Book Reviews
Black Detroit and the Rise of the
UAW. By August Meier and Elliott Rud-
wick. (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1979. xii + 289p.; notes,
illustrations, bibliographical essay,
index. $15.00.)
The gulf of suspicion and hostility
between the black community and
labor that derived from the AFL craft union's
systematic exclusion of blacks
and occasional black strikebreaking was
wider in Detroit than elsewhere in
the industrial north in the 1930s. In
Detroit Henry Ford had furthered the
gulf by his unique policy of hiring
large numbers of blacks at all levels in
his Dearborn plant and by cultivating a
close relationship with leading
black ministers and politicians, several of whom served
as Ford employ-
ment agents. With the emergence of the
UAW in 1936 as an industrial
union determined to organize all
industrial workers and a leftwing lead-
ership committed to racial equality, a
black and labor alliance gradually
developed in Detroit. The transformation
of Detroit blacks from pro-
industry to pro-union was both dramatic
and ironic because the turning
point occurred during the Ford strike of
1941. The mutual support of Detroit
blacks and the UAW during the Ford
strike developed into a fast alliance on
behalf of black advancement and
integration during World War II. August
Meier and Elliott Rudwick have
thoroughly researched the archives of
black organizations, the UAW, and
federal agencies and have made exten-
sive use of the Negro press and oral
histories to construct a fresh and
engrossing story of this transformation
of black and labor relations.
In several respects, Meier and Rudwick
propose revisions of the tradition-
al understanding of black and labor
relations in the auto industry. For
instance, the authors show that NAACP
Secretary Walter White's memoirs
portray the relations between the NAACP
and the UAW at the time of the
1941 Ford strike as more amicable and
trusting than was actually the case.
Meier and Rudwick also show that in
spite of the UAW's strong rhetorical
commitment to racial equality, the
union's actual progress in integrating
the workplace, securing equality clauses
in collective bargaining agree-
ments, and electing blacks to union
office was highly uneven and generally
disappointing. Several of Meier and
Rudwick's other interpretations are
less enlightening than these.
Meier and Rudwick dispute the view that
Henry Ford hired large num-
bers of black workers to divide the
workforce and discourage unionism.
Rather, the authors suggest, Ford's
policy toward blacks stemmed from "a
genuine philanthropic impulse."
Though it was quite true, as the authors
point out, that Ford's benevolence
extended to other disadvantaged groups
besides blacks and extended beyond his
employment policy to support for
the research of George Washington Carver
and to underwritng the rehabil-
itation of the black community of
Inkster, the element of self-interest in
Ford's benevolence was greater than
Meier and Rudwick admit. Ford be-
friended ex-convicts who manned the
fearsome Service Department. He
befriended unemployed youths whom he
hired to replace men working at
higher wages. Ford befriended the black
community, and in return he got a
78 OHIO HISTORY
loyal black workforce. Also, as Keith
Sward pointed out in The Legend of
Henry Ford, Ford
used his benevolence to buy Republican votes in the black
community and to seize control of the
Wayne County Republican Party.
When Ford's philanthropy failed to
produce the expected results - when
black Detroit voted Democratic in 1940
and supported the UAW in large
numbers in 1941 - Ford's purse strings
suddenly tightened. Moreover,
during World War II, after the UAW
organized Ford, the company as the
authors indicate, "became the most
discriminatory among Detroit's large
corporations." So much for the
"genuine philanthropic impulse."
In two other areas, Meier and Rudwick
reach conclusions that fly in the
face of their own evidence. The authors
argue that the Communists played
no special role in shaping the union's
racial policies, because "the Commun-
ists within the union were usually very
similar to other factional groupings
in the way they acted on racial
matters." The question of similarity of views
proves nothing about the importance of
Communist influence, since it could
merely indicate that those advocating
racial equality had won general
acceptance for this idea. The real
question was who initiated and pushed the
issue of equality. On this question,
Meier and Rudwick's evidence points to
the important if not unique role of the
left: "Most of the early black UAW
staff organizers were either Communists
or ex-Communists, and the Com-
munists in the union were strongly
identified in the early 1940s with the
blacks' desire for representation in the
International Executive Board."
Moreover, on the question of black representation
on the International
Executive Board, a similarity of views
was lacking, since the Communist
group supported a special seat for a
black representative, and the Reuther
group opposed it.
