Review: The Corporate-Matrimonial Complex: Masculinity in the Twentieth-Century

Ehrenreich, Barbara. The Hearts of Men: American Dreams and the Flight from Commitment. Garden City, NY, Anchor Press, 1983.

By: Brandon Locke

Barbara Ehrenreich’s The Hearts of Men: American Dreams and the Flight from Commitment examines the economic agreement between men and women in the mid-to-late twentieth century. Barbara Ehrenreich earned a PhD in Cellular Biology, but has worked as a journalist and author for the better part of the last four decades. She is a noted feminist, democratic socialist, and political activist, best known for her 2001 book on the working poor, entitled Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America. In The Hearts of Men, Ehrenreich focuses on the effects of the financial system that consumed marital life during the time, and the eventual flight from it. She argues that the single-breadwinner home is damaging for both men and women, though she focuses primarily on the ills it brought to men and the ways in which they responded. Through this examination, Ehrenreich examines the roots of the flight from marriage and shows that the well-studied Feminist Movement (which focused on work and fair wages) was only one side of a larger rejection of this system. She closes by showing that men were able to break the constraints of the single-breadwinner marriage first, but left women behind, stuck in the same economic prison.

Ehrenreich begins in the 1950s, with the breadwinner ethic that created the dependence of women upon men in a single-income family. Her explanation of the path leading to this system is a bit sparse, but she puts most of the blame on the rise of the industrial economy. The agrarian family of the pre-industrial era was a unit of production that was bound to each other for economic survival.[1] Following industrialization, men began earning a “family wage,” and women, generally unable to secure well-paying jobs, were completely reliant upon men for survival. Building on Claude Levi-Strauss’s gendered labor divisions, well paying jobs were labeled ‘male,’ leaving women dependent upon men for economic survival.[2] This social constraint made it difficult (if not impossible) for women to financially survive on their own.

From this introduction to the system, she moves into the social factors that were used to keep men restrained to this economic role. Although a number of government policies backed the institution of marriage, including welfare and social security benefits, she primarily focuses on the social side of the economic system that perpetuated inequality and forced the breadwinner role upon men. Psychiatry developed many theories that supported the idea that marriage and the breadwinner role were the only normal state for adult males, with unwanted diagnoses to explain men that desired other roles.[3]  These men were often labeled as homosexual or mentally inept.[4] Homosexuals were thought to be in a perpetual state of adolescence and immaturity, and homosexuality was thought to be the ultimate escapism for men that just couldn’t handle the burdens of the family.[5] Riesman’s “other-directed men,” who exhibited feminine “softness” were deemed to be far too focused on their feelings to tackle the hard tasks that were required as a male breadwinner.[6] Because of the centrality of the workplace to masculine conceptions and economic needs, men who were feeling overwhelmed began complaining about the imposition of women in their lives, and talking about the strains of the growing American “matriarchy” rather than blaming the corporate world.[7]

Ehrenreich argues that men began to rebel against this corporate-matrimonial complex (my words) in a number of ways throughout the 1950s, and many influential social critics and respected scientists backed the cause. Hugh Hefner’s “Playboy,” first published in 1953, encouraged men to take their economic advantage and use it to pursue their own pleasures. Hefner and the writers at Playboy recognized the earning power of men, and depicted women as a needless limit on the freedom and fun that could be attained with earnings. Hefner created an image of women as money hungry and as controlling men. Playboy was among the leading proponents of the “marriage is prison” ideology, and did so in an incredibly misogynistic way. Ehrenreich places Hefner’s new male persona not in the realm of sexuality, but in male consumption and “freedom” from domestic life. Though many see Playboy as the harbinger of sexuality and sexual freedom, she places much more weight on its cultural impact. “Playboy was not the voice of the sexual revolution, which began, at least overtly, in the sixties, but of the male rebellion, which had begun in the fifties.”[8] She argues that nude women in Playboy were simply a counter-balance to the ideas they were pushing about leaving the marriage behind.[9] If a man were to do as Hefner encouraged, to brush aside women and marriage to pursue his fine tastes, he would be outcast by other men, accused of being homosexual, having a mental disorder, or having a serious lack of responsibility. By placing nude women amongst the encouragement to spurn marriage and enjoy wine and fine art, Ehrenreich argues that the magazine was bolstering the idea of heterosexuality for these new gender rebels.

