Tuesday, November 10, 2009

ALBA Visit #10

Yesterday I read the James Lardner Papers. Lardner’s story especially impresses me because he came from a rather secure and privileged background and still made the choice to fight in Spain (and even support communism). Not that this is unheard of, but it is atypical, especially so late in the war. Larder’s papers suggest that witnessing the war was the pivotal moment for him, but I wonder just how much thinking Lardner had been doing beforehand that led to his seemingly sudden change of heart. I can’t be sure, but somehow I get the impression that Lardner had been digesting the significance of the Republic and of communism for some time, and bearing witness to the war was the last straw, convincing him to volunteer.

Also interesting about Lardner’s situation in comparison to that of the average American volunteer is that Lardner actually saw Spain and saw the war to some extent before volunteering, whereas most American volunteers only saw Spain after enlisting. This opportunity afforded Lardner some unique insight, although it is hard to say what that insight contributed to his thought process beyond the obvious call to action. Perhaps without seeing Spain Lardner would never have resolved to volunteer, although it seems to me that something else could have pushed him over the edge. The question is: what? - Perhaps different media coverage, or different propaganda, or maybe only time. If only more of the world’s Lardners had somehow better understood Spain…

My favorite part of the Lardner Papers is the letter to his mother of 3 May 1938, where he lists his reasons for volunteering. His honesty and clarity are great, and whether he realized it or not, he was articulating the thoughts of nearly every volunteer in one way or another. One could argue that reasons 1, 2, 3, 4, and 9 are a volunteers’ manifesto of sorts. Omitting the word “liberal” and the bit about communism in reason 1, reasons 1, 2, 3, 4, and 9 might have made a damn good piece of anti-fascist anti-neutrality propaganda in the United States, especially considering the author was a relatively mainstream American boy with well established and respected roots.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Research Post #3

I recently began reading copies of the Daily Worker (DW) at Tamiment to gauge how conscious the communists and the affiliated left were of the Spanish Civil War, what they were writing about, what they were advocating, and how pervasive the issue of the Spanish Civil War was in comparison to other issues making the headlines. I plan to read at least the front page of every DW from 17 July 1936 to 1 April 1939, the beginning to the end of the war.

Through this reading I will put together statistics about the prevalence of the war in the DW headlines as opposed to other topics, and I plan to put together statistics in this same way regarding the New York Times [thanks to Professor for the suggestion]. This data, as well as any other relevant data I come across, will hopefully lead to some original insights. I expect DW to cover the war more than NYT, but we may yet be surprised.

I have not yet read enough DWs to make any inferences about my inquiries, but some interesting things emerge from just a few readings. For example, the thoroughness and variety of coverage is impressive, reflecting the wide circulation DW enjoyed during the 1930s, circulating well beyond just communists, given the impacts of the depression and the popular front, illustrated by credo that "Communism is Twentieth Century Americanism". Also, there are a few brief mentions of political unrest and Fascism in Spain in July papers before the 17th, but nowhere near the front page. More to come soon…

Monday, November 2, 2009

ALBA Visit #9 Continued/Research Post #2

In a speech (that I found in the Good Fight box) delivered October 5, 1937, FDR gave one of the first hints that the USA could not remain neutral for much longer given the degenerating state of international affairs, aptly comparing war and disease to explain his thoughts:

When an epidemic of physical disease starts to spread, the community approves and joins in a quarantine of the patients in order to protect the health of the community against the spread of the disease.[1]

The sentiment of this metaphor is a significant reflection of a developing awareness within the Roosevelt administration, and thus an evolving public consciousness, but this awareness developed too slowly and reservedly to change the outcome of the Spanish Civil War. One manifestation of the administration’s reservations is the fact that FDR did not explicitly name any aggressor or conflict in this “Quarantine Speech”; another is that, at a press conference the next day, FDR added, “I can’t tell you what the methods will be. We are looking for some way to peace; and by no means is it necessary that the way be contrary to the exercise of neutrality.”[2] This guarded foray into political self-expression by FDR was better than no foray at all, because it at least raised public awareness, but it registered few, if any, measurably positive effects on the urgent international conflicts at the time, especially the Spanish Civil War. FDR’s speech reinvigorated the national discourse about isolationism without lending any tangible support to the opposition of isolationism.

