By Kevin C. Murphy, Copyright 2013. All Rights Reserved.
Chapter Six: Legacies of the Scare
Progressives, Civil Liberties, and Labor
VII. Professional Patriots
While A. Mitchell Palmer began the Harding years as a target of congressional inquiry, the Red-hunting bureaucracy he and J. Edgar Hoover had constructed still existed within the Justice Department. When Harding came into office, it became the new toy of William J. "Billy" Burns, a private detective and friend of Daugherty's named the new head of the Bureau of Investigation. As noted earlier, Burns and his pathologically untruthful lieutenant, Gaston Means, were both caught up in the activities of the Ohio Gang - Burns was the first man on the scene at the strange suicide of Jess Smith. He was also, not unlike his predecessor, a man who saw Reds around every corner. "[R]adicalism is becoming stronger every day in this country," Burns warned the Allied Patriotic Societies in New York in February of 1923, in part because of "parlor Bolsheviks" like "this American Civil Liberties Union of New York…Whenever we seek to suppress these radicals, a civil liberties union promptly gets busy."2
The "tragic fate of Mr. Burns," as The New York World argued, is that he was sounding the tocsin of impending revolution at a time when most of the nation was plumb sick of hearing about the Red Menace. "He is the only man in the United States who can still see that famous Red Revolution coming," the World remarked. "He has shown that liberals are capturing some of the colleges, that radicals are occasionally allowed to speak on street corners, that the Civil Liberties Union has defended free speech for communists as well as for other people. But he has failed miserably to arouse the citizens to a sense of their own danger…It is the tragic fate of Mr. Burns that nobody is aware of it but himself."3
Actually, that wasn't quite true. Burns still had many fellow travelers of his own, especially among patriotic organizations like the American Legion, the Daughters of the American Revolution, and the National Civic Federation, still headed by polemicist Ralph Easley. It was with the fundraising aid and material support of this last organization that Burns initiated an August 1922 raid of a Communist Party convention in Bridgman, Michigan, which netted the arrest of close to two dozen Communists, including William Z. Foster.4
But the Bridgman raid posed several problems for Burns. For one, while the assembled Communists were ostensibly guilty of flouting Michigan's state law against criminal syndicalism, the Bureau -- for much the same reasons the Dyer anti-lynching law was considered unconstitutional by some -- actually had no federal jurisdiction to intervene in the case. Attorney General Palmer had rarely had official legal recourse to act either, but, without Red Scare hysteria in the background anymore, this type of extralegal activity seemed even more blatant. "No overt criminal act of any sort is charged," averred the ACLU. "No evidence is offered except the doctrines advocated by the Communists…While we thoroughly disagree with the Communist attitude toward free speech, with their melodramatic secret tactics and with their talk about revolutionary violence, we shall defend their right to meet and to speak as they choose."5
For another, while Burns and the Bureau had hoped to find some evidence from the Bridgman raid that tied the Communists to the still unsolved Wall Street bombing of two years prior, the only bombshells dropped in the subsequent legal proceedings exploded in the Bureau's face. In the February 1923 depositions preceding William Z. Foster's trial, one Albert Bailin confessed to being a longtime agent provocateur for Burns and his private detective agency. According to Bailin, he had created a false paper trail to tie the Communists to the Wall Street Bombing, and even written and sent bomb threats of his own, at the behest of Burns and his lieutenants, who were eager to "create newspaper publicity, so the bankers would raise a larger fund than they have already raised to investigate the Wall Street explosion." Bailin could prove his reports to the Bureau were falsified, and both his stories and his charges lined up with rumors about another Burns witness, William Linde, who had been arrested to much fanfare in December 1921 as the presumed architect of the Wall Street bombings, only to turn out to be a liar.6
Foster's defense never put Bailin on the stand, since both his radical background and his admitted confession of lying frequently made him a potentially dangerous and unreliable witness for cross-examination. In any case, the damage to Burns' reputation was done. And, proving yet again how times had changed since the height of the Red Scare, the Foster jury ultimately deadlocked. "The six on my side did not believe that the Communist Party advocated violence," the jury's lone female member told the Times, "The other six believed it did. That was all there was to it." To her, "the stage setting of the prosecution seemed overplayed with such a display of detectives and undercover men that it appeared more like trying to railroad Foster than like prosecuting him."7