The Beat writers also represented a major departure from the idea of single-breadwinner households. Unlike Hefner, they threw both the corporate world and the institution of marriage aside, and embraced the rebel ideal. In a departure from the machismo-ridden rebellion from the era, the Beatniks’ pursued free (sometimes homosexual) sex, the bohemian lifestyle, and the fine arts. The Beats were a target of ridicule from the mainstream, government, and even Playboy, charging them with all of the classic ideas about men who resisted the breadwinner role: childish, effeminate, criminal, and mentally ill. The Beats were widely smeared by many different facets of society, being labeled as anti-intellectual and violent, though both were resoundingly untrue.[10]

While many men were rebelling against the “confines” of marriage, scientists were beginning to argue that the standard male breadwinner role was harmful to men, both physically and mentally. The 20th Century brought a peculiar shift in the life expectancy between the sexes. Throughout the 19th Century, men outlived women. In 1920, women outlived women by two years, and by 1970, women’s life expectancy was 8 years longer than men’s.[11] Women, who previously had much shorter life expectancies than men, were beginning to outlive men at increasing rates, and the predominant medical opinion began to shift from genetic factors to social factors that influenced lifestyles.[12] Heart disease and unhappiness was blamed on the stresses of work and living up to expectations, lending credibility to the dissent away from the breadwinner economy and familial struggle.

Ehrenreich finds the (re)emergence of women in the workplace through the 1960s to be essential to women’s liberation, though it ultimately failed to re-center the gendered economic system. Through the 1960s, women were entering the workforce at about one million per year, meaning that, “…the old financial pact between the sexes could, at the very least, be renegotiated…”[13] Men remained attached to their privilege, and the male workforce was still central to masculine conceptions during the era, with men that avoided the burden of breadwinning labeled as a “failure or a faggot.”[14] Ehrenreich argues for a slight shift in this masculine binary during the late 1960s, owing to the unpopularity of the Vietnam War and the horrific stories of returning veterans. [15] Cold War machismo also began to die off, leading to an “androgynous drift,” where mainstream American men slowly warmed up to the traits of the counterculture, such as sideburns, art, and wine. Ehrenreich argues that the loosening of machismoist masculinity was the primary reasoning behind women’s emergence, rather than the acceptance of women’s skills or the acknowledgement of civil rights and fairness. Ehrenreich also suggests that homosexuals were distanced from heterosexuals; either as a distinct alternative lifestyle, or that of a gay people throughout the early 1970s.[16] This distinction made it easier for men to “soften” without being labeled effeminate or homosexual.

As more women entered the workplace, social forces against single men loosened, further freeing men from marriage and the breadwinner role.  The men’s liberation movement allowed men to air their grievances about marriage as a criticism of the system, rather than a criticism of women.[17] In 1974, Warren Farrell came out with a successful book entitled The Liberated Man where he laid out twenty-one areas where men can benefit from women’s liberation.[18] Ideas about a “liberation from marriage” became much more accepted amongst the population through the 1960s and 1970s. In 1957, 53 percent of Americans believed that unmarried people were “sick,” “immoral,” or “neurotic;” by 1976, 33 percent had negative attitudes towards the unmarried, and many more were neutral or approving.[19]

Just as men were becoming more accepting of the feminist movement and an equalization of gender roles, an antifeminist assault began on the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). The backlash against the ERA, which would have rendered unconstitutional many state laws that limited women’s rights, was largely executed by women. These “antifeminists,” as Ehrenreich dubs them, hailed the ERA as an assault on women, which limited their “right to be housewives” and eliminated similar “privileges” that some women felt they had by not being expected to earn incomes.[20] Many of the women argued that the ERA would give men the full right to abandon women and no longer pay their way.[21] Ehrenreich compares several quotes from Phyllis Schlafly and other antifeminists to quotes from the misogynist Playboy, arguing that women spend all of men’s money and are dependent upon them to survive. Ehrenreich’s criticism of the antifeminist movement delves deeply into the movements connections with the John Birch Society and other right-wing organizations.[22]

Ehrenreich is, foremost, an activist and journalist, not a historian, and her background and focus do show through and cloud her historical analysis from time to time. She shows a lack of historicism, situating her narrative of ill-feelings, female dependence, and entrapment towards marriage as largely beginning in the 1950s. She blames this financial dependence on urbanization and industrialization, trends that began long before the 1950s, and she cites complaints that have been quite ubiquitous for at least a century, often flaring up during times of social change.[23] She doesn’t acknowledge that these predated her rebellion by quite some time. Though this may not derail her argument, she should acknowledge that these feelings existed for at least a generation, and these men may have had their own methods of rebellion that should be included or acknowledged. While her chosen time period may be the result of a tipping point that accelerated the issues or a variety of other factors, the past issues should not be ignored.

Ehrenreich’s study of the Beat Generation is a bit simplistic and underdeveloped, missing a very important aspect of their relationship with mainstream society. She cherry picks some examples of irresponsibility and rebellion against marriage (Kerouac and Cassidy abandoning women, Burroughs accidentally shooting his wife, Ginsberg’s homosexuality), and sums everything up by saying that they had their own sort of rebellious masculinity.[24] She ignores that these men were outcast by society at the same time that they were rejecting the socially prescribed responsibilities and norms. The three major Beat writers (Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Burroughs) were all disqualified from military service, thus alienating them from their generation, the “manly obligation” to serve their country, and the benefits that came to veterans. Although they did rebel against the corporate-matrimonial complex, they all carried these sorts of masculine suspicions prior to their rebellion, and were not subject to the “breadwinner subsidies” afforded to many other men of their generation. While this does not necessarily disqualify her argument, it certainly requires more delicate research and explanation than she currently has.