In hindsight this approach is short-sighted, but at the time, the relative virtues and vices of neutrality were not thoroughly understood, and some part of FDR may still have believed that letting the Spanish Civil War unfold without American involvement might avert a World War. There is also the issue of the State Department’s influential fear that the Republic comprised many communists and socialists, and a Republican victory might empower communism throughout Europe.[3] Adherents to this fear understandably opposed the Republic. Adherents to this fear who also opposed Fascism were presented with a dilemma: on one hand Fascists win, on the other hand Communists win. How FDR may have been influenced by this dilemma is impossible to ascertain, and how prevalent this dilemma was in the public consciousness is a question worth further investigation. The vagueness of the Quarantine Speech lends itself to different public interpretations of FDR. He may have been an interventionist cautiously gauging public opinion, he may have been hopeful that non-intervention could actually be a type of “quarantine” yielding favorable results, or he may have just wanted to reinforce the relevance of the issue without taking any particular stance.

Whatever the public may have thought about FDR’s mindset, the general public reaction to the Quarantine Speech was surprisingly favorable, as evidenced by various statistics,[4] and perhaps if FDR had taken some concrete stance in the aftermath of his speech, he could have turned the tide of public opinion in favor of some sort of intervention. As it stands, FDR did not say anything to reduce the ambiguity of his speech nor did he make any concrete foreign policy proposals, and the public voiced no consensus strong enough to inspire policy changes. So the people who supported FDR’s message and hoped to see it in practice were left hanging, angered by an administration that passed up what may have been a golden opportunity to change the course of history for the better. This anger and all anger inspired by the belief in the illegitimacy and injustice of Fascism, the “legitimate anger” of which Abe Osheroff spoke, compelled many people to take personal action by obstreperously opposing non-intervention and/or volunteering in Spain.


Citations

1. Roosevelt, Franklin Delano. "Quarantine the Agressor." Outer Drive Bridge Dedication. Chicago, IL. 5 Oct 1937. Speech.

2. Roosevelt, Franklin Delano. Nothing To Fear: The Selected Addresses Of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, 1932-1945. 'Comp'. Houghton Mifflin Company, 1946. 110. Print.

3. United States Relations with Spain, undated; The Good Fight: the Abraham Lincoln Brigade in the Spanish Civil War: Production Materials; ALBA 216; box 1; folder 30

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

4. Bennett, Edward Moore. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the Search for Security: American-Soviet Relations, 1933-1939. Rowman & Littlefield, 1985. 98-100. Print.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

ALBA Visit #9 and “The Good Fight”

Hearing one of the directors of The Good Fight mention that the film’s first cut was about six hours long was no surprise to me after having seen the enormity of material in the box that the directors’ contributed to ALBA. There were probably thousands of pages of interview transcripts, which constituted the bulk of the files, and hundreds of pages of other research.

The interviews comprised an amazing amount of stories about, and insights into, the lives of various volunteers. In a certain sense it is a shame that more of these stories could not be incorporated in the film, but as a filmgoer I do understand and appreciate the editing. I tried to sift through some of these interview transcripts to identify content aligned with my final project ideas, and came away with some useful material. One of my next blog entries will more deeply analyze my findings, but for the time being I will just summarize my research, because there were many documents that I need more time to read, analyze, quote from, and cite, documents that are in the process of being photocopied for me by Tamiment Library (another valuable library service of which any of my classmates without camera or scanner might like to take advantage).

I noticed a couple of questions relevant to my project that were well addressed, albeit anecdotally, by the interviews with veterans: How did those associated with the cause of the Republic become politicized (politically socialized)? Where and how did they get their information? The anecdotal evidence suggests that most of these volunteers and their social networks were approximately working class, were directly affected by the Depression, and thus became politically liberal. It also seems that by-and-large these people became active in political scenes that aligned with their interests, be they socialist, communist, anarchist, civil rights oriented, or just generally liberal, and that these groups became bases of political knowledge, and disseminated and filtered news and new political information. One of the most influential examples was the Communists’ publication of the Daily Worker, which I will soon begin reading en masse, along with pamphlets, etc., to begin answering my questions about particular political perceptions and actions. However, as far as I know there are no published statistics to underwrite these ideas, or to comment on the extent to which people were active in any given group or were targeted by activism (please let me know if you are aware of any), and I doubt I could put together any such statistics given my time constraints. So it seems I will be doing, in large part, what many other historians did, namely, aggregating anecdotal evidence to paint a big picture as reliably as I can. I suppose in a field of inquiry like this, constructing a coherent and compelling narrative out of potentially misleading bits and pieces is a somewhat inevitable occupational hazard.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Research Post #1 Update

