm of Iowa State Censuses, 1856, 1885, 1895, 1905, 1915, 1925 as well various special censuses from 1836-1897

5. "New Professors." The Knoxville Journal Sun, Jun 14, 1953 ·Page 20.

6. "Knoxville C. Names 5 New Staff Members." New Pittsburgh Courier
Sat, Jun 20, 1953 ·Page 11

7. New York City Department of Records & Information Services; New York City, New York; New York City Marriage Licenses; Borough: Manhattan; Year: 1941

8. State Historical Society of Iowa (via Heritage Quest); Microfilm of Iowa State Censuses, 1856, 1885, 1895, 1905, 1915, 1925 as well various special censuses from 1836-1897

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Horace Bancroft Davis: Radicalized in Wartime France

Horace Bancroft Davis was born on August 10, 1898 in Newport, Rhode Island to Anna and Horace Andrew Davis. The Davis family had deep roots in the northeast. Horace's ancestors had come to America during the 17th century. Anna's family were Quakers, and her father and grandfather had been active in the abolition movement. Before the Civil War, her grandfather's home was a stop on the Underground Railroad. Her father, Norwell Penrose Hallowell, served in the Civil War. He commended one of the first Union regiments of African Americans troops, the 55th Massachusetts and led them in the Battle of Fort Wagner (featured in the film Glory).

Horace B.'s family enjoyed major financial security when he was growing up. They received a steady income from financial returns from a pharmaceuticals company (the Angier Chemical Company) that his grandfather had helped found. Horace B.'s father earned a law degree from Harvard University and once maintained a law practice, but he did little legal work and largely supported the family though the income from the grandfather's company and other investments. 

The family moved to Staten Island (in New York City) when Horace B. was young. They moved a second time, to Boston, when Horace B. was a teenager (in 1911). The family settled into the town of Brookline, and Horace B. attended a private school (the Country Day School for Boys of Boston) in the neighboring town of Newton.

Horace B.'s father was active in the Republican party and once received the party's nomination for New York state legislature. Members of Horace's extended family carried on the tradition set by Anna's abolitionist ancestors. One of Horace B.'s cousins taught at a black school in the south, the Calhoun Colored School. Based in Lowndes County, Alabama, the Calhoun School had been founded in 1892 to provide practical training, in the spirit of Booker T. Washington's Tuskegee Institute.

Horace visited the Calhoun School for one winter vacation while a high school student. Towards the end of 1916, he began having some health issues. To help him recover, his cousin invited him to stay with her as Alabama offered a much milder winter than Boston as well as outdoor opportunities like horseback riding. 

Horace B.'s visit to Alabama was his first time in the south. On the visit, he got to know black sharecroppers as his horseback rides took him through the farming area that surrounded the Calhoun School. Horace recalled the environment around the school as largely apolitical. Teachers focused on training students for skilled trades and avoided discussion over issues like political rights. However, students and teachers did celebrate holidays of special significance to Blacks. Horace participated in a January 1 celebration of Emancipation Day. Other participants included people who had personally experienced slavery. When asked, they would discuss their experiences, which they recalled as horrible and traumatic, but they preferred to avoid such discussions. In general, Horace B. recalled that the atmosphere was "forward-looking," and people avoided dwelling on the horrors of slavery.

Horace B. got to see more of the south on his return trip to Boston. His cousin took him to several HBCUs, including the Tuskgee Institute, Morehouse College, and the Hampton Institute. Horace recalled being impressed by buildings at Tuskgee, especially by the fact that they'd largely been built by the institute's own students.

Horace At Harvard

After graduating from high school (around 1917), Horace began attending Harvard University. This was somewhat of a family tradition. Not only was his father an alumnus of the university, but Horace's older brother Hallowell was a student. However, Horace's studies were interrupted by the First World War.

The United States entered the war in spring 1917, shortly before Horace began university studies. The Davis family was divided over the war. Horace's father approved of the war effort as he generally was a strong supporter of President Wilson. He became active in the war effort after he was recruited to move to Washington D.C. and serve on the Committee on Public Information (a propaganda agency created to promote enthusiasm for the war). Among his other activities on the committee, he authored a 1918 Fourth of July statement issued by the president.

Horace's mother was opposed to the war. She reached this opinion after consulting with the writing of Quakers on pacifism. Horace became convinced by her argument, and he joined her in opposing the war. 

Horace B. Davis, circa 1917
From a 1917 passport application

Horace was never drafted into the military, but he decided to leave university to perform war-related humanitarian work. He volunteered for the American Friends Service Committee, a newly founded, Quaker-run organization. The committee was created to provide non-military service opportunities for people who wanted to be involved in the war effort. Horace was sent to Ornans, France to help build portable housing that would be shipped near the frontlines. Unfortunately, the health problems Horace had experienced a few years earlier returned. He was hospitalized in Ornans and then went to Samoëns (in the French Alps). During the last few of the months, he stayed in Paris.

Horace's work put him in some danger. While he was living there, Paris experienced nightly air raids and artillery bombardments. A greater danger for volunteers in the Friends Service was the influenza epidemic then raging through Europe. A number of volunteers that Horace knew fell ill, and a few even died. 

Horace regarded his volunteer service as a major event in his political development. The work put him in close contact with political objectors, and he was exposed to left-wing ideas. By the end of his service, his views on the war had changed. He continued to oppose it, but now for political reasons rather than religious ones.

In total, Horace spent the last sixteen months of the war in France working for the Friends Service. Afterwards, he returned to Boston and resumed his studies at Harvard University. He returned a changed man. He had become deeply interested in the labor movement and decided that he wanted to work as a labor intellectual. At university, he changed his major from English to Economics. 

Horace's mother had also become interested in left-wing politics, especially labor issues, during the war. Her interests developed through conversations with several leftist activists she hosted as guests. A major influence on her was the labor economist Robert W. Dunn. Horace never wrote about how his mother got to know Dunn, but they likely knew each other through common social connections. Both were raised as Quakers in Pennsylvania, and Dunn served in the American Friends Service Committee.

Horace and his mother became actively involved in the labor movement in early 1919. That February immigrant workers in the mill town of Lawrence went on strike to protest a decrease in wages. Many liberals in Boston were supportive of the strike, and three Boston pastors, Abraham Muste, Harold Rotzel, and Cedric Long, acted as spokesmen and leaders of the strike. Horace's mother knew the pastors because they all had been involved in the anti-war movement, and she and Horace joined them in supporting the strike.

Horace's activities included regular trips to Lawrence with other Bostonians to speak at meetings of strikers. Mill management together with the Lawrence city administration responded harshly to the strike. Horace recalled once traveling to Lawrence by train with twenty other activists. Upon arriving at the train station, they were met by a detachment of mounted police who rode their horses up to the sidewalk in an effort to intimidate and provoke the activists. Their efforts were unsuccessful, and Horace was able to participate in a strike meeting and then return to Boston without major incident. Other efforts were more disruptive. The pastors Musta and Long were once beaten by police and then arrested for inciting a riot. Two immigrant strike leaders were kidnapped, beaten, and left in another city. Despite the police violence, the workers were ultimately victorious. After four months, the mill owners agreed to a wage increase larger than the one strikers had originally demanded, and the strike ended.