Ehrenreich’s final chapter on the ERA does something of a disservice to her overall argument. There is no doubt that her book is an appeal to men (and, to some extent, “antifeminists”) to pick up the feminist cause. Although her political motives are clear, her book is generally fair, well-researched, and informative. Her argument gets a bit lost in her section on antifeminists, as much of the chapter reads as a personal attack on Phyllis Schlafly and the other opponents of the ERA. Much of her criticism is focused on their ideas about women’s financial dependence on men and the “privilege” of not working, but the individual histories of antifeminists and their associations with the John Birch Society stand outside of the necessary arguments. Besides this slight departure, her argument stayed on track and was generally strong and concise. There were, however, a few places where she either missed an important topic, or could have scrutinized a topic more closely.

Although her focus was on the social and economic forces that created and upheld the breadwinner system, she fails to acknowledge the government’s role. Social security and some other welfare programs were only paid to men for much of this time, meaning that women were completely dependent for any public assistance.[25] There were many rules about property ownership that made it difficult or impossible for women to own businesses or land. Government support of the male breadwinner is an essential part of this narrative, and created a major barrier for women and excluded men to overcome.

Despite these shortcomings, however, Ehrenreich’s economic study of the family is a valuable contribution to the understanding of the changes that occurred to marriage in the 1950s and 1960s. Ehrenreich’s work certainly problematizes the long-standing idea of companionate marriage, which is largely based on the idea that marriage was becoming centered on mutual decision making, love, and affection. The historiography generally regards it as blossoming in the 1920s and coming to full fruition in the 1950s. However, Ehrenreich’s work places the financial bond between spouses – not shared decisions and emotions – as the underpinnings of marriage. Ehrenreich’s work clashes with the existing companionate narrative, showing that women were yet to have financial (that is, earning) power, and were tied to marriage by the system. Her work therefore calls for a serious re-situation of companionate marriage; reinserting the economic and necessity of marriage to men and women alike, with the companionate turn as a function of the slow undercurrent of a feminine presence in the public sphere. Once this economic and social dependence was loosened, companionship could more truly flourish.



[1]Barbara Ehrenreich, The Hearts of Men: American Dreams and the Flight from Commitment (Garden City, NY: Anchor Press, 1983), 4.

[2] Ehrenreich, 7-8.

[3] Ehrenreich, 15.

[4] Ehrenreich, 24, 34.

[5] Ehrenreich, 24.

[6] Ehrenreich, 34.

[7] Ehrenreich, 36.

[8] Ehrenreich, 51.

[9] Ehrenreich, 51.

[10] Ehrenreich, 58.

[11] Ehrenreich, 70.

[12] Ehrenreich, 70.

[13] Ehrenreich, 99.

[14] Ehrenreich, 104.

[15] Ehrenreich, 105.

[16] Ehrenreich, 128.

[17] Ehrenreich, 118.

[18] Ehrenreich, 118.

[19] Ehrenreich, 120.

[20] Ehrenreich, 146.

[21] Ehrenreich, 149.

[22] Ehrenreich, 157-60.

[23] Michael Kimmel’s Manhood in America: A Cultural History (New York: The Free Press, 1996) describes the way in which men in the 1920s complained about demanding women and the supposed feminization of the workplace. Sharon Ullman’s Sex Seen: The Emergence of Modern Sexuality in America (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997) finds that men during this time period created the “nag” archetype in movies that depicted women as overbearing and demanding in response to anxieties about the constraint of men.[23]

[24] Ehrenreich, 54.

[25] Margot Canaday, The Straight State: Sexuality and Citizenship in Twentieth-Century America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009), 132.

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Happy New Year!

Happy 2012, everyone! We’ll have a new article up soon. Until then, I hope everyone attending AHA 2012 has an enjoyable (and safe!) weekend. Hope to see you there.

-J.K. Friefeld

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Review: Myths in Military History

William Weir, Secrets of Warfare: Exposing the Myths and Hidden History of Weapons and Battles (Pompton Plains, New Jersey: New Page Books, 2011).