Update

The books I mentioned earlier will still be handy to some extent, but the focus of my project has changed, and will be considerably more anchored in the archives. I still plan to research non-intervention and the embargoes, and my project will still be politically oriented, but I will focus on the people who broke away from the isolationism of their time, who were not directly involved in the governmental politics surrounding non-intervention, about and from whom there is lots of archival material, including copies of The Daily Worker, pamphlets on microfilm, letters, and various other selections from ALBA and elsewhere. I plan to juxtapose my findings from these archival materials with knowledge about both the governmental and public politics surrounding non-intervention 1) to explore why and how these “ground-level” participants came to reject isolationism, the popular political stance of their era, 2) to shed some light on the limitations of their information, and 3) to examine how these limitations shaped their efforts to understand and change policy.

A preliminary outline of the questions to be addressed might look like this:

-What did persons/groups a, b, and c know about policies/political interactions x, y, and z?

----How did they perceive x, y, and z?

----What did they do about it?

-What are the whole stories of x, y, and z as we know them today?

----How did x, y, and z affect a, b, and c, and vice versa?

-What can be inferred about the consequences of this "knowledge gap" experienced by a, b, and c?

-If a, b, and c had more knowledge about x, y, and z, how might their history have gone differently? [Whether this last question is appropriate is yet to be determined]

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Professor Fernández and Peter Carroll for their guidance and insights.

To any of my classmates who have not already done so, I recommend consulting Professor Fernández about your final project. He is very helpful and approachable.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Research Post #1

I began researching my final project today, which is going to focus on the rationale for, the effects of, and the reactions to American non-intervention, probably including some discussion of international non-intervention. It seems that ALBA is only sporadically helpful to this line of inquiry, so I would much appreciate any suggestions for relevant archival material, in ALBA or elsewhere. Considering the limitations of ALBA I consulted the big green Historical Dictionary of the Spanish Civil War, 1936-1939 at Tamiment, which was a great introductory source. I suggest using that dictionary to anyone pursuing extra-archival research because every entry is accompanied by a list of suggested further reading. These lists led me to a somewhat obscure book from 1968 called American Diplomacy and the Spanish Civil War by Richard Traina, which I am getting through Amazon, and which should be a useful source. The only problem I noticed with the dictionary is that it is pretty old (I am not sure how old) so there are some newer books out there that it will not be able to suggest. One such newer book is Arms for Spain: The Untold Story of the Spanish Civil War (1999) by Gerald Howson, which focuses on the role of arms, and lack thereof in the case of the Republic, and has some handy sections discussing the American political climate surrounding neutrality and gives some insight into the inner workings of Roosevelt’s state department. I was lucky enough to come across this book searching through the Strand bookstore’s Spanish History section, which I also recommend for extra-archival research. If anyone has any suggestions for further readings or research on my topic, please let me know.


Note: Another interesting title I just noticed on the Strand’s website is The Spanish Civil War, The Soviet Union, And Communism (2004) by Stanley G. Payne, but it’s out of stock at the Strand. Bobst may have it, and Amazon definitely has it, if this is relevant to anyone’s research.

ALBA Visit #8

Yesterday I started reading the Marjorie Polon Papers, specifically Bill Bailey’s letters to Marjorie during the Spanish Civil War, which span from spring or early summer 1938 to November 1938. The content of these letters is very similar to that of the other letters I have read, except that Bailey’s letters are some of the longest, going into more gory war details. Certain aspects of his letters stood out to me and raised some questions.

For one, Bailey echoes one of Abe Osheroff ‘s complaints from his interview on the Facing Fascism DVD, about how heartbreaking it can be not to receive letters. Bailey wrote, “About the toughest piece of misery to go through in any war is to fail to receive letters from people.”[1] Bailey did not suffer as great a lack of letters as Osheroff, but this somewhat hyperbolic statement seems to reflect a widely held feeling on what was a sensitive issue. In the shoes of a combatant, perhaps a statement like Bailey’s may not have sounded hyperbolic at all.