That spring, a friend of Horace's (Arthur Fisher) planned to spend the summer working for a farmers' political organization, the National Nonpartisan League. The League was based in North Dakota and promoted a mildly socialist program that included state ownership of banks and agricultural facilities (like grain elevators) and state supported social programs like health insurance. Horace found the League's program appealing, and he traveled to Minnesota and spent the summer working as an organizer in Murray County.

Most of Horace's work for the League consisted of visiting farmers house-to-house and hosting meetings in schoolhouses. He succeeded in enrolling over one-hundred farmers in the League. Horace found it personally rewarding to see farming first-hand. Despite his success, he found that the work was a poor fit for him because he was too introverted. At the end of summer, he returned to his college studies.

Harvard provided Horace with an environment to explore his interest in left-wing politics. In spring 1919, students formed the Student Liberal Club. One of the first activities was to host a series of lectures on the then on-going Russian Revolution. The speakers included the statistician J. A. Hourwich and the war correspondent Colonel B. Roustam-Bek. Initially, Horace was blocked from joining the club because of personal issues with the cub leader of the club, but he later was able to join and even played a leadership role.

Horace found the Harvard administration generally to be conservative, but they were receptive to bringing left-wing speakers to campus to debate conservative professors. In December 1920, the Student Liberal Club hosted a discussion on "The Types of Socialism" with representatives of several socialist parties. The physician and activist Antoinette Konikow spoke about the Communist Labor Party (a forerunner of the CPUSA), the magazine editor Harry W. Laidler about the Socialist Party, and John T. "Red" Doran about the Industrial Workers of the World. The conservative Harvard economist Richard S. Merriam attended and debated the speakers. Horace was especially impressed with Doran. After introducing him, Merriam challenged him by asking, why should Harvard students be interested in socialism when they already have excellent opportunities to join the most privileged classes in America? Doran responded: "Circumstances will make you socialists." He proceeded to tell the audience about the repression that the IWW had experienced. In 1916, a group of about three hundred IWW members who had traveled to Everett, Washington to support a strike by shingle workers were attacked by over two hundred police officers and deputized vigilantes. The attack left at least five dead and more than twenty injured. The next year the Justice Department, newly empowered by federal laws created to support the war effort, raided IWW meeting halls and charged one hundred and one members with violations of the Espionage Act and similar laws. Horace reported that his argument was "big hit" with the audience.

During his senior year, Horace took advanced courses on economics with professors Frank Willliam Taussig, Allyn A. Young, and William Z. Ripley. The classes were a mixed bag. Ripley's class was on labor theory, and it was a "washout." Horace said Ripley didn't know the subject and showed up to lecture unprepared. The other two professors taught courses on theory. He said that Young's class was his favorite, but Taussig had a big impact on his teaching style. Taussig taught following the Socratic method, and Horace used the same method once he started teaching.

In general, Horace wrote he really enjoyed his courses. He especially enjoyed the courses he took on anthropology and drama. 

The faculty member who had the greatest influence on Horace was Harold J. Laski, a lecturer in the government and history departments. Laski was regarded as the most left-wing faculty member on campus. In fall 1919, he attracted negative attention for speaking out in support of a strike by Boston police officers. Among the more liberal students, Laski was a well-regarded teacher who was known for regularly hosting students, including Horace, at his home. 

At Laski's suggestion, Horace spent the summer after his junior year (in the year 1920) in England doing volunteer work for the Labour Research Department. The Department mostly researched information for Labour Party M.P.'s to use in their speeches. Horace's work involved estimating the minimum wage rates over a period of years. He also used his time in England to visit a few industrial cities, to meet with union leaders and workers, and to participate in trade union conferences. At the end of the summer, Horace returned to America impressed by the "greater solidarity and outright strength of the British union movement."

Horace B. Davis, circa 1920
From The Harvard Freshman Red Book, 1920

Horace graduated from Harvard the next year. By this time, he had decided he wanted to work as a researcher for labor organization. However, he found that, in contrast to Europe, no such jobs were available in America. He decided instead to try to find work in the steel industry. In the summer of 1921, he left Boston for Pittsburg, a major center in the steel industry. 

Horace traveled by hitchhiking and (illegally) hoping trains. Along the way, he picked up work when he could. He worked as an agricultural laborer and as a construction worker in Steelton and Jeanette (cities in Pennsylvania). When he finally arrived in Pittsburg, he found that his travels were for naught. There was an economic downturn, and steel mills were not hiring. Horace decided to head south for Clarksburg, West Virginia. In Clarksburg, he found a few days work at a plate mill and then continued his travels. 

After leaving Clarksburg, Horace ran into trouble. He had (illegally) hoped a passenger train, and when the train arrived in the town of Piedmont, he was caught and arrested by a station cop. After learning Horace's identity, the cop became almost apologetic. He explained that he had mistaken Horace for a boy who had escaped from a nearby reformatory. Despite this, he still put Horace in jail.

The day after he was arrested, the cop informed Horace that the railroad company had decided to prosecute him for trespass and a company lawyer was on his way. The cop further explained that Horace would likely be sentenced to thirty days roadwork. He then left, only to come back a few minutes later. He released Horace from his cell, returned his personal belongings, and explained how to cross the border to Maryland (where he'd be free from West Virginia law). Horace asked if he would need to return later to stand trial. The cop said no and encouraged Horace to leave. When he checked his wallet, Horace realized that the cop's benevolence had not come for free: $10 was missing. The cop explained that this had been taken for "bail money."

Horace did not need further encouragement, and he left the jail for Maryland. By the time he crossed the border, it was late, so he slept in a barn. The next morning, he hitched a ride to Baltimore and then took a train to New York City. His experiences "on the bum" evidently made academic life seem more appealing. The day after he arrived in New York City – two days after he'd been arrested in West Virginia – he enrolled in Columbia University's graduate program in economics.

Graduate School

Horace enrolled Columbia University without any real enthusiasm for academics. His heart was in the labor movement. Despite this, he had a successful first year. His undergraduate coursework at Harvard had fully prepared him for Columbia graduate program, and he successfully passed his general exams that year, a year earlier than most students.  

Horace spent considerable time at the New School for Social Research which was home to a number of left-wing thinkers. Among those at the school was the celebrated economist and sociologist Thorstein Veblen. During his first semester, Horace attended Veblen's class, but it was "a washout." The class was held in a room that was connected to Veblen's lodgings. At the appointed hour, Veblen would walk into the classroom, lecture for an hour in front of twelve students seated around a table, and then leave. By December, Horace had dropped the course.

More influential was the economist Leo Wolman. In addition to his faculty position, he was director of research for the Amalgamated Clothing Workers Union. This was exactly the sort of work that Horace was interested in. Horce attended a labor seminar that Wolman ran. Although Horace was uninterested in completing a dissertation, at Wolman's suggestion, he became interested in writing a book on the New York building trades. 

Beyond the university, Horace developed a social circle of left-wing thinkers that included the legal scholar Karl Llewellyn and the psychologist Gardner Murphy. Conversations with them helped solidify Horace's political ideas. 