Another dubious assessment made by Meier
and Rudwick concerns the
"crucial" role they attribute
to the federal bureaucracies in bringing about
the job advances that blacks made in the
auto industry during World War
II. The authors go so far as to suggest
that this experience shows "the way in
which federal bureaucracies can create
social change." The facts that Meier
and Rudwick present hardly back this
conclusion. Rather, the authors show
that in the face of stubborn employer
resistance to hiring and upgrading
blacks, the federal wartime agencies
(with some individual exceptions)
acted weakly and hesitatingly when they acted at all, and when they did
act, more often than not the vocal and
persistent demands of the UAW,
black workers, and black community
leaders provided the "crucial" motiva-
tion.
That different conclusions can be drawn
from this book than those in-
tended by the authors is a tribute to
the density and richness of the story
they tell.
New York State School of Industrial
and Roger Keeran
Labor Relations/Cornell University
Fall of the Peacock Throne: The Story
of Iran. By William H. Forbis. (New
York: Harper and Row, 1980. viii +
305p.; illustrations, bibliography,
index. $15.95.)
The dustjacket of this book forbode a
potboiler in the worst tradition. The
part on the title before the colon is
printed in Islamic green; that after in
Book Reviews
79
Bolshevik red. Even if this much credit
for manipulating symbols can be
granted to the publishers, it would
still jangle the sensitivities of a Middle
Eastern specialist, let alone an Iranian
specialist who comprehended the
de-Islamizing attempts of Mohammad Reza
Shah Pahlavi. The dustjacket
further alerts readers to the fact that
the author, William H. Forbis, also
wrote Japan Today: People, Place,
Power, of which Fall of the Peacock seems
to be a replica in format. Opposite the
title page it is noted that the author
also penned The Cowboys. It may
well be, at least in the author's mind, that
modern Japan and cowboys have more in
common with modern Iran and its
revolution than is noted in the book
itself.
The title is further misleading in that
with the exception of the first and
last chapters, which were obviously
tacked on after most of the book had
been written, there is little
information in the book regarding the reasons
for the Iranian revolution of 1978-80.
Judging from the author's own state-
ments, most of the research and travel
for the book were done in the middle
1970s; the latest interview with
prominent Iranians, e.g., Prime Minister
Amir Abbas Hoveyda, took place in 1976.
As a result, the tacked on chap-
ters, one and sixteen, do not jive with
the in-between chapters. The reader
will not look to this book to gain
information, let alone insight, into the
reasons for the 1978-80 revolution. The
one exception is the last sentence in
which the author states, "And so
they [the Iranians] rose up in a mass
revolution the like of which the world
has rarely seen." The reviewer agrees
whole-heartedly with this statement. The
remaining decades of this century
will be much concerned with the short
and long term effects of the Iranian
revolution in all of its variegated
characteristics and its multiple nuanced
manifestations. It is the single most
important event in the Middle East and
the Islamic World since the creation of
the Safavid state itself during the
first decade of the sixteenth century.
The book does include some pleasant
reading if one treats it for what it is:
an introduction to Iran, directed to the
uninformed public. Furthermore, the
reader must keep in mind the author's
discussion of "Iranian national char-
acter" is patterned on James
Morier's (1780-1849), The Adventures of Haiji
Baba of Ispahan which depicted Iranians as full of deception, cheaters,
hypocrites, full of guile, knaves and
possessors of a host of other mendacious
traits. Whatever defects the Iranians as
a people may possess, one hardly
feels assured when a restaurant waiter
in non-color coordinated trousers,
is somehow characterized by the author
as representative of a peculiar
Iranian penchant for sloppiness; plus
the fact they cannot add. Restaurant
waiters are made responsible only by the
calculator wielding ubiquitous
westerner! And wielding justice, at least
regarding the price of a meal as
well, no doubt.
In spite of the mentioned drawbacks of
this book, the chapters on Persian
cuisine, music and life in Tehran are
enjoyable. If the book had ended on
page 216 and had been issued in
paperback for $2.95, it would have fulfilled
a need of presenting aspects of Iranian
culture of which little is known in
the West, and at the same time it would
have provided some welcome relief
from the deluge of political information
and propaganda with which we
have been deluged the past two years. As
for politics, the author simply
could not make the transition from
khoresht to Khomeini - to understand
the latter the reader must turn
elsewhere.
University of Kentucky Robert Olson
80 OHIO HISTORY
Operation Sunrise: The Secret
Surrender. By Bradley F. Smith and
Elena
Agarossi. (New York: Basic Books,
Publishers, 1979. vii + 234p.; illus-
trations, notes, bibliography, index.