By: Jacob K. Friefeld

The holiday season often features grown children wandering through bookstores (or Amazon) searching for popular histories to buy dad (or perhaps mom) . This year, William Weir’s Secrets of Warfare: Exposing the Myths and Hidden History of Weapons and Battles could be just what the history lover in the family wants. In his new book, Weir attempts to set the record straight on several misconceptions in military history. At times his work achieves its goal like when it undermines narratives of deep cultural and historical roots for “Western” military supremacy or when it points out that while English archers may have been superior in number and firing speed to French crossbowmen, the longbow was not the perfect weapon as myth has raised it to be (17-26 and 48-49). However, at times, Weir is less helpful. For example, his claim that the first ironclad battle took place between Korea and Japan in the 1500s is problematic and hotly contested by a number of historians. Furthermore, more than one of his myths are awkwardly constructed. As in the case of his myth that “Latin American Warfare was Never Serious,” this myth seems little more than a straw man manufactured simply to allow Weir to discuss Latin American warfare. While I discourage professional historians from using this volume for anything other than supplementary readings in undergraduate courses, the lay reader may find Secrets of Warfare an entertaining introduction to military history.

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The Corrupt Network: Meanings of the Grand Rapids Water Scandal

Brian Sarnacki developed “The Corrupt Network” during History 970: Digital History Seminar at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. This digital project visualizes and explores some of the ideas from his Master’s thesis on the Grand Rapids water scandal and its larger meanings in the context of men of the slow adaptation of Progressive ethics.

The Corrupt Network

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On Our Way for the Sunny South, Land of Chivalry: Northern War Travelogues and the Southern Landscape

By: Kaci Nash

“On Our Way for the Sunny South, Land of Chivalry,” is a work of digital scholarship initially created by Kaci Nash in partial fulfillment of the requirements for a graduate research seminar in Digital History at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Both the project and research will be integrated into Nash’s Master’s thesis.

 

On Our Way for the Sunny South, Land of Chivalry

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Che Guevara’s Foquismo in Theory and Praxis

By: Grant Forssberg

History functions as the praxis of social scientific theory; empirical evidence of a theoretical postulate affirms its validity, while its absence serves as a quintessential foil. Perhaps no better example of this axiom exists than the development of a diverse philosophical school of ‘Neo-Marxists’ during the 20th century. Troubled by social and economic problems that conflicted with, or were seemingly unanswerable according to traditional Marxist thought, particularly the delay of socialist revolution when conditions seemed to favor it’s foment, the resurgence of past national identities at the expense of ideological solidarity between socialist states, and the revolutionary regression towards fascism before and during the Second World War, scholars like Herbert Marcuse, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Antonio Gramsci adapted  past Marxist/Leninist interpretations to recognize of the complexities of social, cultural, and political conditions. Unwilling to abandon the teleological construct of dialectical materialism with its assurance of the eventuality of revolution, these scholars turned their attention inward to critiques of method. The advent of critical cultural theory, including new forms of production such as mass consumerism indicated an increasingly complex sociocultural geography founded on more than economic status alone. They created new ‘objective’ revolutionary conditions. Marxist scholars also imagined new interpretations of the necessary ‘subjective’ conditions for revolution, particularly in respect to the development of the Marxist notion of ‘revolutionary consciousness,’

As the intellectual spokesman for socialist revolution in Latin America during the late 1950s and 1960s, guerilla fighter and veteran of the Cuban revolution, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, contributed from his experiences a unique set of interpretations of ‘objective’ and ‘subjective’ revolutionary conditions which he proposed for application in various Latin American contexts

His eclectic, pragmatic form of Marxism gained institutional adoption in Cuba during the 1960s and inspired revolutionaries continent-wide, some of whom he would personally lead on subsequent revolutionary campaigns in the Congo and Bolivia. The ‘Guevaran line’ also, however, drew vocal criticism from many in the so-called Latin American New Left and the ‘Old Line’ Communist Party of the Soviet Union.[1] Che’s vehement assertion of the primacy of guerilla focos, or concentrated cadres of revolutionaries—from which the descriptive term foquismo, or foco theory derived—in the revolutionary struggle neglected a range of more traditional, Marxist revolutionary outlets: mass organization, labor conflict, general strikes, among other civil alternatives.[2]  Moreover, Che proposed immediate armed insurrection as the preferred method of engendering revolutionary consciousness (again, the root of foqismo-a focal point, or focalism) in contrast to the gradualism espoused by many Marxists. Foquismo’s situation of the guerilla as revolutionary vanguard solicited structural questions about Guevara’s distinction between political and military revolutionary leadership, and the exact role and location of the foco within the larger class struggle, leading some Marxists to discount it as unsophisticated and simplistic.[3]

The onus ultimately falls to the historical record. The failure of foco in promoting revolution in Bolivia stands as its most glaring criticism. Acknowledging this, one of the primary concerns of the theorist or historian passing judgment on the merits of foquismo should be an comparative analysis of both the Cuban and Bolivian contexts in an attempt to determine what, if any, theoretical or pragmatic errors or inconsistencies contributed to foquismo’s success in one case and failure in the other. This essay represents a necessarily limited attempt to just that. A thorough portrait of the Cuban revolution reveals disparities in Guevara’s own appraisal of the Cuban revolution. The success of the sierra maestra formed the basis for Guevara’s claims for the centricity of guerilla cadre; however, participation in the revolution, as scholars have since argued, consisted of more than the sierras alone.[4] The mythologizing of the sierra by Guevara, Castro, and Cuban and contemporary scholars alike contributed to the marginalization of non-guerilla actors, particularly the llanos, or urban resistance, according to Julia Sweig.[5] Guevara’s incorrigible idealism and personal conviction, suggests that foquismo served as a self-empowering rationalization to him, in addition to the propagandistic iconography for the new Cuban state. Foquismo’s principle flaw lies in its totalizing application, ignoring as it does immutable geopolitical conditions in favor of subjective, actionable ones through the form of revolutionary consciousness.