Bailey also wrote, regarding volunteers who lied about their age, “…a few of [the young volunteers] I know to be about 15 years of age, are a sure willing bunch, always asking the old timers packs of questions. They feel swell being amongst us and we feel likewise about them.”[1] This was shocking to me. If what Bailey wrote is true, this is the only source I have ever seen discussing volunteers that young. Just as surprising to me as their purported age is Bailey’s attitude towards them. The presence of underage combatants is generally viewed as exceptionally hazardous, isn’t it? And how reliable is Bailey’s knowledge about the attitudes of his fellow “old timers”? If Bailey’s report is accurate, what are the implications of this seemingly strange, not to mention illegal, situation?

Additionally, Bailey is one of the volunteers who explicitly wrote about the necessity of lifting American non-intervention. He prophetically implied that successfully protesting the embargo against Spain would be the difference between victory and defeat, and that protesting non-intervention was the American thing to do, which I though was an apt articulation. Though I still wonder about the logic behind the timing of writing on this essential topic. Once again, it seems a little late in the game, but hindsight may be distorting my view of the issue…


Citations

1. 4th Letter from Bailey to Polon, Fall 1938; Marjorie Polon Papers; ALBA 159; box 1; folder 1

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

ALBA Visit #7

I was reading the Guide to the Alvah Bessie Papers today when I came across a diamond in the rough: A copy of a single letter from Ernest Hemingway to Milton Wolff, circa 1940.

I figured this letter would be friendly, but that notion was deep-sixed after just one sentence. Hemingway begins by saying, “I won’t try to explain how conceited, confused, and stupid your letter was.” Apparently Wolff disparaged Hemingway in an earlier letter, which, as far as I can tell, is not in ALBA. It is apparent from the rest of Hemingway’s letter that Wolff called Hemingway a “rooter” as opposed to a fighter, and criticized For Whom the Bell Tolls.

Hemingway took these criticisms very hard, yet he has no particular response to the idea that he was a “rooter” or to any criticism leveled against For Whom the Bell Tolls. In his anger Hemingway proceeds to reiterate his own credentials and assassinate the character of Wolff, rather than employ any logical argument.

In response to the charge that he was a “rooter” Hemingway asks, “…given what experience I have and what talents I may possess what would you like me to have done to aid the cause of the Spanish Republic that I did not do?” and he takes the issue no further, seeming uncertain about it himself. Hemingway also says, “…I was in wars, commanded troops, was wounded etc before you were dry behind the ears. So don’t give me the old soldier talking to the non-combatant.”

Seemingly in defense of For Whom the Bell Tolls, Hemingway says to Wolff, “At the time the book deals with you did not know Marx from your ass…” Hemingway punctuates the letter with statements like “…we are not friends any more…” and “I always thought you were a great guy and now I think you are a prick.” Regardless of what Wolff said, Hemingway comes off like a bitter four year old, and all of his points seem irrelevant to any meaningful, logical discourse.

This falling out makes me wonder intensely what Wolff had to say, and also makes me wonder if the vehemence and irrationality of Hemingway’s response were inspired by feelings of conflict or guilt about his behavior during the war.


Citation

Hemingway, Ernest: Letter to Milton Wolff (typed copy), 1940; Alvah Bessie Papers; ALBA 24; box 5; folder 32

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

ALBA Visit #6

During this visit I read the Joseph Kleinman Papers, which consist of eleven letters written by Joseph to his friends Morris and Nettie Srebnick, and Morris, Pauline and Demos Eitzer, who all lived in New York City. The letters begin July 15, 1937, shortly after Joseph’s arrival in Paris, and end June 28, 1938. Joseph died in September 1938 at Sierra Caballs.

Of all the correspondence I’ve read so far, Joseph’s is the least frequent, averaging less than one letter per month, but at the same time it is very consistently optimistic about the fighting and his involvement with the ALB. Despite Joseph’s exceptional morale, his letters end up following the same trend as all of the others I’ve read thus far. His tone starts off confident, even jubilant, and remains confident for a long time, but by his last letter he is battle-hardened (if not weary) and he is pleading for the repeal of the U.S. Neutrality Acts of 1937. It seems like this tonal trend is evident throughout the ALBA collections.