Towards the end of his first year in graduate school, Horace was encouraged to apply for a job in the International Labor Office in Geneva. Such a position was attractive as it would provide Horace with an opportunity to learn about European labor movements first-hand. He received a job and left for Geneva in fall 1922. He traveled to Europe via an Italian ocean liner, and he used the opportunity to study Italian. Unfortunately, during the voyage, he was seriously injured. Years earlier, he had suffered a sports injury to his knee, and one day during his trip, something in the knee "snapped," and he became immobilized. As a result, when he arrived in Geneva, he had to postpone starting his job to recuperate. 

When he finally started working for the Interational Labor Office, Horace was disappointed by his duties. He was largely responsible for reading newspapers for the Labor Office's information service. This worsened his health problems. The lighting in his office was poor, and after some time, the strain on his eyes developed into a permanent eyesight problem. For the remainder of his life, he would only be able to read text for a few hours a day.

By the end of 1922, Horace decided to leave the job in Geneva and focus on his health. At their invitation, he stayed with two on his cousins at their house on the Balearic Islands (off the coast of Spain). Horace continued to have problems with his knee, and he spent most of his visit bedridden. 

He returned to America in 1923. He continued to focus on his health, staying at his parents' home in Brookline (near Boston). His time in the Boston area brought him into contact with the local Communist Party. The CPUSA leader Harrison George stayed at his family's home. He invited Horace to join the communist party, but he declined as he decided the party's politics conflicted with his own on matters such as pacifism.

Horace felt fully recovered from knee problems by fall 1924. Wanting first-hand experience working in industry, he set out for second time for Pittsburg to find a job in steel. 

Repeating his trip from a few years earlier, Horace hopped trains and hitchhiked his way to Pittsburgh. This time he met with greater success. He found employment at the Edgar Thomson Steel Works, part of the U.S. Steel Corporation. The steel mill drew workers from all over. Working at the plant, Horace met Blacks from the south as well as immigrants from Italy and the former Austro-Hungarian Empire. Mill workers were divided along racial lines with immigrants holding most of the semi-skilled jobs. 

Relations between the new arrivals and the long-time workers could be tense. Horace rented a room from a white American who been working as a steel worker for twenty years. He would complain that immigrants were flooding the labor market as they had large families and were willing to accept low wages. While Horace was renting from him, the landlord was a member of the Ku Klux Klan. Horace was surprisingly non-critical of his Klan membership. He wrote that his landlord was drawn to the Klan by its anti-immigrant politics and the social access it offered (in Pittsburgh, the Klan was a middle-class organization, so it provided social opportunities that were otherwise unavailable to a working-class man like the landlord). 

The Pennsylvania Klan was at the height of its influence during the 1920s. In an intimidating demonstration of its power, the Klan burned a cross on a hill overlooking Pittsburgh while Horace was living in the city. At the time, the Klan focused on advocating for anti-immigrant policies and for alcohol prohibition. Surprisingly, anti-Black racism was not a major feature of the Klan even though the city's Black population was growing rapidly.

At the steel plant, Horace was first employed on a labor gang that was responsible for cleaning up the yard, a menial position. He held that position for a short time and was then assigned to a six-man team responsible for tapping a blast furnace (i.e. removing molten pig iron). Horace was surprised to find the work less exhausting than he was expecting. The processes of took about forty minutes, but then the team would wait for hours until the furnace needed to be tapped again. Workers on the team had much of that time to themselves and could even nap if they wanted to. Horace used this free time to explore the steel plant and study other aspects of its operations. Wanting to better understand the work done at the mill, he took several other jobs including that of ore dumper.

While working at the steel mill, Horace tried to join the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steel Workers, one of the major steel workers' unions and a precursor to the United Steelworkers. Unfortunately for Horace, he tried joining at an inopportune time. Five years earlier, shortly after the end of World War I, steel companies had decisively defeated a national steelworkers strike (the Steel Strike of 1919) led by the Amalgamated Association. During the 1920s, there was no major effort at union organizing in the steel industry. Horace went so far as to travel to the Amalgamated Association's headquarters and met with the union president, Michael F. Tighe. However, at the meeting, Tighe lectured against organizing strikes and declined to admit Horace into the union.

In spring 1925, Horace attended a meeting of regional meeting of Quakers (a Young Friends Conference) and organized a workshop on industrial relations. Horace came away from the meeting feeling like the Quakers were not an effective movement for labor organizing. While the Quakers had been a large part of his introduction to left-wing politics, he would become decreasingly involved with the religion.

After working in the steel industry for a year, Horace decided to return to Columbia University. He remained indifferent to academic life but decided that teaching was a good way to earn an income. He was able to secure an appointment as an instructor in Columbia's Economics Department for the 1924-25 year. The next year, he moved to Cornell University to fill in for an economics professor (Sumner Slichter) who was on leave. 

While at Cornell, Horace received a job offer from the University of California at Berkeley. However, he declined the offer in favor of a scholarship (the Amherst Scholarship) that allowed him to travel abroad and conduct research for his dissertation. Horace spent the next two years in various European countries, studying labor issues there. He and his family lived in Middlesbrough, England; Paris, France, and Dortmund, Germany.

Horace's fellowship was renewed for a third year, and he decided to return to Pittsburgh to continue his study of the steel industry. He arrived in 1928 and settled into a home near Schenley Park, near a steel mill (the Jones and Laughlin mill) he wanted to study.

When he arrived in the city, labor activity centered on the coal industry. State-wide, workers had been organized in the United Mine Workers (UMW) union, but workers unhappy with the union were working with the American Communist Party (CPUSA) to form a new union, the National Miners Union (NMU). This new union was small, and its membership was largely new immigrants from eastern and Southern Europe.

The NMU held a national convention that began on September 9. The first day was chaos. Because of communist involvement, the city police were hostile to the union, and they showed up to arrest participants. NMU members also had to contend with UMW toughs who showed to assault people.

Horace was present at the convention, and when the police showed up, he along with many union leaders fled by automobile. They went to a suburb, Wilmerding, that was outside the jurisdiction of city police. There, the convention resumed at the hall of a Lithuanian fraternal order sympathetic to the union. 

Tensions died down the next day. A judge released the arrested NMU members after asking them to take a anti-communism oath. Horace and some left-wing professors at the University of Pittsburg were able to have a meeting with the city mayor and the chief of police. They were able to convince the mayor to tell the police chief to stop police harassment of the NMU. The Wilmerding sheriff and some deputies went to the convention meeting to observe, but they were treated in a friendly manner, and no arrests were made. 

Horace found himself arrested during his year in the city. At the time, local communists were fighting with city officials for the right to hold street corner meetings. In August,  local communists tried to hold a street corner meeting described in the press as an "international red day" meeting. Their permit to assembly had been revoked, and the police arrested twenty-three participant. Horace was not among the participants, but he and a local economics professor he was friendly with (Colston Warne) arrived in the area shortly after the arrested were made. A police officer told them to move on, and Horace's friend responded in a disrespectful manner, so the officer arrested the both of them. They ended up spending the night in jail with the communists who'd been arrested earlier. They met with the judge the next day. In a later account of his experience, Horace wrote that the judge was in a good mood and dismissed all charges against everyone. At the time, the press reported the situation was more tense. The judge was reported to have issued $10 fines, and four of the arrested communists refused to pay and were sentenced to ten days in jail.  A police inspector for the district received a note threatening violence if there were further arrests. The message was from an individual who signed note "International Organization Cooperation," and asked "Please don't arrest those speakers from the park any more, or I will blow up your home – also the police station." The inspector dismissed the writer as a "crank," and nothing further came of the matter.