A more successful case for the Bureau of Investigation in the early 1920's was the conviction of Pan-African nationalist Marcus Garvey for mail fraud. The seeds of Garvey's downfall had been sown in October 1919, when J. Edgar Hoover had initiated an investigation into the charismatic leader. "Garvey is a West-Indian Negro and in addition to his activities in endeavoring to establish the Black Star Line Steamship Corporation he has also been particularly active among the radical elements in New York City in agitating the Negro movement," Hoover wrote in a Bureau memorandum. "Unfortunately, however, he has not as yet violated any federal law whereby he could be proceeded against on the grounds of being an undesirable alien, from the point of view of deportation. It occurs to me, however…that there might be some proceeding against him for fraud in connection with his Black Star Line propaganda." To start building a case, Hoover asked "Agent P-138" and "Agent 800" to begin burrowing into Garvey's organization - the only two African-American agents Hoover would hire for the next forty years.8
Garvey had no allies with the NAACP, who thought him a dangerous and ignorant rabble-rouser. In The Crisis, Du Bois had gone from deeming Garvey "an extraordinary leader of men" in 1920 to "a little fat black man, ugly, but with intelligent eyes and a big head" in February 1923. (For his part, Garvey thought Du Bois "a lazy dependent mulatto" and the NAACP "a group that hates the Negro blood in their veins.") In fact, NAACP officials and other notable African-American leaders -- although Du Bois, James Weldon Johnson and A. Phillip Randolph chose not to sign aboard -- wrote Attorney General Daugherty calling Garvey an "unconsidered menace to harmonious race relationships," particularly after Garvey began meeting with the Ku Klux Klan. ("Between the Ku Klux Klan and the Moorfield Storey National Association for the Advancement of 'Certain' People," Garvey had said afterwards, "give me the Klan for their honesty of purpose toward the Negro.") Deeming Garvey's UNIA as comprised of "the most primitive ignorant element of West Indian and American Negroes…Negro sharks and ignorant Negro fanatics," they urged Daugherty to "use his full influence completely to disband and extirpate this vicious movement, and that he vigorously and speedily push the government's case against Marcus Garvey for using the mails to defraud." In short, "Marcus Garvey is intolerant of free speech when it is exercised in criticism of him and his movement, his followers seeking to prevent such by threats and violence."9
After several years of investigation by the Bureau, Garvey was indicted and tried for mail fraud in May 1923. The "great difficulty" with Garvey, as Du Bois had written in 1920, before the two men's relationship had completely soured, "is that he had absolutely no business sense, no flair for real organization and his general objects are so shot through with bombast and exaggeration that it is difficult to pin them down for examination." So it was with the finances of the Black Star Line, which had folded in April 1922. Before the end of the Line, Garvey had sent out fliers suggesting the business was in considerably better shape than it was, and featuring pictures of a ship -- the S.S. Phyllis Wheatley -- that had not in fact been purchased yet. While prosecutors labored to suggest criminal intent from what had mainly been business grandstanding, Garvey chose to serve as his own lawyer during the case and generally made a hash of it. ("If Garvey conducted his business as he did his trial," one paper noted, "there is little wonder it failed.") Found guilty in June 1923 - a verdict he forever henceforth blamed on a Jewish conspiracy -- Garvey was sentenced to five years in prison. After serving time in the Atlanta federal penitentiary, his sentence was commuted by Calvin Coolidge in 1927 and he was deported to Jamaica, never to return.10
Another man soon to be exiled by Coolidge was Billy Burns, who was forced from the Bureau of Investigation by new Attorney General Harlan Fiske Stone soon after the March 1924 ousting of Burns' old benefactor, Harry Daugherty. (Burns would later go to jail for jury tampering in the first trial of oilman Harry Sinclair for the Teapot Dome bribes.) "There is always the possibility that a secret police may become a menace to free government and free institutions," Attorney General Stone announced in May 1923, upon his reorganization of the Bureau. "It is important that [the Bureau's] activities be strictly limited to those functions for which it was created and its agents themselves be not above the law or beyond its reach." As such, Stone declared, from now on, the Bureau "is not concerned with political or other opinions of individuals. It is concerned only with their conduct, and then only with such conduct as is forbidden by the laws of the United States."11