Joseph is minimally apologetic about the infrequency of correspondence, citing how busy he is and how essential his work is (although he laments the lack of incoming mail especially towards the end). Also, his writing style is akin to stream-of-conscious, which makes me wonder if he was in a big hurry even when he took the time to write, or if he just had a unique style, or perhaps both. Most interesting to me is Joseph’s emphasis on the need to undo American neutrality, which only comes about in his last letter, June 28, 1938. He says:

…my dear comrades you have got to work a little harder to get the now infamous neutrality law annulled, so the republican government can buy material to defend its people and cities… if you can get this damnable law done away with you will have done more for democracy and the Spanish Republic than all the international brigades.[1]

It surprises me that this crucial plea only occurs in Joseph’s last letter. I wonder what made Joseph take up this issue at this time. Did the need for materials grow especially dire? Were previous shortages not severe enough to inspire his writing against neutrality? Was this topic suggested by the chain of command? Neutrality was certainly a prevalent topic of conversation among the volunteers, but when did a coherent anti-neutrality movement develop? I also wonder: if Joseph had acknowledged the issue of neutrality earlier, could he have been more effective? I would like to do more research at some point, to gain insight into these questions and help illuminate the issue of neutrality.


Citations

1. Last Letter to the Srebnicks and Eitzers, June 28, 1938; Joseph Kleinman Papers; ALBA 271; box 1; folder 4

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

ALBA Visit #5

During this visit I read the Jacob (Jack) Shafran Papers, specifically Jack’s letters to his girlfriend Ruth Goldstein in New York City. Jack served with the Abraham Lincoln Brigade from July 1937 to October 1938, and came home in December 1938.

Like many of his comrades, Jacks letters started off confident and cheery. Ironically this is around the same time that George Boehm’s writing grew trepidatious and he soon died in a battle that Jack survived. Like George, Jack wrote about the war frequently and in detail. Unlike George, Jack usually received regular mail from his significant other. Interestingly, the correspondence seemed to instill more homesickness than confidence in Jack. Also, from George and Jack’s descriptions of war, and from my general historical knowledge, I get the impression that nonintervention hurt the morale of those fighting for the Republic, and I also get the impression that the Republic could have won a resounding victory if it had received international help [studying the rationale for and reactions to American nonintervention might make an interesting final project].

By December 1937 Jack’s tone has changed from confident to world-weary. “Did you ever get to feeling where the important and big things seemed small and trivial, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything?”[1] he asks Ruth dismally. Aside from battle scenarios, Jack sinks even deeper into weariness and even boredom, often complaining about seemingly petty details. But I suppose the little annoyances can add up, especially at war in a foreign country. He does have some serious complaints as well, including a bad hand injury in August 1938 that incapacitated him for several weeks. By October 1938 Jack implies that he used prostitutes during his free time (specifically in July 1938), he mentions drinking and gambling to kill time, and he cannot wait to go home. This makes me wonder: How common was the use of prostitutes, drinking, and gambling? Peter Carroll’s The Odyssey of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade makes it sound like drinking was not much of an issue, with a few isolated exceptions, but does not address prostitution or gambling. Anyhow, Jack’s feelings of homesickness apparently dwarf whatever upset he felt about the ALB withdrawing and the Republic losing the war. I wonder if George Boehm would have developed similar feelings had he outlived the fighting. I’d like to think that George would have maintained a more selfless tone to the very end.


Citations

1. Letter from Jacob Shafran, Dec 14, 1937; Jacob (Jack) Shafran Papers; ALBA 215; box 1; folder 6

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

DVD – Facing Fascism: New Yorkers Remember the Spanish Civil War

Hearing and seeing these old New Yorkers tell their stories was uniquely educational. I’m thankful that they participated. Seeing the faces put to names I had heard earlier was very interesting, and often entertaining.

I found some of the content particularly interesting, and decided to write it down:

Vera Schiller said, “The times made us political.” This idea makes me wonder: If people would make themselves “political” all the time, rather than just at dire and demanding times such as the 1930s, could they more effectively avert or subvert socio-political injustice altogether?

Jay Greenfield said, “If you believe in something, and you say you believe in it, you ought to be willing to put your body where your mouth is.”