During this time, Horace occasionally did work for the Federated Press, a left-wing news service. Among the articles he published was one in the The New Republic about an incident at the University of Pittsburg where three students active in left-wing politics had been expelled. His most noteworthy article was an article in The Nation that developed from a trip he took to Birmingham, Alabama. 

Birmingham was of interest to Horace because it was a major center for the steel industry. While there, he visited all-Black company town run by a U.S. Steel subsidiary. In interviewing workers, he learned that a Black mechanic at the Fairfield Works, Matt Lucas, had recently been murdered. Lucas's foreman felt that Lucas had been disrespectful, and shortly thereafter, Lucas was shot to death by three company guards. The company town was so isolated that, not only had the press not reported on the murder, but word of the incident hadn't even spread informally among Blacks in Birmingham.

Horace was able to draw attention to Lucas's murder by publishing an article on the incident in The Nation. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful in getting justice for Lucas's family. The steel company eventually gave his family $700 as restitution, but the guards who murdered him not only avoided criminal conviction but they even kept their jobs. 

At the end of the year, Horace's scholarship funding came to an end. He began looking for further work, but his options were somewhat limited as many university administrators were leery of hiring someone so active in left-wing politics. He ended up finding a position at Southwestern Presbyterian University (now Rhodes College), a small private school in in Memphis, Tennessee.

Horace's move to Memphis would prove eventful. It was there that Horace first came to the attention of the FBI. We'll explore exactly what happened in a future post.


Sources

1. "Threat Sent to Policeman in Pittsburg." The Oil City Derrick [Oil City Pennsylvania], 3 August, 1929. pg. 1.

Saturday, November 19, 2022

May A. Kennard: A missionary goes to Japan

May F. Kennard
From 1930 passport application

May Augusta Kennard was born on October 31, 1884 in Middleton, Connecticut to Robins and Josephine Elton (Walton) Fleming. Her father Robins worked as a civil engineer for a bridge company. 

For school, May attended public school in New Britain, Connecticut and the Friends' School in Germantown, Pennsylvania (a school associated with the Quakers). She then enrolled at Bryn Mawr and graduated with her B.A. in 1907. 

By the time May had completed her college studies, her farther had moved to New York City. She moved back in with him and her stepmother. A few years later, she enrolled in the sociology graduate program at New York University. She attended during the 1913-14 academic year, but she does not appear to have received a degree. By 1920, she was still living with her parents and working as a secretary. 

May became involved in missionary work while living in New York City. She served as secretary of the Student Volunteer Movement (an organization that recruiting college students for missionary service abroad). In 1923, she became a missionary herself. She was sent to Tokyo, Japan by the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions. Later that year, she married J. S. Kennard who was also serving as a missionary.

May and her husband served as missionaries for the cities of Tokyo and Mito. May's activities included working at three women's college (Tokyo Woman's Christian University, the Kanto Gakuin and Joshi Eigaku Jiku or Tsuda School) and publishing the book What Japanese Students are Reading (with co-authors K. Takamatsu and Charles Allen Clark). 

In 1931, May wrote about women college students in Japan in an article titled "Women Students and Christianity," which appeared in a publication for missionaries in Japan. In light of later accusations that she and her husband were communists, the article is especially interesting because she discusses communism. 

Throughout Japan, college students were becoming increasingly critical of traditional Japanese society. Women were especially frustrated that their gender limited their professional and political opportunities. Many were turning to the west for ideas about how to reshape society. In her article, May surveyed the experiences of female students, focusing on how they were responding to efforts to promote Christianity.

May had mixed opinions. She felt that Christianity offered the ideas and values that students wanted, but the church was not wholly successful in attracting them. One major issue is the church was perceived as indifferent to the social issues that many were concerned about. She wrote that rather than recognizing the "the militant Gospel of the Son of God," many learned only of the "lukewarmness of official Christendom." Dissatisfied, many turned to communism which offered a "stirring appeal to dangerous living for the emancipation of oppressed millions."

May herself appears to have rejected communism because she saw it as an atheistic philosophy. Once in her essay, she refers to the "godlessness of Sovietdom." Student communists she regards  as well-intention but misguided. In her opinion, they were drawn to communism by an interest in adventure together with an admirable for social justice, but they had limited understanding of ideology.

The growth of communism on college campuses was a major concern throughout Japan, but May felt this was misguided. The number of actual communists was small, and many had a limited understanding of politics. Efforts to fight against communism were counterproductive as they had a tendency to make it even more appearing to students, by making it seem more dangerous and mysterious than it actually was.

Reflecting the gender dynamics of the times, May largely receded from public life after marrying. After she and her husband moved to South Carolina, she too began teaching at Benedict. While she was not mentioned by the governor in any of his speeches, May too was targeted by state officials. Notes by the William D. Workman indicate that, in a meeting with the press, the governor included May among the Benedict faculty who he wanted removed. When negotiating with Benedict president Bacoats, Dr. Kennard agreed to voluntarily resign if May was reappointed as an English teacher the next academic year. Bacoats agreed but then reneged on the agreement before the new term stated. By this time, May was in her seventies. She and her husband retired to the New York area and remained there until her death.

Published works

1. "Women Students and Christianity." The Japan Mission Year Book. Twenty-ninth issue. Kyo Bun Kwan; Ginza, Tokyo (1931). pp. 195–207.


Friday, November 4, 2022

Chinese war refugees in South Carolina

Walter Yeh and his family in Columbia, SC in 1956
From Richland Library

The hiring of white faculty and especially the enrollment of a white student at Allen University attracted the public's attention. Unnoticed was that Allen also hired its first Asian professors in 1954, the year it broke with its tradition of maintaining an all-Black faculty.

The professors hired were music professor Walter Huai-deh Yeh and sociology professor Ju-Shu Pan. Their hiring was part of a general effort by Allen University president Higgins and AME bishop Reid to improve academics and integrate the university, and generally help the university adapt to the changes that were expected to follow the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education court decision.

For Drs. Yeh and Pan, their arrival in Columbia, South Carolina marked the end of a long path to escape political turmoil in China. Both had been born in the early 1910s. They had been college students in China during the 1930s, but their studies were disrupted by the war with Japan.

Pan was born in Zhejiang province, and he attended Tsing Hua National University in Beijing. He received an A.B. degree in 1937. This was timely as war broke out that year, and Beijing was captured by Japanese military forces in June. It is unclear what Dr. Pan did immediately after graduating, but he left China in 1944. He was able to secure passage on an army transport, and he landed in San Pedro, California on July 1, 1944. He moved to Chicago and enrolled as a graduate student.  

Walter Yeh in 1958
From the Allen University yearbook via Richland Library

Yeh also moved to the United States in 1944. He was born in Shanghai. For college, he pursued a B.A degree from St. John's University in Shanghai and then studied at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. St. John's University was a liberal arts college founded by American missionaries. It was known for offering superior academics, and the school maintained close relations with American universities. These experiences provided Yeh with familiarity with American culture, which would prove important when he moved to the U.S. 