Holding the Bureau to this new standard would be its newly-appointed chief, J. Edgar Hoover. "I could conceive of nothing more despicable nor demoralizing then to have public funds of this country used for the purpose of shadowing people who are engaged in legitimate practices in accordance with the constitution…[and] laws of the country," the new Bureau head piously intoned. Soon thereafter, however, Hoover was back to business as usual. "We never knew," Roger Baldwin declared later in life, "about the way that Hoover's FBI kept track of us after the 1924 reform announcements. They never stopped watching us."12
If J. Edgar Hoover and the Bureau were officially tasked with keeping tabs on America's various malcontents, other members of the Harding and Coolidge administrations took on similar efforts as more of a freelance hobby. In Evanston, Illinois in the spring of 1923, Charles Dawes - Harding's Budget Director and eventually Calvin Coolidge's running mate and vice-president - formed his own ultrapatriotic organization, the Minute Men of the Constitution, to stand for "the renewal and building up of respect for law and the Constitution of the United States" and against "the arrogance and lawlessness of certain unworthy leaders of special groups," meaning the labor movement. "We are entirely non-partisan," explained Dawes to the press, "and we shall not hesitate to oppose any politician who shilly-shallies and yields to the demands of various aggressive minority organizations." What minorities he had in mind was evidenced by the fourth plank of the Minute Men platform - endorsing "the right of a citizen to work without unlawful interference" - and he soon bragged to the president that, thanks to his Minute Men, "the labor and political demagogues are already keeping their damned mouths shut." For his part, Harding told Dawes that the Duchess liked their black-and-white cockades, and professed his hope and understanding that the Minute Men were simply a healthy, patriotic outfit that would not cause any trouble with labor before the coming election13
Another government official active in fighting those he presumed disloyal was Brigadier-General Amos A. Fries, head of the War Department's Chemical Warfare Service, which had been created during the World War to oversee and maintain the nation's new gas and chemical weapons arsenal. Taking none too kindly to all the talk of pacifism and disarmament emanating from women's groups, Fries announced in December 1922 that pacifist groups were "financed, inspired, and directed from Moscow…to establish communism in America." The following year, Fries and the Chemical Warfare Department's librarian, Lucia Maxwell, drew up what became known as the Spider-Web Chart -- a chart that aimed to document the ties of fifteen women's organizations and twenty-nine prominent women leaders to socialism. Announcing at its head that "the Socialist-Pacifist movement in America is an Absolutely Fundamental and Integral Part of International Socialism" -- this was a quote from the Lusk Committee report -- the Spider Web chart named as members of the grand conspiracy Florence Kelley, Belle La Follette, Margaret Dreier Robins, Freda Kirchwey, and Emma Wold and such organizations as the WJCC, the League of Women Voters, the General Federation of Women's Clubs, the American Association of University Women, the National Consumers League, the Women's Christian Temperance Union, and the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom. Along with making it to Edgar Hoover's desk, the Spider Web chart was circulated by organizations like the American Defense Society and eventually printed in Henry Ford's Dearborn Independent.14
In naming everyone from the Temperance Union to the YWCA, Fries had cast a wide net, and soon the head of the WJCC officially complained to Secretary of War Weeks about this "contemptible attack on the women's organizations of the country." Weeks put the blame on Maxwell, the department librarian, and ordered all copies of the offending chart destroyed - but by now it had been taken up as gospel by all of the many private patriotic organizations still in existence. Joining the organizations formed during the war or soon after, like the American Legion, National Security League, American Defense Society, and National Civic Federation, were many more of similar cast and ambition, including the American Citizenship Foundation (established 1923), the United States Flag Association (1924), the National Patriotic Council (1924), and Sentinels of the Republic (1926).15
Of these, the most prominent remained the American Legion, who continued its assault on those it deemed threats to the republic throughout the decade. To Arthur Warner, who penned a multipart series for The Nation in 1921 entitled "The Truth about the American Legion," the veterans' organization was an unofficial fourth branch of government, a "super-government" hell-bent on "hysterical super-patriotism" that aimed "to perpetuate the war psychology as its contribution to peace." While "present tendencies in the American Legion appear to be away from the violence and intimidation" of 1919, Warner warned, the 600,000 member organization "is still imbued with the spirit of repression and coercion, of prejudice and unreason, which the war nourished; but it has to heed the cry of 'Back to normal!' which the rest of the community is raising, and is beginning to clothe the nakedness of its purposes in peace-time garments."16