Abraham Lincoln Brigade veteran Abe Osheroff said, “Legitimate anger is a form of love… and a person who’s incapable of being angry, is incapable of loving.”

On resisting fascism, Abe said, “You resist, whether you win or lose, you resist… The process of resistance itself is rewarding, to you as a person, ‘cause once you know that it’s shitty and lousy, and you do nothing about it, you lose a piece of yourself.” I agree with Abe here, that this type of resistance is rewarding, and that standing up for justice when it is imperiled is fulfilling to our humanity.

I invite my classmates and any other readers I may have to comment on these quotes. Do you agree/disagree? Like/dislike? Have any interpretations? Did any other stories or quotes from the DVD stand out?

Comments are always welcome on my other posts as well.

ALBA Visit #4

The last folder of George Boehm’s letters to Sylvia was a faster read than the first two, because, although there were a total of 28 letters (spanning January to July 1938), they were generally more brief and to the point.

It turns out that Sylvia’s correspondence continued to grow less frequent, which distressed George. Nonetheless, he continued writing faithfully, and did not really question the lack of letters from her. As far as I can tell, there is no explanation for her minimal correspondence, which leaves me wondering what was going on with Sylvia. Did she actually write as infrequently as it seems? If so, why? Or did her letters somehow not reach George? These questions remain especially salient to me because the Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers contain none of the letters from Sylvia to George. Sylvia’s letters could have answered those questions, or at least provided some insight, and their absence raises more questions. Why is the collection devoid of her letters to George? Were they lost or omitted or what? Perhaps George did not save Sylvia’s letters, perhaps Sylvia deliberately omitted them from the collection, or perhaps they were destroyed or lost because of the war.

It also turns out that George’s tone grew more anxious and pessimistic. He continues detailing the war, discussing everything from battle results, to sleeping in foxholes for safety, to his emotions. His emotional discourse seems predominated by the growing conflict between his longing to come home and see Sylvia, and his determination to do everything he can for the Republic and act in such a way that he will not regret. George seriously considers going home since he has served enough months to do so, but his determination to continue fighting wins out. This is a lamentable crossroads, and it makes me hope that I never find myself in a situation like George’s. If I could talk to him today, I wonder what he would regret, if anything. George did not mention having any regrets in his letters.

Monday, September 28, 2009

ALBA Visit #3

Today I attempted to finish reading George Boehm’s letters to his wife Sylvia, but I only got through the second folder of three. It took a surprisingly long time to read and filter the contents of the 22 letters, spanning from August 1937 to early January 1938. So, George Boehm will be the focus of one more blog entry, to conclude my thoughts and findings.

In my last entry, I guessed correctly that George would write in more detail about the war and his involvement. He completely drops his stance of reluctance to discuss the war, and stops providing rationale for the content of his letters. Naturally, the content gets more graphic, as he begins discussing battles, his training (beginning August 1937), and eventually his involvement in fighting (beginning October 1937) and his reaction to the violence surrounding him. He is clearly under stress (for example, he takes up smoking for the first time), but at the same his resolve is strengthening and his optimism is peaking. But why do George’s resolve and optimism improve? For one thing, he comments on the positive morale fostered by his comrades, an invaluable source of encouragement. He reaches the point where his ideology is being tested under fire, and his pro-republican sentiment remains unwavering. Another factor may be that he is learning Spanish; he enjoys communicating and connecting with the Spanish people, and becomes proficient to the point where he writes an entire letter to Sylvia in Spanish (December 10, 1937). Perhaps the unfettered discussion of war is therapeutic for George. And perhaps he was the type of person who does well under pressure.

However, I used the word “peaking” when referring to George’s optimism because there are still threads of pessimism woven throughout George’s letters, which seem to play a minimal, yet increasing role as time passes. Two points stand out. One, George is distressed by what seems to be the decreasing frequency of mail from Sylvia. He usually notes the dates he receives mail from her, and he is especially happy at these times, but he also mentions the several-week intervals between correspondence, wondering if he is somehow at fault or if mail is being misdirected. The other point George dwells on increasingly is the need for more foreign assistance, especially his desire for intervention by a power like America, England, or France. This realization becomes more and more powerful, and at one point George goes so far as to hint at the impossibility of winning without extra international assistance. So, I wonder if the correspondence from Sylvia grows even less frequent, and I wonder if George’s pessimistic tendencies take the reigns as time wears on.