Yeh graduated from the music conservatory in 1935. It is unclear what he did for the next five years, but in 1940, he was hired as a music professor at the conservatory. His studies took place at an incredibly difficult time as the city of Shanghai was a war zone. Japanese military forces tried to take control of the city in 1932. After encountering resistance from Chinese forces, they agreed to a cease fire, but fighting broke out again in 1937. Large parts of the city were destroyed, and the Chinese military was driven out. For the remainder of the war, until 1945, Shanghai was under Japanese occupation.

The exact date of his departure was not recorded, but he likely left in late 1943. Yeh's path to the United States was circuitous. He flew over the Himalayan mountains to Calcutta, India and then took a ship to Melbourne, Australia and then finally arrived in Los Angeles, California on February 8, 1912. In his arrival documents, Dr. Yeh wrote that he was traveling to Ann Arbor, likely to work or teach at the University of Michigan. However, he ended traveling further east and enrolled at the Eastman School of Music at University of Rochester, receiving an M.A. and a Mus. M. (in music theory) in 1945. He then studied at Harvard University and received an A.M. degree in 1948. He was awarded a Ph.D. by Rochester the next year. His dissertation was "The Chinese Symphony, with male chanters, solo baritone and solo soprano." He received the highest score (219 ell) of all graduating student, in fact all graduating students for several years.

After receiving his Ph.D., Dr. Yeh moved to Alaska to work at Sheldon Johnson Junior College. He only remained there a year, returning to Boston in August 1950. From 1951 to 1954, he worked as a researcher at Harvard. He left that position to move to South Carolina and hold a joint appointment at Benedict College and Allen University.

Ju-Shu Pan in 1958
From the Allen University yearbook via Richland Library

Dr. Pan also moved to Columbia in 1954. He was hired as a professor of social science. He had completed his Ph.D. in sociology in 1946. He then remained at Chicago, working as a researcher. Pan studied the experiences of elderly people who moved into retirement homes. In addition to his dissertation "A Study of the Personal and Social Adjustment of Old People in Homes for the Aged," he published five articles in academic journals (American Sociological Review, The Journal of Educational Sociology, Geriatrics, and The Journal of Social Psychology). Pan's job at Allen was his first permanent one.

Unfortunately, I have been unable to locate any detailed accounts of how Pen and Yeh came to be hired. Edwin Hoffman said that he'd been hired directly by President Higgins and Bishop Reid, and both were very candid about the situation in South Carolina. He was told that, if hired, he would be among the first white professors at the university, and they only wanted to employ faculty who fully supported civil rights for Blacks. Presumably, they had similar conversations with Pen and Yeh, although both would have had limited experience with the political issues.

In Columbia, Pan and Yeh stood out. Not only were they among the first non-Black faculty at Allen, but they were among the first Chinese immigrants in the city. In 1950, only eleven people in the entire metropolitan area were non-white, non-Black. 

The Social Science Club in 1958. Dr. Pan is in the back row, second from the right. Dr. Hoffman is second from the left.
From the Allen University yearbook via Richland Library

Both Pan and Yeh appear to have appreciated the stability of their jobs in Columbia as they largely remained there for the rest of the careers. After his first year, Dr. Pan moved to Waco, Texas to serve as department chair at Paul Quinn College, but he returned to Allen the next year.

Dr. Pan lived in an Allen University apartment complex for faculty. This was one of the few (possibly the only) racially integrated residences in the state, and he was neighbors with Edwin Hoffman, John G. Rideout, and Forrest O. Wiggins. Dr. Yeh may have lived there as well for a year or two, but by 1957, he had purchased his own home located near the University of South Carolina (at 615 Henderson).

In their accounts of their time in South Carolina, neither Hoffman nor Davis mention Yeh or Pan, so presumably they didn't interact much. Newspapers regularly reported on musical performances that Dr. Yeh helped organized, but otherwise, the two attracted little notice. They were not mentioned at all during the public fight over the employment of Hoffman, Rideout, and Wiggins. 

Certainly, both had good reasons to avoid getting involved in politics. As members of South Carolina's tiny Chinese immigrant community, they could expect minimal support if they became political targets. Dr. Pan was especially vulnerable since he was a non-U.S. citizen and thus could face deportation. 

Moreover, nether seemed to be interested in the political issues. On a form submitted as part of an application for citizenship, one of Pan's former professors at the University of Chicago said that, not only was Pan not member of the communist party, but he in fact was anti-communist. Dr. Yeh appears to have been perceived as someone who would stay out of politics as President Veal made him made chairman of the humanities department in 1957, following the removal of Rideout from this position.

Both Drs. Pan and Yeh remained at Allen for the rest of their careers. Pan published a translation of the Chinese ethnography report, The Lolo of Liang Shan by Yueh-Hua Lin, in 1961. This was a notable accomplishment for professor at a small university that had only began to pursue research ambitious. Unfortunately, this was the last academic work he published as he died two years later of natural causes.

Dr. Yeh lived until 1990. In Columbia, he was a well-regarded member of the community who regularly participated in music performances. He amassed a large music collection. The collection was donated to the University of South Carolina after Yeh's death, and it is currently housed in the Music Library.

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

The Communist Activities Committee: South Carolina's Baby HUAC

Reflecting the political mood, the cover of the 1958 legislative manual featured a statue of ex-Confederate Wade Hampton in front of a Confederate flag
From the South Carolina State Library

One of the long-lasting consequences of the political attacks on Benedict College and Allen University was the creation of the Committee to Investigate Communist Activities. The committee appears to have had its origins in Governor Timmerman's January 15, 1958 annual message to the General Assembly. A large part of his speech was devoted to accusing Allen University and Benedict College of harboring highly trained communist workers. His speech ended with a recommendation that the General Assembly create a committee to investigate communist activities in order to protect the state from the "communist menace."

The legislature quickly took up the governor's suggestion. The proposed bill was read for the first time in February. It was ratified into law two months later, on April 16, 1958.

The committee was charged with investigating communist activities within the state and regularly reporting to the state General Assembly. They were also to recommend legislation when their investigations suggested that new laws were needed to preserve the state government. 

The committee's main power was to the ability to subpoena witnesses to testify before hearing and provide records like personal books and papers. The committee also was allowed to administer oaths and enforce them by charging witnesses with perjury. The history of the House Committee on Un-American Activities and committees like it demonstrated how significant these powers could be. Just subpeona-ing someone to testify could draw the press's attention and lead to the person being fired from their job and generally ostracized by the community.

The committee members were also given financial resources. They were allowed to employ an executive secretary or general counsel and clerical staff, and were reimbursed for their work via a per diem of ten dollars and milage. For its first year, the committee was appropriated ten thousand dollars (comparable to $100,000 in 2022) from the state general fund for the first year.

An observer knowledable about the history of HUAC-like committees would have sounded alarm. A committee like this provided legislators with a powerful political weapon, creating pressure to expand it beyond its original scope.

Florida's Johns' Committee illustrated how the dynamic could play out. The committee was created two years earlier (in 1956) to investigate organizations that participated in violence or in violation of state law. This type of language was often used to target communist organizations, which were believed to support the violent overthrown the United States government. The committee began by investigating civil rights groups like the NAACP with the goal of establishing ties between these groups and communism. However, in 1961, the legislature broadened the committee's charge to include investigating homosexuality. The committee's activities began to focus on universities, and it started investigating not only suspected homosexuals but also research and teaching activities that committee members found objectionable. Activities that raised concern included the publication of a scholarly article on Beat writers which included mild profanity. The committee questioned university students and faculty, and a number of them ended up being expelled from university.