Normalcy did pose some problems for the Legion, not the least the demise of its old sparring partner, the IWW. Nonetheless, the organization set out in peace time on several Americanizing projects to keep the flame alive. "The people of our land little realize the enormous constructive Americanism program undertaken by the Legion," national director Garland Powell boasted to William Borah in 1923. These included night schools "for the benefit of our illiterates and the foreign born who desire to become American citizens," playgrounds and recreation centers to foster physical education, and endowing chairs and scholarships in Americanism and the study of the constitution. Borah was unimpressed. "[W]ith the utmost respect of your organization," the Senator replied, "I think the attitude you have taken with reference to the political prisoners is distinctly in violation of the most fundamental principles of Americanism…the right of free speech, of a free press, and of peaceable assemblage, in peace or in war, is indispensable to any conception of Americanism as I understand it."17
This was not the first time the Legion had been called out by Senator Borah. When the American Legion asked him to compose an editorial on "Constitutional Morality" in June 1921, Borah's piece argued that "the most vital problem in American politics at the present time is the preservation of the great guarantees of civil liberty, found in our constitution and so long supposed to be secure and indispensable." Borah's editorial also attacked the behavior of "the political pharisees - the man who is always professing great devotion to the Constitution and always betraying it, or disregarding it," and who is "constantly expressing the fear that the people may have their minds poisoned by false doctrines; hence the necessity of censoring the press and circumscribing public meetings and arbitrarily punishing men for expressing 'dangerous' views." Similarly, William Allen White responded to a Legion member looking for similar validation that he did "not feel that we need much of a 'line of defense against the advance of radicalism.' The radical is a poor fish who doesn't get anywhere. The real danger is your conservative, your reactionary, and he is getting somewhere. He is liable to have this country by the throat" In short, White argued, "I wish the Legion would get a little more excited about the dangers of respectable conservatism and insidious reaction and run out a first line of defense against some of those ginks."18
The Legion begged to differ. "The American Legion can never watch unconcerned the abuse of freedom of speech," the organization argued in their anti-pacifist pamphlet, Preparedness versus Pacifism. "[T]he right of the entire nation to free speech may be endangered by the flagrant abuse of the right by a few," such as those who did not "realize the priceless value of the Constitution…and the danger of carelessly departing from its spirit and purpose." Among these ne'er-do-wells, Garland Powell argued in 1924, was the ACLU - "These people are advocating 'free speech,' speech of the kind that would allow the advocacy of the overthrow of a government by forces of arms…Free speech up to a certain point is an excellent thing, but free speech that would destroy our nation and the servicemen who defended it cannot be tolerated." To the Legion, pacifists and civil libertarians were "free-speech fakers," and they should and must be silenced for the good of the nation. (As such every Legion convention from 1920 to 1962 officially deemed the ACLU an un-American organization.)19
Still, just as Billy Burns' raid on the Bridgman Communists were viewed quite differently than had been the Palmer Raids during the Red Scare, the breast-beating of the super-patriots did not have the same impact on the public mind as the decade progressed. "Americans have become apathetic to the monotonous appeal of the patriotic exhorter," a Legion committee bemoaned in 1925. "The utmost ingenuity is frequently necessary to obtain publicity." To change this, the Legion began working to root out un-Americanism in the schools. Along with sister organizations like the Better American Federation and the National Civic Federation, who wanted to excise those "seeking to de-Americanize our institutions and sap the foundations of the Constitution," the Legion worked to get The Nation and The New Republic removed from schools and public libraries, along with books by such radicals as Upton Sinclair, Jane Addams, and Henry George. They also worked to create their own pro-American school textbook, the two-volume , by Charles F. Horne, that aimed to "inspire the children with patriotism, preach on every page a vivid love of America and preserve the old patriotic legends." (In the section on the Alien and Sedition Acts of John Adams' time, it was explained that "[t]he moment that anyone threatens to do injury so as to compel others to adopt his views…he becomes a criminal.") Few school systems adopted Horne's textbooks, which were widely panned by journals and educators alike. To one reviewer, they were "so maudlin and sentimental about 'our' virtues and 'our' superiority to the rest of the world that if universally used 'our' next generation would behave like an insufferable cad toward the rest of the world."20