To be continued…

Monday, September 21, 2009

ALBA Visit #2

This past Saturday I began reading the Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers, focusing on the letters sent to Sylvia, who lived in New York City, by her husband George Boehm, a fervently anti-fascist Abraham Lincoln Brigade (ALB) volunteer. His letters begin February 27, 1937, when he first enlisted and arrived in Paris, and end July 1938, when he was killed during the battle of Ebro. I read the first of three folders, which contains twenty letters, covering February through July 1937. This indicates that George was writing an average of one letter per week, but I suspect he wrote more, because of various references in his writing to more frequent correspondence, seemingly several times per week before he arrived in Spain in April 1937. Perhaps some letters were lost or omitted. Regardless, there is more than enough material in the first folder to begin drawing insights from George’s experience in Spain.

First and foremost, George wrote of his love for Sylvia and his longing for her (although he very seldom used the word “love”). He put great emphasis on his desire to hear from her, and I get the impression that her correspondence was a great source of encouragement for him, as correspondence was for many volunteers. In addressing Sylvia, George was at his most eloquent, dropping many a charming one-liner such as: “You know, that without you, even Paris can become dull…”[1] Most of the other content of George’s letters was small talk, but certain points stand out and raise some interesting questions.

Between February and July 1937, George was doing office work, far from the front lines. However, as his letters progress, it seems that his workload is growing, he is feeling increasingly harried, and the front lines are likely receding towards his position. This impression becomes strong only after reading all twenty letters; he insists repeatedly that he would rather not discuss the war, but his optimism wavers and he lets some details slip from time to time. I wonder why George did not want to discuss the war. Many other volunteers wrote about it frequently. I suppose in those first few months the war was not imminently threatening to George, or perhaps he avoided war-related discussion to help him cope with the stress. One reason he often gave Sylvia was that the newspapers would do a better job of reporting on the war than he could. But this deprives us of first-hand accounts that Sylvia may have wanted to hear and that no newspaper could capture. Perhaps George realized this and felt compelled to give an excuse, or perhaps he really believed he had nothing much to say. Given the trend of his first twenty letters and his ever-closer proximity to combat, I bet that he wrote about the war in more detail in his later letters. I will find out during my next visit to ALBA. Fortunately, George dropped enough puzzle pieces for us to assemble a decent partial picture of his experiences between February and July 1937, and the letters I have yet to read will likely shed much more light on George’s odyssey.


Citations

1. 2nd letter, Feb 27, 1937; Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers; ALBA 202; box 1; folder 10

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

Friday, September 18, 2009

ALBA Visit #1

Today at Tamiment Library, looking through the binders that catalogue the Abraham Lincoln Brigade Archives (ALBA), it quickly became clear how formidable the volume and variety of documentation to which we have access is. There are so many areas of interest addressed by the writings of the veterans and their friends and family, from the fighting to the politics to the culture to more specific topics like the roles of women and African Americans, among many other things. This first visit got me thinking about what topic(s) I would like to hone in on for future projects, and I am still thinking; there is a plethora of material to sift through and consider.

As I looked through several veterans’ writings today, just to get an impression of what I will be working with, I did not focus on any particular stories, but I did begin to consider common threads and their implications. One striking commonality is that all of the Americans involved with the Republic were volunteers. The fact that all of these men and women were involved voluntarily is phenomenal, and I find them especially courageous and selfless when considering how much they stood to lose. First and foremost they stood to lose their own lives, and of course their connections to loved ones, family, friends, causes, and other interests back home, as made abundantly clear by the extensive and endearing content of various diaries, documents, and letters. These writings discuss love, longing, and the mental and emotional leaps of faith involved in leaving home, and risking life and limb to defend beliefs, and the people who shared those beliefs, from a fascist force hell bent on the destruction of those people and beliefs. The humanizing effect of these writings is simultaneously inspiring and gut-wrenching; to think that young (and some not-so-young) people from a different era, with whom I nonetheless have much in common, could uproot their lives, go to Spain, fight, and die for their cause. I appreciate those who fought for the Republic, as well as those who fought many other wars throughout history, to defend ideas and freedoms that I value, but at the same time I wonder how I would feel and what I would do if I found myself in a position similar to theirs…