Senator Rebert C. Dennis, a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

Remarkably, none of this happened in South Carolina. In its first report (issued in May 1959), the committee reported that they found no substantial evidence of Communist Party activity within the state and expressed the opinion that no new legislation was needed to combat "subversive activities." Two years year (in May 1961), the state legislature expanded the committee's charge to include creating an educational program that informs South Carolinians about the threat posed by communism. 

The committee's activities became focused on its educational mission. In its public reports, the committee continued to advocate remaining vigilant against communism activities, but they also acknowledged that they had found no evidence that such activities were taking place. The sole activity they reported was that a Black self-help organization on Johns Island (the Progressive Club) had received twenty-eight thousand dollars in funding from the Highlander Folk School, a social justice center that many conservatives believed was a communist front. 

Although it existed for decades, the committee never held a public hearing and never used its power to subpoena. Its investigative function appears to have been limited to passing on tips it received to state law enforcement, especially SLED (the statewide investigative law enforcement agency).

In its 1971, committee members expressed concern about the growth of the New Left and student activism on college campuses. Anticipating that its focus would shift to these new political movements and away from communism, the committee asked the legislature to  be renamed the Internal Security Committee. The name change was made 1973.

At the time of the name change, the committee was still meeting twice a month, but it had become largely irrelevant in the public's eyes. The Columbia Record newspaper described the committee as "long inactive" in a 1973 article on the name change. The committee issued no further public reports, and it's unclear what, if anything, the committee did as its records have been lost. 

Remarkably, the committee remained in existence until 1993 when it was disbanded as part of a general reorganization of the state government. In the early 1980s, one state representative (Jarvis R. Klapman) proposed that the committee should focus on guarding against terrorist attacks on critical facilities like the Savannah River nuclear power plant. Nothing came out of this, and by the late 1980s, the committee members were spending their time addressing safety concerns about the Statehouse parking garage. 

Senator Francis C. Jones, a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

The failure of the investigative committee can be attributed to political factors. The committee's most vocal supporter was Governor Timmerman, and he left electoral politics shortly after the committee was created. Under the state constitution, Timmerman was limited to a single 4-year term in office, and when his term ended (on January 20, 1959), he was appointed as a federal court judge. He remained in the judgeship until his retirement.

While Timmerman served as governor during a pivotal time in South Carolina's history, his political influence was limited. He had been elected in the first gubernatorial election held after the Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision. Throughout the south, voters (who were overwhelming white because of voter suppression laws) were outraged at the prospect of school desegregation, and gubernatorial elections were largely decided by candidates' positions on segregation. Timmerman had won the election by being the most vocal segregationist.

Senator John C. West, a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

Timmerman's overt and heavy-handed attacks on desegregation ran counter to the approach taken by many state politicians. In 1991 newspaper interview, the investigative committee's first chairman, John C. West, later said that the committee was "kind of a hot potato" and senior legislators did not want it. West said that he'd been given the chairmanship because he was a junior state senator looking for more experience on committees.

West's remarks should be viewed critically. He had a long and successful career in politics, and the investigative committee looked like an embarrassment by the 1990s, so he had every reason to downplay the support for the committee. A close examination of the historical record both supports and complicates West's statements. 

Once the initial shock of the Brown court decision wore off, South Carolina legislators avoided the sort of overt repressive measures that Timmerman advocated. Instead, they planned for a managed compliance with desegregation in which major elements of racial segregation were preserved through covert means. For example, public teacher salaries had been determined by a pay scale that was explicitly racist: the set wage for a black teacher was lower than that of a white teacher with the same experience. This system was replaced by one that used standardized test scores to determine salary after legislatures discovered that they could set score cutoffs in a way to largely replicate the older, overtly racially biased system.

The evolution of the investigative committee shows a similar strategy at play. A major component of the committee's educational activities involved working with the University of South Carolina (especially the international studies professor Richard L. Walker) to develop a summer program for public school teachers designed to train them on how to educate students about the purported dangers of communisms and the superiority of American democracy. By doing so, they made university administrators and faculty complicit in the state government's efforts to suppress leftist politics, but unlike more heavily-handed efforts like demanding the firing of left-leaning professors, this collaboration was unlikely to draw public criticism.

In the long-term, Timmerman's attacks on higher education were a dead end. The dismissal of the Benedict and Allen professors was the last effort by state politicians to force out left-leaning professors. However, those attacks demonstrated South Carolina politicians' interest in controlling and repressing higher education within the state. Those politicians were successful in their efforts. In the years that followed, the state government desegregated its higher educational system while simultaneously implementing measures (like the use of standardized test scores in admissions) designed to largely leave intact the system of white supremacy that segregation had produced. This was done with the acquiescence, and sometimes even the cooperation, of university professors. Ultimately, the hope expressed by the dismissed Allen University professor Edwin D. Hoffman, that resisting Governor Timmerman would "encourage teachers to stand on their own hind legs and be men," was not realized. 


Rep. Paul S. McChesney, Jr., a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

Rep. James A. Spruill, Jr., a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

Rep. T. Emmet Walsh., a member of the investigative committee
From the 1958 SC legislative manual via  South Carolina State Library

Sunday, March 6, 2022

W. E. B. DuBois comes to South Carolina

W. E. B. Du Bois in 1947
From Wikipedia

On February 11, 1957, W. E. B. Du Bois delivered a speech titled "The American Negro and the Darker World" at Benedict College in Columbia, SC. Du Bois had been invited to speak in early January by Allen University professor Edwin D. Hoffman. Du Bois spoke as the university's guest speaker for Negro History Week (a precursor to Black History Month). The talk was jointly sponsored by Allen and Benedict.

Du Bois's talk was announced in The State newspaper. The announcement was only two paragraphs long, but his arrival was certainly a major event. Columbia, South Carolina rarely hosted visitors of his stature.  At the time, Du Bois was almost ninety years old and a distinguished, internationally renown intellectual and civil rights activist.

Du Bois had long been active in international politics as he connected American anti-Black racism to colonialism and global capitalism. During the late 1940s and 1950s, he began to express sympathy for socialism because it offered a political alternative.

As American concerns over socialism rose and tensions with the Soviet Union grew, Du Bois became a political target. In 1951, the Justice Department alleged that an anti-war organization that Du Bois was involved in (the Peace Information Center) was acting as an agent for the Soviet Union. This required the organization to register with the federal government, but Du Bois and others refused, claiming that the allegations were false. Because of his refusal, Du Bois was indicted, but the legal case was dismissed the next year. By the time of his visit to Columbia, the controversy surrounding him died down. In its announcement of his talk, The State described him simply as an "American Negro sociologist and author." No indication was given that he might be a source of political controversy, although certainly Du Bois's views were regarded as outside the pale by many White South Carolinians.