The formal philosophy that would develop into Foquismo, as devised by Guevara, operated on three principal propositions: first, that “popular forces can win a war against the enemy;” second, that it “is not necessary to wait until all conditions for making a revolution exist; the revolution can create them;” and third, that “in underdeveloped America the countryside is the basic area for armed fighting.”[6] Each tenet constituted a perceived historical reality in revolutionary Cuba. Together they represent an ideological and actionable (tactical and strategic) synthesis. Guevara had developed an acute cognizance of the suffering of the Latin American rural peasantry from his extensive traveling of the South American continent that would later play an integral role in his motivation and methodology for revolution. He believed that Latin America constituted a unique context apart from other continental nations; its industrial underdevelopment, poverty, and exploitative agrarianism (Guevara refers to this as “feudal agrarianism”) created an unique rural, rather than urban proletariat, as is typically identified with traditional Marxist philosophy.[7]  Guevara revered the rural peasant at the expense of the urban worker, emphasizing their revolutionary potential as a result of the alienation and oppression of the latifundia,. The guerilla was inherently an “agrarian revolutionary,” whose responsibilities, a proxy to the Communist Party, were to uplift the peasantry in all facets, “technically, economically, morally, and culturally,” and stir in them revolutionary fervor.[8]

Several of these assertions undergirding foquismo are simplistic representations of the Cuban conflict they are based on. The emphasis on the rural population as a complement to the guerilla cadre belies the influence of the aforementioned urban constituency. Back when they were one of the several variegated revolutionary movements on the island, the sierra relied heavily on urban-based operatives for intelligence, armament, and political networking. Urban agents frequently aided the sierras independent of the central leadership of Castro and Guevara. [9]

The Revolutionary success of the sierra guerillas likely confirmed for Guevara that concentrated guerilla warfare was the optimal means to revolution.  Guevara, like all dialectical Marxists, believed in the eventuality of socialist revolution.[10] The debate, then, especially with the failure of seemingly advantageous conditions to materialize into socialist revolutions during the mid-Twentieth century, was how or what factors or actions would best precipitate it. Not the first to recognize the benefits of guerilla warfare, Guevara’s identification of guerillas as the embodiment of a subjective condition of revolution themselves diverges from previous interpretations of the utility of guerilla warfare. Marxists Mao Zedong and Lenin, as well as non-Marxists such as military theorists Carl von Clausewitz and T.E. Lawrence understood guerillas, or irregular forces, to be useful auxiliaries and extensions of regular military force.[11] Communist Party officials endorsed the use of ‘partisan’ warfare in Russia during the Second World War under extenuating circumstances, and under their direction.  In a case logistically consonant to the Cuban revolution, guerillas under Mao played an integral role in the Chinese communist revolution. However, in this case, too, the pretext for the utilization of guerilla troops hinged on convergence of objective structural conditions rather than the guerilla itself as catalyst.

The success of ‘will’ in Cuba  convinced Guevara to isolate guerilla warfare as a subjective condition in itself for revolutionary struggle. In a totalizing turn, Guevara all but abandoned the Leninist conception of the party as revolutionary vanguard, replacing it with the form and function of the guerilla cadre.[12] This is problematic for two reasons: first, pragmatically, any absolute insistence on method has the inherent effect of marginalizing the circumstances dictating it; second, theoretically, Guevara’s identification of the guerilla foco as a subjective condition by fiat confuses the latency of a structural condition with the activity of a social actor—one is acted upon while the other completes the action. While conditions can certainly be affected by social action—and arguably only are—to equate the two without clarification constitutes a significant category error.