$11.95.)
Spy thrillers have always been strong
elixir to American readers, young
and old (I remember well the enthusiasm
my children had for Harriet, the
Spy), but especially when the story is from real life. In
1968, Barbara
Tuchman set a model for true spy stories
in The Zimmerman Telegram, a
fascinating account of intrigue and
undercover action relating to myste-
rious German and Mexican communications
in World War I that hinted
strongly of Mexico's possible
intervention in the war against the United
States. Historian Tuchman captured the
fancy of spy enthusiasts with her
meticulous but exciting unraveling of
clandestine negotiations, code-
breaking, secret diplomacy and threats
of violence.
More recently authors of spy thrillers
have captured popular imagina-
tions with the use of a new moral twist,
distinguishing somewhat less
positively between what is good and what
is bad, who is right and who is
wrong. Those heroes of yesterday, often
the agents of FBI, CIA or OSS, give
way to less provincial stereotypes, characters
with less provincial morality.
New heroes operate beyond the law and
accepted values, usually defending
their actions in the name of national
security. Shades of Watergate! Novel-
ists from Ian Fleming to John Le Carre
have led this parade, and their
works have reached approving audiences
around the world.
In Operation Sunrise, Bradley F.
Smith and Elena Agarossi seize upon all
the elements of the spy thriller, both
the old and the new, to produce
another dramatic true life adventure
story in their unveiling of one of the
most interesting secret operations of
World War II, the surrender of several
German units on the Italian frontier in
early 1945, an operation known by
the code name "Sunrise." This,
too, is often a story of intrigue, diplomacy
and possibly duplicity in actions that
still cry for further explanation.
National security was again at stake and
the characters in this story who
move across its pages reveal the same
complexity of person and the same
single-mindedness of purpose as the intriguers
in the best novels.
It was General Karl Wolff, commander in
chief of the Nazi SS, who first
initiated the conversations for a
proposed surrender in northern Italy. It
was Allen Dulles of the American OSS who kept the issue of a separate
surrender alive for the Allies.
Underlying motivations for such a plan on
the part of the Nazis seem fairly easy
to discern, at least the basics. With
the major German military forces bottled
up by Allied advances from East
and West, General Wolff and his associates
from the Nazi party hoped to
negotiate a surrender on at least some
of their terms. This would then give
them some say in the reconstruction of
postwar Germany. It was obvious
that the German leaders preferred to
surrender to the western Allies in-
stead of Russia. The Russians, already
moving in fast, undoubtedly had
other plans.
What motivated the OSS leaders is not
quite clear. In "Sunrise," there is
the strong suggestion of an attempt by a
fledgling organization to embellish
its reputation, one that often suffered measurably in comparison with the
more efficient British Intelligence. OSS's leaders,
including General Wil-
liam Donovan and Dulles, no "shrinking
violets" in the promotion of their
Book Reviews
81
own causes, may have viewed this as too
good an opportunity to upgrade
their organizations and their own
careers. Though the authors of this book
do not agree, there is the feeling among
some that the United States may
have been willing to screen Russia out
of any negotiations that threatened
our own security or that of Western
Europe.
Operation Sunrise is well researched, with much dependence upon recent-
ly cleared OSS sources as well as
documents from the European partici-
pants. It is well-written, though hardly
in the majestic Tuchman style. In
extensive detail its authors minimize
the importance of"Sunrise," however,
by suggesting a comic opera setting,
"a political burlesque," that accompa-
nied the continuing efforts of Wolff and
Dulles in their negotitaions. They
suggest the affair to be of much less
importance than Dulles did in his own
account, Secret Surrender (New
York, 1966). They also minimize the sta-
ture of Dulles as a negotiator, and
there are the several "bizarre" stories of
Dulles as a spy that still float about
and raise questions about his effective-
ness.
Secret negotiations for peace are not
new to students of American history
or to the American people. Witness the
meetings before Yorktown among
the French, British, and Americans, as
well as Abraham Lincoln's secret
meetings with Confederate agents late in
the Civil War. But the Dulles-
Wolff episode has ties too close to
contemporary problems and situations to
keep it from still haunting
international affairs. Though the authors mini-
mize the effects "Sunrise" had
on the Russians and on the final surrender, it
obviously was one more factor in the
deterioration of a detente that the war
produced. It was, in all probability,
another thread in the fabric that became
the continuing "cold war."