Bacoats Hall
From Benedict College 1970 Benedictus yearbook

Du Bois spoke in the evening at Bacoats Hall on the Benedict campus. The event began with the singing of The Battle Hymn of the Republic and concluded with the singing of Life Ev'ry Voice and Sing. Both songs had major political significance. Life Ev'ry Voice and Sing was (and is) regarded as the Black national anthem, and singing it was an act of rebuke of South Carolina's segregationist culture. The song Battle Hymn of the Republic was even more politically provocative. The song was written by the abolitionist Julia Ward Howe and served as an informal anthem for the Union army during the Civil War. The lyrics included a direct call for the emancipation of slaves: "let [us] die to make men free." 

Reflecting the emphasis on religion at the school, Du Bois's speech was preceded by a prayer delivered by Wallace E. Crumlin, an Allen faculty member who taught religious education. Du Bois was introduced by Benedict president J. A. Bacoats.

Allen faculty member Wallace E. Crumlin
Allen University 1957 Yellow Jacket


Benedict president J. A. Bacoats
Benedict College 1970 Benedictus

The text below is based on a draft held at the Special Collections and University Archives at University of Massachusetts Amherst. The text likely differs from the speech Du Bois delivered at Benedict. The draft is for a version of the speech he gave to the National Committee to Defend Negro Leadership, and it is dated April 30, 1957, a few months after his visit to Columbia. 

In his speech, Du Bois draws on two themes. First, he embeds the historical mistreatment of African-Americans into the broader history of the exploitation of labor, especially colonial labor, by capital. For example, he argues that capital responded to the emancipation of slaves in America by increasing its efforts to extract wealth from Asia and to extract labor from the working classes of the West through use of factory work. Second, he argues that African-Americans were becoming increasingly estranged from "the colored people of the world." While many people in African were organizing against imperialism and promoting the development of socialism, African-Americans are largely trying to assimilate into American culture and regarded socialism as harmful political philosophy that ran counter to American values. Despite the material advantages that they enjoy, Du Bois argued that African-Americans have a much more limited understand of their political situation than the people of African nations. He concluded by calling upon his audience to educate themselves about socialism.

In his autobiography Liberalism Is Not Enough, Benedict professor Horace B. Davis wrote about how Du Bois's speech was received. He wrote that the students at Benedict and Allen were mostly "conventionally patriotic" and saw no connection between American capitalism and their own political oppression. Du Bois's speech had an impact on them. The students paid close attention and, after the talk, many began to learn more about socialism for themselves.

While its highly unlikely that they attended the talk, White politicians in South Carolina would have been outraged to hear that Du Bois had encouraged students at Benedict and Allen to learn about socialism and act in solidarity with the people of India, China, and Africa. However, the speech appears to have gone unnoticed. When the governor began publicly attacking the schools a year later, he made no mention of Du Bois's visit. Du Bois's visit also not mentioned in Forrest Wiggins's FBI file, although Wiggins and the other professors were under close scrutiny around this time. 

From the fifteenth through the seventeenth centuries the Africans imported to America regarded themselves as temporary settlers destined to return eventually to Africa. Their increasing revolts against the slave system, which culminated in the eighteenth century, left a feeling for close kinship to the motherland and even well into the nineteenth century they called their organizations "African," as witness the "African Unions" of New York and Newport, and the African church of Philadelphia. In the West Indies and South America, there was even closer indication of feelings of kinship with Africa and the East. 

The early excuse for American slavery on the part of planters was conversion to Christianity; but as slavery became the basis of great income in the sugar empire and the cotton kingdom, and as plans were laid for its expansion, the slaves in the United States sought freedom by escape to the north and joined with the abolitionists to fight for emancipation. The whites as well as many blacks now reverted to the first excuse for slavery, namely conversion of Africa to Christianity; and many plans arose for repatriation of negroes to Africa. The American Colonization Society was the best known, but soon earned the distrust of negroes when it became a method of getting rid of free negroes so as to fasten the chains closer on slaves.

When, later in the nineteenth century, the plight of the slave worsened, there arose again among American negroes plans for migration not only to Africa but to Haiti and South America. Civil War and Emancipation intervened and American negroes looked forward to becoming free and equal citizens here with no thought of returning to African or of kinship with the world's darker peoples. However, the rise of the negro was hindered by disfranchisement, lynching, and caste legislation. There was some recurrence of the "Black to Africa" idea and increased sympathy for darker folk who suffered the same sort of caste restrictions as American negroes.

But this brought curious dichotomy. In our effort to be recognized as Americans, we negroes naturally strove to think American and adopt American folkways. We began to despise all yellow, brown, and black peoples. We especially withdrew from all remembrance of kinship with Africa and denied with the white world that African ever had a history of indigenous culture. We did not want to be called "Africans" or negroes and especially not "negresses." We tried to invent new names for our group. We began to call yellow people "chinks" and "coolies" and dark whites "dagoes." This was natural under our peculiar situation, but it made us more easily neglect or lose sight of the peculiar change in the world which was linking us with the colored peoples of the world not simply because of the essentially unimportant fact of skin color, but because of the immensely important fact of economic condition.

In the latter part of the eighteenth century, Europe had begun to expand its trade and to important raw materials to be transformed into consumer goods. Machines and methods for manufacture of foods increased tremendously. When the revolt of slaves, especially in Haiti, and the moral revolt in England and America, led to the emancipation of slaves, the merchants who had invested in the slave labor began to change the form of their investment; they seized colonies in Asia and Africa and instead of exporting native labor, used the land and labor on the spot and exported the raw materials to Europe for consumption  or further manufacture. Immense amounts of wealth for capital were seized for Europeans in India and China, in South America and elsewhere; and thus colonial imperialism arose to dominate the world. Most of the exploited people were colored – yellow, brown, and black. A scientific theory arose and was widely accepted which taught that the white people were superior to the colored and had a right to rule the world and use all land and labor for the benefit and comfort of Europeans. While the emancipation of slaves in America involved great losses for Europeans investors, the simultaneous seizure of wealth in Asia and the new control of colonial labor enabled new rich employers in Europe and North America to accumulate vast sums of capital in private hands and to start the factory system. This method of conducting industry used new inventions and sources of power so as to drive laborers off the land, herd them into factories and reduce them to semi-slavery in Europe by a wage contract.

This brought the labor movement. In the more advanced European countries labor and its friends fought for more political power, public school education, higher wages and better conditions. These things they gradually secured by union organization and strikes. On the other hand, in Eastern Europe there was little education and wages remained very low. Political power rested in the hands of an aristocracy which became rich through encouraging and protecting western investment. This semi-colonial status of labor was even worse in South and Central America and in the West Indies, while in most of Asia and in Africa the condition of colonial labor approached slavery.

Thereupon arose the doctrine of socialism which demanded that the results of the manufacture of goods and the giving of services go to the labor involved and not mainly to the capitalists. This doctrine was in essence as old as human labor. Primitive labor got all the results of what it did or made. Many early societies like the first Christians and tribes in Africa lived in communal groups, sharing all results of work in common. Slavery intervened so that some workers were owned by others; then came aristocracy where a few took the results of the work of the many and the nation became the abode of a rich, idle and privileged class who were served by the mass of laborers. Protest against this and the doctrine that income should in some degree become the measure of effort became an increasing demand from the ancient world through the medieval world and was studied and scientifically stated by Karl Marx in the first half of the nineteenth century. He proposed that capital belong to the state and that workers run the state. Capitalists vehemently opposed this and partially met the demands of labor by raising wages. In the capitalist nations this raise was more than met by increased profits due to exploitation in colonial and semi-colonial lands. Also the spread of democratic control was counterbalanced by hiring White labor to war on colonial labor, and using public taxation for war rather than social progress.