Guevara’s eventual insistence on the wide-spread application of guerilla focos, regardless of location and geopolitical context, required at some level a uniform categorization of Latin American nations. In other words, any comparative analysis had to be leveled so a single formulation, guerilla insurgency, would be feasible elsewhere in Latin America. Guevara’s solution, as hinted at in his prescription, is a reliance on the objective condition that he argues all Latin American nations exhibit: industrial underdevelopment and exploitative agrarianism.[13] While this generalization may hold true in many cases, it further neglects a wide range of different economic, political, and social nuances that would render each nation a unique revolutionary context in and of itself. While Guevara is undoubtedly cognizant of many of these complexities (indeed, given his travels he probably witnessed many firsthand) he rationalized them away through his artificial construction of  foco, enabling each Latin American nation to psychically conform to his revolutionary ideal through guerilla warfare. The moment of this ideal and its translation into action is best evidenced in Guevara’s own intellectual development. From the time he had published his first major theoretical work, Guerilla Warfare, in 1960, until his death in 1967, foquismo had expanded from “Caribbean type” dictatorships exemplified by Cuba under Batista, to all of Latin America.[14]

While Bolivia fulfilled Guevara’s formulaic caricature of economic disparity and an impoverished peasantry, it had several factors that militated against a successful guerilla-led revolution.[15] During previous decades, Bolivia had undergone significant agrarian reform which left the country with no significant land problem, decreasing the likelihood of the indigenous population supporting an insurrection. Though the incumbent government of General Rene Barrientos had removed a democratically elected administration in seizing power, his administration had significant popular support. The oft expressed concerns over the suitability of armed struggle when civil alternatives had not yet been exhausted came to bear on Guevara in Bolivia, further tempering the social elements Guevara hoped to awaken.

The failure of the foco in Bolvia epitomized the simplistic prescription of foquismo and its inability to both account for variance in geopolitical conditions and to treat it with serious regard. Perhaps the best evaluation of foquismo comes from Guevara’s compatriots, who shared with him the vision of socialist revolution but disputed, often contentiously, his assuredness in his methods.  Marxists in Latin America and elsewhere found Guevara’s absolute insistence on guerilla focos stultifying. Guevara’s foquismo ignored traditional Marxian debates, settling instead for the sweeping revolutionary dictates of what one Marxist scholar tellingly labeled ‘Guevaran adventurism.’[16] Paramount among these concerns was the disregard of the formal Communist party as revolutionary vanguard and civil forms of resistance, change, and any sort of revolutionary timeline.  The ‘Guevara line’ mandated action now, without hesitations. For his part, Guevara remained intractable on the “ideological guidance” provided by the guerilla cadres, and the necessity of armed conflict to “carry reforms in Cuba all the way and with no concessions, like Mexico, Guatemala, or Bolivia.”[17]  Delegates from the Marxist Tri-Continental Conference in 1966 contrasted Guevara’s foquismo with a more variable prescription for the organization of a revolutionary movement that held to the idea of revolutionary process from self-sustaining conditions.[18]

The extent to which foquismo lived and died with Che Guevara is evident in his legacy. In Cuba, his death spelled the end of his ideological direction of foreign policy, pronouncing in no short measure that the idea would not outlive the man. However, in geographical regions near and far and especially Latin America, Guevara was extolled as a revolutionary martyr and his ideas fused into revolutionary rhetoric and agenda. Guevara’s principles of guerilla warfare and his epithet of foquismo contributed to many of the anti-political and terrorist regime that haver seized power in Latin America since 1964, as well as the responses to them by the superpowers of the United States and the Soviet Union.[19] For its theoretical shortsightedness, the fundamental strength of foquismo is indistinguishable from Che Guevara himself.  As long as Guevara remains a cultural inspiration for revolutionaries, Marxist or otherwise, his ideology will have import. Their successes or failures will only have to wait.



[1] Guevara, 15.

[2] Guevara, 16.

[3] Ibid.

[4] The historiography in the two decades after the Cuban revolution responded favorably to the official reproductions of the conflict emanating from the Cuban state, in part, it seems, because of a lack of source material with which to base accounts. In the 1980s, more critical interpretations of the revolution began to emerge, aided in the 1990s by increased access to archival material relating to the subject.

[5] Julia Sweig, Inside the Cuban Revolution: Fidel Castro and the Urban Underground, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2002).

[6] Guevara, 48.

[7] Guevarra, 183.

[8] Guevara, 51.

[9] Chapters 1-3 in Julia Sweig, Inside the Cuban Revolution cover the organization of the urban llano network

[10] Guevara, 182.

[11] Guevara, 3.

[12] Guevara, 183-4.

[13] Guevara, 183.

[14] Guevara, 12,419.

[15] Thomas C. Wright, Latin America in the Era of the Cuban Revolution (Westport: Praeger, 2001), 82-3.

[16] Guevara, 12.

[17] Guevara, 164.

[18] Guevara, 13.

[19] Guevara, 29.

 

 

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Review: Combining Labor and Environmental History, a View from Colorado Coal Mines

Thomas G. Andrews, Killing for Coal: America’s Deadliest Labor War (Cambridge, MA. and London: Harvard University Press, 2008).

By: Jacob K. Friefeld

In Killing for Coal, Thomas Andrews attempts to provide a holistic view of history during the long period leading up to the Ludlow Massacre.  Along with human to human interactions during the period, Andrews takes into account human contact with the environment and the impact it had on the world in which the miners lived.