By the end of the 1920's, the progressives and the patriotic organizations were still locked in mutual enmity. On one hand, many notable progressives -- among them Herbert Croly, Felix Frankfurter, Fiorello La Guardia, Raymond and Margaret Dreier Robins, Harry Emerson Fosdick, William Allen White, Arthur Schlesinger, Paul Kellogg, Amos Pinchot, and W.E.B. DuBois -- publicly endorsed the publication of writer Norman Hapgood's 1927 muckraking expose, Professional Patriots ("An Exposure of the Personalities, Methods, and Objectives Involved in the Organized Effort to Exploit Patriotic Impulses in These United States During and After the Late War.") Delineating the many intemperate actions and statements made by, and industrial backers of, the patriotic organizations, Hapgood's tome concluded that "insofar as their activities represent privileged interests masquerading as patriots, and insofar as they inspire suppression of those with whom they disagree, their activities should be condemned as hostile to the country's interests." On the other, the Daughters of the American Revolution had by 1927 criculated a blacklist, entitled The Common Enemy, to its affiliates, consisting of over 200 left-minded individuals and sixty organizations that were not to be allowed to speak at DAR events. Arguing that "Communism, Bolshevism, Socialism, Liberalism and Ultra-Pacifism tend to the same ends," the blacklist included Jane Addams, Carrie Chapman Catt, Clarence Darrow, Felix Frankfurter, Florence Kelley, William Allen White, David Starr Jordan and organizations ranging from the YMCA to the NAACP.21
"You will find pretty generally over the United States that editors and public men will not endorse this foolish and malicious attack upon people like Jane Addams, Mrs. Catt, Florence Kelley, and others," William Allen White wrote the President-General of DAR about The Common Enemy. "There is no reason why men of my type, liberals who hate communism with a deep loathing, should not work with the D.A.R. But at one stroke of the pen, when you endorse the circular which puts under the ban the officers of every women's civic organization of the country, most of the inter-church organizations and the message boards, the D.A.R. has isolated itself in the work of making a better, fairer, lovelier America and must not complain if its isolation draws upon it the fire which is directed to those superpatriots who see no good save in their own endeavors and tolerate no associations except those of their own cast and class and kind." For her part, Carrie Chapman Catt responded to The Common Enemy in an open letter published in the League of Women Voter's journal, The Woman Citizen. "Surprising as it may seem to you," Catt argued, "in libraries and laboratories among psychologists and experts on inheritance, the D.A.R. is now considered an interesting "case.":
These men of science say that the qualities which led the Fathers to live and die for certain ideas, new in their time, have become atrophied in the Daughters. They say that while the Fathers tolerantly recognized the right of others to their own opinions as a part of God's law of progress, never pausing, you their Daughters, declare that whatever is, must forever be, and assume a petrified standpatness on that pronouncement. The great liberties the Fathers established were free thought, freedom of religious worship, free speech, free press, and free assemblage… [But scientists] say you have slipped out of the camp of your Fathers and into that of "in spite of others," where, curiously, you praise the Fathers, but condemn that which made them worth of praise.22The Daughters would have been doing the nation a great service in exposing a Bolshevik conspiracy, Catt argued, if they had any evidence of such. As it was, the DAR "has not unearthed a single Bolshevik nor discovered any evidence of a plot that the newspapers had not previously given the public. Instead it has made slanderous, mendacious and brutal attacks on thousands of women who never saw a Bolshevik in their lives." Catt took particular reproach at the treatment of Jane Addams, "one of the greatest women this republic of ours has produced." Citing endorsements of Addams' decades of good works, Catt declared she'd "take the evidence of Newton D. Baker, Democrat, and President Coolidge, Republican, as to her integrity, rather than the wild ravings of such a pamphlet as you have circulated." In short, Catt concluded, "there is no excuse whatsoever for calling those who differ with you Bolsheviks, Reds and conspirators aiming to tear down the nation…you impugn the motives, assail the honor, question the intelligence, [and] malign the representatives of honorable organizations."23