From the defeat of Napoleon in 1815 to the First World War there was continuous struggle led by White troops armed with the most ingenious weapons to keep colonial peoples from revolt, and most of the other peoples of the world in subjection to Western Europe.

This was the situation at the beginning of the twentieth century. British, French, and American capitalists owned the colonies, with the richest natural resources and the best controlled and lowest paid labor. By 1900, they were reaching out for other colonies elsewhere: other nations with fewer or no colonies, led by Germany, demanded a reallotment of colonial wealth. This brought the First World War. 

But it brought more than this: the assault of Germany and her allies was so fierce that Britain and France had to ask help from their colored colonies. They needed black manpower and without it France would have been overthrown by Germany in the first few months of war. Britain needed food and materials from Asia, Africa, and the West Indies. The United States needed American negroes who formed an inner labor colony as laborers and stevedores. This meant an increase of wages and rights for colonial peoples. In the United States it brought the first recognition since 1876 of the equal citizenship of negroes. 

The workers of Eastern, Central and South America were not as badly off as the African serfs and Chinese and Indian coolies but they were sunk in poverty, disease, and ignorance. They were oppressed by their own rich classes, working hand in glove with White Western investors. When war came they starved and died. The situation became so desperate that Russians and Hungarians refused to fight. Their rulers sought compromise by trying to replace imperial rule with Western European democracy. But the Russian leaders, students of Karl Marx and led by Lenin, demanded a socialist state.

The Western world united to forestall this experiment. It said first that no socialist state could succeed, but lest it should and lower the profits of capitalists, the effort must be stopped by force of arms. Sixteen capitalists nations, including Britain, France, Germany, the United States, and Japan, invaded Russia and fought for ten years by means civilized and uncivilized, to overthrow the plans of the Soviet Union. However, the world-wide collapse of capitalism in 1930, made this attack fail and the world witnessed the founding of the first socialist state.

Then came a new and even more unexpected diversion. The Depression, which was the collapse of capitalism, was so bad in Germany, Spain, and Italy that those states fell into the hands of two dictators, Hitler and Mussolini. Backed by capitalists, they seized power and demanded control not only of the colonial world then dominated by Britain, France, and North America, but the domination of the whole world. The west tried to compromise and offered practically everything they demanded, but Hitler's greed and German ambition grew by what they fed upon. They were so convinced of their superior power over the West that Hitler started a Second World War, like the first aimed at control by a part of the White race over the resources, land, and labor of the rest of the world. He began a wild career. He killed six million Jews, accusing them of being the main cause of the Depression and of being an inferior race. He conquered France and chased the British off the continent. They huddled on their own small island to make a last stand, but here Hitler paused. He had a new vision. If instead of wasting his power on a desperate England he turned East and seized the semi-colonial lands of the Soviet Union and Balkan states, then from this central heartland he could seize Asia and Africa and after that turn back to deliver the coup de grace to Britain and America. Hitler thereupon scrapped his treaty with the Soviets which they, spurned by the West, had been forced to accept, and to the relief of Britain and the United States, Hitler turned to conquer Russia. Englishmen and Americans said with Truman, "Let them kill as many of each other as possible." So, although Hitler's rear was exposed, the Western powers held off attack for a year and when they did attack went to the defense of their African colonies and not to aid the Soviet Union. The West was sure that the Soviets would fall in six weeks and thus perhaps rid the world of socialism and Nazis at one stroke.

The result was astonishing. The Soviet Union almost unaided conquered Hitler, saved the Baltic states and the Balkans at a cost of nine million killed and wounded and the distruction [sic destruction] of much they had toiled for since 1917. Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin faced a world in which the Soviet Union, Britain, France, and the United States must go forward toward a world in which socialism would grow, not perhaps as complete communistic states like the Soviet Union, but in states like the United States and England where social progress under the New Deal and the Labor government would advance together along paths leading to the same ultimate goal.

This co-operation American Business repudiated when it invented the Atom bomb. After Roosevelt died, our capitalists determined to drive communism from the world and push socialism back. This crusade failed. India became independent and adopted modified socialism; China conquered the stool-pigeons whom we paid to stop her revolution and became the greatest communist state in the world. The Soviet Union, instead of failing as we predicted, became one of the foremost nations of the Earth, with the best educational system and freedom from church domination second only to this nation in industry. Also the Soviet Union took a legal stand against the color line and stood ready to oppose colonialism. We tried to re-conquer China during the war in Korea and to help France retain Indo-China, but again failed. Meantime we formed the greatest military machine on earth and spent and are still spending more money preparing for war than any other nation on earth at any time has spent.

The excuse for our action is that communism is a criminal conspiracy of evil-minded men and that private capitalism is so superior to socialism that we should use every effort to stop its advance. Here we rest today and to sharpen our aim and coordinate our strength, we starve our schools, lessen social services in medicine and housing, curtail our freedom of speech, limit our pursuit of learning, and are no longer free to think or discuss.

Where now does that leave American negroes? We cannot teach the peoples of Africa or Asia because so many of them are either communistic or progressing towards socialism, while we do not know what socialism is and we can study it only with difficulty or danger. After the First World War we negroes were in advance of many colored peoples. We started in two ways to lead the Africans. In the West Indies Garvey tried to have negroes share in western exploitation of Africa. White industry stopped him before he could begin. In the United States negro churches carried on missionary efforts and a few negroes in 1918 tried to get in touch with Africa so as to share thoughts and plans. Four Pan-African congresses were held in 1919, 1921, 1923, and 1925, which American, African, and West Indian negroes attended, and a few persons from Asia and South America. They made a series of general demands for political rights and education. The movement met much opposition. However, it encouraged similar congresses which still exist in all parts of Africa, and it was the inspiration back [sic?] of Mandates Commission of the League of Nations and the Trusteeship Council of the United Nations. After a lapse of twenty years, a fifth Pan-African congress was held in England in 1945. It was attended by negro labor leaders from all parts of Africa and from the West Indies and one from the United States. Especially prominent were the delegates from Kenya and Ghana, the first independent Black dominion of the British Commonwealth. The resolutions adopted here had a clear socialist trend, and further Pan-African congresses were envisioned to be held in Africa. 

Whither now do we go? We American negroes can no longer lead the colored people of the world because they far better than we understand what is happening in the world today. But we can try to catch with them. We can learn about China and India and the new ferment in East, West, and South Africa. We can realize by reading, if not in classroom, how socialism is expanding over the modern world and penetrating the colored world. So far as Africa is concerned we can realize that socialism is part of their past history and will without a shade of doubt play a large part in their future.

Here in our country, we can think, work and vote for the welfare state openly and frankly, for social medicine, publicly supported housing, state ownership of public power and public facilities: curbing the power of private capital and great monopolies and stand ready to meet and cooperate with world socialism as it grows among White and Black.


Citation: Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963. The American Negro and the darker world, April 30, 1957. W. E. B. Du Bois Papers (MS 312). Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries 

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