Beginning with an account of writer turned industrialist William Jackson Palmer, Andrews weaves a story of Palmer’s initial good intentions deferred by a confluence of nature and human interest.  Palmer had dreamed of creating a combined railroad and coal monopoly in Colorado where he would treat his workers to what we would consider modern benefits like stock options (47-49).  However, his eventual success led to an industrial explosion and unforeseen degradation of the air and waterways around Denver and Pueblo.

While labor was originally scarce in Colorado, families migrated from New Mexico, the East, and overseas to work in the growing industrial center.  Andrews is at his best when describing the working conditions, or workscapes, of the Colorado miners.  To Andrews, a workscape represents the interaction of a laborer working on the environment in some way.  In this way, culture and nature become one as the work is performed (125). The workscapes of the Colorado colliers were dangerous.  Facing multiple risks from cave-ins, floods, air impurity and fire, laborers routinely had to make the choice between wages and safety as they watched their coworkers become “the hidden costs” of dependence on fossil fuels (140).  According to Andrews, the shared dangers and loses from their workscape helped form a solidarity among the colliers that resulted in a radical politics of grassroots labor organization.

While strong in his discussion of workscapes, Andrews’ shallow treatment of gender forms the weakest point of Killing for Coal. While he includes a discussion of manliness in Chapter Five, his analysis could have been sharper. At one point, Andrews refers to miners who “risked their lives simply to silence their co-workers’ taunts” as possessing “stupid masculinity” (173). Instead of dismissing these men as simply stupid, Andrews could have delved deeper into what these insults symbolized to the men in the mine giving us a deeper understanding of how these “stupid” men understood their surroundings and their duties as men. Furthermore, Andrews uses the terms manliness and masculinity interchangeably though the men he studies would have likely understood these terms as having different meanings. As historian Gail Bederman points out in her Manliness and Civilization, manliness dealt with a man’s admirable qualities while masculinity described qualities that pertained to all men. Indeed, the very term masculinity, during the period Andrews discusses, found itself in a state of flux increasingly being tied to ideas of racial dominance and civilization.[1] It is possible that Andrews’ book would have benefited from not discussing gender at all.

These criticisms aside, Andrews, in the rich tradition of historians like William Cronon, combines traditional sources from newspapers and court records with agricultural and geographical records as well as some architectural plans to provide a view of the Colorado colliers’ uprising.  Furthermore, Andrews provides future labor and environmental historians with a new category of analysis called a workscape that, while still in need of further development, presents a way to combine the history of humanity with the history of nature in our age of increasing environmental awareness.



[1] Gail Bederman, Manliness and Civilization: A Cultural History of Gender and Race in the United States, 1880-1917 (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1995), 17-19.

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Zulu Dawn: A View of Imperial Decline

The following was a lecture delivered by Albert W. Vogt III at the Pritzker Military Library in Chicago on August 13, 2011 as part of the library’s Film Lecture Series.  Albert W. Vogt III is a past contributor to HistoryRoll.com, with a past lecture in the same series posted here as well as an essay on Cold War cinema.