While Catt responded to the DAR blacklist with a righteous wrath, many progressives returned fire through sardonic contempt. "Dear Fellow-Conspirator," began the invitation to The Nation's blacklist party of May 1928, "We notice that your name appears on the Roll of Honor drawn up by the Daughters of the American Revolution and their allies, the Key Men of America. Some call this Honor Roll a blacklist. It includes United States Senators, Communists, Ministers, Socialists, Republicans, Editors, Housewives, Lawyers -- most of us, in fact." In reply, William Allen White argued his inclusion on the blacklist was a "great fortune…If a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, a place on the D.A.R. blacklist is better than a license to steal in a mint, or to have a hand in the Continental Trading Company's jackpot." In fact, former World columnist Heywood Broun was irritated he had been left off the blacklist, and told The Nation he would be suing the DAR for libel for leaving him off. At the May 10th party in New York City, over a thousand watched as Clarence Darrow and Arthur Garfield Hays, both blacklisted, litigated Broun's suit - the leading character witness was Groucho Marx.24
The Nation's gala was not a one-off event. The following year, a "Free Speech Rally" was held in Boston with Harvard professor Arthur Schlesinger, whose history textbooks had been deemed un-American, acting as "Chief Roastmaster and Master of Revelries." Among those seated at the head table before a crowd of 700 was Margaret Sanger, wearing a gag as she had been forbidden to speak in the city.25
These sorts of highly sardonic celebrations helped to maintain the esprit de corps of embattled progressives and civil libertarians, but they also suggested how they perceived themselves by the end of the decade. To wit, progressives no longer saw themselves as the vanguard of the great mass of American people, but as members of an often-persecuted minority. "America is no longer a free country in the old sense," Katherine Fullerton Gerould wrote in 1922, "and liberty is increasingly a mere rhetorical figure...everywhere, on every hand, free speech is choked off in one direction or another." Instead of appealing to the good nature of the public, Fullerton argued, "the only way an American citizen who is really interested in all the social problems of his country can preserve any freedom of expression is to choose the mob that is most sympathetic to him, and abide under the shadow of that mob."26
"I do know I owe far more to the American Civil Liberties Union than the Union owes to me," Arthur Garfield Hays wrote in his memoir, in part because "[w]ork for the Union has required me to keep abreast of various radical movements and to learn something of their history and philosophy. It has brought me into contact with a variety of circles, usually the poor, defenseless, and unpopular, always the dissenters and persecuted. It has shielded me from the corroding influence of the particular groups who would normally be my associates." By the end of the decade, many on the left felt closer to the poor, defenseless, and unpopular than they did the public at large. "The tone of intellectual pronouncements," as historian Leon Fink put it of the progressives, "gradually shifted from a confident (if somewhat presumptuous) association with the democratic public to feelings of concern, revulsion, and even open resistance to the will of the nonintellectual multitude."27
To be sure, progressives would not completely drop the public interest case for civil liberties. As Congressman La Guardia declared in a 1928 speech on the subject, "if the future of our Republic depends on the suppression of free speech, there is no future. The right to criticize public officials is not only wholesome, but necessary in a republic." That being said, on political prisoners, on lynching, on Sacco and Vanzetti, on labor issues, time and again, American institutions and the American public had come down against the progressives in the twenties, and by 1929 many on the Left had come around to the world weary cynicism of Mencken.28
The Sage of Baltimore had begun the decade scoffing at the "naïve and charming belief" among progressives "in the intrinsic integrity and passion for justice of the great masses of plain men," and the "laudable superstition that an unveiling of the facts would send them into tantrums of indignation." These superstitions, Mencken argued, "spit boorishly into the very eye of the facts…[T]here is actually no such nobility in the public breast." In fact, he argued, "it is one of the hardest things in the world…to stir up public indignation against legal injustice, for the mob is always in favor of the man giving the show, and the more violently he flogs his victims the better it likes it and him." After a decade in the trenches, it seemed to many progressives that, rather than trusting to enlightened public interest, laws and institutions needed to be forged and maintained that would protect individuals of conscience from the wrath of the public instead.29
Return to the Table of Contents.
2. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 184-187.
3. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 187-188.
5. Ibid. Gage, 299-300.
6. Gage, 304, 282.
7. Gage, 305-306.
8. J. Edgar Hoover to Special Agent Ridgeley, October 11, 1919. Robert A. Hill, ed. The Marcus Garvey and Universal Negro Improvement Association Papers, Volume II, 27 August 1919 - 31 August 1920. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1983. Reprinted at American Experience: Marcus Garvey http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/garvey/filmmore/ps_fbi.html Lewis, W.E.B. Du Bois, 68.
9. Miller, New World Coming, 115. Lewis, W.E.B. DuBois, 68, 80-83. Harry Pace et al to Harry Daugherty, January 12, 1923. Amy Jacques-Garvey, ed. Philosophy & Opinions of Marcus Garvey. New York: Athenaeum, 1969. Reprinted at American Experience: Marcus Garvey http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/garvey/filmmore/ps_go.html
10. Lewis, W.E.B. Du Bois, 68. Miller, New World Coming, 115.
11. Murphy, Freedom of Speech, 188.
12. Gage, 322. Theodore Kornweibel, Seeing Red: Federal Campaigns Against Black Militancy, 1919-1925 (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1999), 176.
13. Zieger, 76-77. "Mr. Dawes and His Minute Men," The Literary Digest, May 26, 1923, 15.
14. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 191-192. Cott, 248-249, 242.
15. Cott, 250. Noggle, Into the Twenties, 118-119.
16. Arthur Warner, "The Truth About the American Legion," The Nation, July 6, 1921 (Vol. 113, No. 2922), 7. Arthur Warner, "The Truth About the American Legion," The Nation, July 13, 1921 (Vol. 113, No. 2923), 35.
17. Garland Powell to William Borah, November 1, 1923. WJB Box 139 - Miscellaneous. William Borah to Garland Powell, November 5, 1923. WJB, Box 139 - Miscellaneous.
18. Borah, "Constitutional Morality," American Legion, June 2, 1921. Box 99: Newspapers. White to C.T. Start, October 7, 1921. White, Selected Letters, 221.
19. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 203-205. Larry Ceplair, Anti-Communism in Twentieth Century America: A Critical History (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2011), 241. Among those the Legion sought to silence, or at least keep away from American shores, was Albert Einstein. In one Los Angeles member's words, Einstein was merely a "pacifist traveling in the guise of a mathematician." Ibid.
20. John Higham, Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925 (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1955), 326. Leuchtenburg, Perils of Prosperity, 80-81. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 209-211, 217.
21. Norman Hapgood, Professional Patriots (New York: Albert and Charles Boni, 1927), iii-vii. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 198-199. In 1924, The New Republic had published a similar multi-part exposé of the "Professional Patriots" by Sidney Howard. Sidney Howard, "Our Professional Patriots," The New Republic, September 17, 1924 (Vol. 40, No. 511), 71-72.
22. White to Mrs. Alfred Brosseau, August 11, 1927. White, Selected Letters, 279-280. Carrie Chapman Catt, "An Open Letter to the D.A.R.," The Woman Citizen (July 1927), 10-12, 41-42.
23. Catt, "An Open Letter to the D.A.R."
24. White to Ruth Stout, May 4, 1928. White, Selected Letters, 283. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 202-203.
25. Murphy, Meaning of Freedom of Speech, 203.
26. Brown, 6.
27. Hays, City Lawyer, 227. Leon Fink, Progressive Intellectuals and the Dilemma of Democratic Commitment (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997), 26.
28. Zinn, La Guardia in Congress, 104.
29. Mencken, A Carnival of Buncombe, 29, 22.
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