Zulu Dawn

  • Zulu Dawn, released in 1979, contains both remarkable qualities and forgettable traits.  As a product of the 1970s, the English made film evidences the malaise felt by a post-Empire Great Britain struggling to find a purpose after centuries of self-made colonial glory.  As the Union Jack was struck in far-flung parts of the world, from India to Belize, the decades long process took an extended toll on British culture.  Therefore, keeping in mind the decline of the British Empire adds extra meaning to the viewing of Zulu Dawn.  Coming 100 years after the actual battle of Isandlwana, the climax of the movie, the timing of the film contrasts the height of the British Empire with its low point.  The ultimate message of the film seems to be that the once ballyhooed glory of Imperial gain was not without a terrible price.  As such, the average Brit seeing Zulu Dawn with a memory of what Great Britain used to be might then look upon past imperial conquests with a more jaundiced eye.
  • Zulu Dawn also contrasts with Zulu, a movie made fifteen years prior that focuses on the siege of Rorke’s Drift.  The two are related not simply because of their titles, but also because the siege at Rorke’s Drift took place on the heels of the battle at Isandlwana.  In fact, the opening scene of Zulu depicts the aftermath of Isandlwana, with dead British soldiers strewn about.  The siege at Rorke’s Drift seen in Zulu pays homage to the stalwart British redcoats standing against “savage” hordes in the name of Queen and Country.  In 1964, such gestures still had some glimmer of meaning despite crumbling Imperial holdings.  Indeed among the English inhabitants of British South Africa in Zulu Dawn, there seems to be reluctance for some to fight the Zulu at all.  Even Colonel Durnford, played by a rather aged though sprightly Burt Lancaster, recommends a measure of caution throughout in coming to grips with the Zulu Impis, as the Zulu warriors were called.
  • Still, in the context of the film, Colonel Durnford represents one of the few voices of descent, albeit a small one, in the coming war with the Zulu.  By and large, the brass of the British army, headed by Lord Chelmsford played by Peter O’Toole, appear eager to invade Zulu land, an act all seem to be aware would inevitably lead to war.  Added to their eagerness for bloodshed is what can be labeled, even to the untrained eye, as the lunacy of the British officers.  In watching Zulu Dawn, I was reminded more than once of John Cleese’s portrayal of a British officer in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, sitting with maddening calm in a setting similar to the climactic moments in Zulu Dawn and shaving his whiskers as if nothing more bothersome were going on than the loss of his mirror.  The last thing I will add to this aside is that The Meaning of Life came out only four years after Zulu Dawn.  Similar lunacy is on display in Zulu Dawn in several instances, and their compounding upon one another, the movie suggests, leads to the slaughter of so many British troops (and I apologize if that spoils the movie).  From ornate dinner parties held by the officer’s mess while on the march to the insistence on rules and regulations even while swarms of Zulu Impis overran their positions, it becomes painfully obvious why the Zulus triumphed at Isandlwana.  And it is through the mishandling of events by officers, from Lord Chelmsford on down, that the mission of empire becomes distasteful since it leads to so much death and destruction.
  • Despite the moments of insanity from the British officers, director Douglas Hickox took pains to demonstrate parallels between British Colonial and Zulu societies.  The first half of the film features equal focus on both the Zulu and the English, establishing many of the characters involved and the reasons why each are destined to meet on the field of battle.  Hickox seems to want to say that the two societies are both war-like, though the good fight is being fought by the Zulus in defense of hearth and home.  There are flashes of bravery from both sides during the battle too, though warfare in Zulu Dawn has a savagery that feeds into the overall message that the fight was somehow wrong, that the Zulus were justified in defending their lands, and the empire profits little but the blood of the British soldier.
  • As a movie, Zulu Dawn has little else to recommend it in terms of plot and character development.  None of the characters involved have much of anything resembling an arc where they are in one state at the beginning of the film and are changed by events at the end of it.  The thrust of the plot is to lead up to the battle of Isandlwana.  What is impressive about the movie, however, is its epic scale.  First of all, the amount of extras used for shooting becomes apparent within the first few minutes when we see the inhabitants of the Zulu kraal.  The number of extras is due in large part to the collaboration of the actual Zulu Nation in the making of Zulu Dawn.  The one unfortunate part of their involvement is that the viewer is not treated to the organized maneuvers the Zulu normally displayed in battle, which you can better see in 1964’s Zulu.  Still, it is gratifying to see not only large numbers of Zulu Impis, but also lines of British redcoats and brown uniformed native regiments.  When seeing the British column marching over the landscape, my only thought was: cool.  Also, the makers of Zulu Dawn did well to film on location in the Natal region of South Africa where the actual fighting took place.  The location, taken together with the large numbers of extras, gives Zulu Dawn realism in its scope.  Still, what gives the film its best quality is its reminder of the folly of empire.


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Happy Birthday To Us

This month, in place of a book review, I will be self-servingly wishing the History Roll a happy first birthday. When Peter Thoma and I started this site, we saw it as a place where graduate students, professors, and those generally interested in history could present their work, interact, and point us to other solid history sites on the web.

While I think we accomplished our initial goals, there is definitely room for improvement. With our early goals in mind, I spoke with a few of our contributors about what they thought the History Roll had become. The best description we came up with was a blog-journal, or blournal. This description highlights our strength as a place on the web that presents full-length articles and book reviews that are accessible to both an academic and non-academic audience.  However, the History Roll has also replicated the heavy-handedness of the journal in an age in which Web 2.0 has made reader/member participation and interaction a must. In our second year we hope to improve reader participation at all levels, increase overall content, and look for ways to improve the usability and readability of our content within the wordpress format.

We thank you for reading and look forward to another year.

-J.K. Friefeld

 

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News Boys: Constructing Masculinity in the Arsenal of Democracy

By: Brandon Locke

I began my work on the Hastings Naval Ammunitions Depot with the intention of researching the masculine bachelor subculture during WWII, which I thought would be magnified by the massive migration of young men to the small town in central Nebraska. Once I came across some copies of the Depot’s weekly newspaper, Powder Keg, it became clear that the bachelor subculture was in fact the dominant culture for the sailors stationed there, as well as for the men and women who worked there. The newspaper was filled with misogynistic depictions of women, accounts of sexual conquests, and stories about past achievements in sports and the battlefields. These stories of triumphs, both sexual and athletic, past and present, were pulled from the locker rooms and became prime entertainment in the small community. This project is a quantitative study of the prevalence and type of masculine discourse exhibited in the paper, as well as an archive to showcase some of the articles.

News Boys

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