Wittenburg University Robert Hartje
The Brethren: Inside the Supreme
Court. By Bob Woodward and Scott Arm-
strong. (New York: Simon and Schuster,
1979. 467p.; illustrations, notes,
index. $13.95.)
The Brethren, written by two Washington newspaper reporters, narrates
the work of the Supreme Court from the
1969 through the 1975 terms, the
first seven years of Warren Burger's chief justiceship.
The authors wisely
avoid recapitulating every case;
instead, they emphasize the court's treat-
ment of abortion, capital punishment,
the exclusionary rule, desegregation,
Watergate, and the Pentagon Papers.
Insightful and humorous vignettes
are sprinkled throughout the book's
seven chapters. For example, at their
first meeting, Thurgood Marshall
reportedly jolted newly apointed Chief
Justice Burger with the greeting: "What's shakin',
Chiefy baby" (p. 59).
According to Woodward and Armstrong,
three themes emerged from the
Court's work during these years. First,
the court gradually moved toward
the moderate center; Justices Stewart,
White, Powell, and Stevens dis-
placed the liberal orthodoxy of the
Warren court and reconciled constitu-
tional development with divergent social
and political tensions. Second,
Richard Nixon's effort to instill strict
constructionism in the court failed
because of Chief Justice Burger's
supposedly petty and devious methods and
limited legal talents. Third, the
justices reached decisions through a conten-
82 OHIO HISTORY
tious process of negotiatons. In one
particularly rancorous encounter, Byron
White allegedly shocked Potter Stewart
into switching his vote by challeng-
ing Stewart's stance as a
"chickenshit position" (p. 407).
The authors too often confuse the rich
detail they have mined with
genuine insight, a symptom of the extent
to which they fall victim to their
sources. They pierced the veil of the
court's secrecy by gaining records
filched from the justices' files and
through interviews with some of the
justices and their clerks.
Unfortunately, in journalism and history there is
no such thing as a free lunch; Woodward
and Armstrong had to agree not to
reveal their sources. There is no way to
know how much critical material
they acquired, how they used the
material they did gain, and what other
evidence might corroborate their
sources. It may well be that Chief Justice
Burger, who refused to cooperate with
the authors and emerges as the
villain of the piece, was a
politically-motivated paranoid who kept gun-
toting chauffeurs, wrote
"appalling" opinions, and frequently made "an ass
of himself' (pp. 135, 103, 288). Yet
given the liberal leanings of many court
clerks and of the authors, this
description seems more a self-serving carica-
ture than an even-handed assessment.
Confidence in the authors' abilities to
extract meaningful generalizations
from their confidential sources would be
bolstered had they displayed grea-
ter command of the court's public
record. To cite a few examples, in the
Detroit school busing case (Milliken v.
Bradley), the district court's deseg-
regation order was broader not narrower
than an order applied to the Char-
lotte public schools. The Detroit order
included 54 school districts, only one
of which was accused of racial
segregation. In Griswold v. Connecticut Jus-
tice Douglas wrote for a majority not a
plurality. Earl Warren's opinion in
Trop v. Dulles, a case involving loss of citizenship,
did not provide an effec-
tive ruling on the cruel and unusual
punishment clause of the 8th Amend-
ment. The court during the 1930s did not
use the 14th Amendment to
strike down New Deal programs; that
amendment applies almost solely
against the states and not the federal
government. Ex parte Quirin involved
Nazi saboteurs landed by submarine, not
American citizens of German
heritage. If Woodward and Armstrong
could misname the Yale Law Jour-
nal and the law school of the University of California at
Berkeley, they
could also misread and misinterpret the
Justices' more complex internal
memoranda.
Books that quote verbatim conversations
among justices (and in one inst-
ance Burger and his wife!) assume a
heavy burden of proof. The Brethren
does not meet it. The result is
fascinating reading but dubious history.
Wayne State University Kermit L. Hall
The Urban Crucible: Social Change,
Political Consciousness, and the Ori-
gins of the American Revolution. By Gary B. Nash. (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1979. xix + 548p.;
illustrations, tables, figures, appen-
dix, notes, index. $18.50.)
In The Urban Crucible Gary Nash
essays an intensive analysis of social,
economic, and political relationships
and changes over almost 100 years
Book Reviews
83
(1690-1776) in Boston, Philadelphia, and
New York. Working on the
assumption that the colonial
"seaboard commercial cities were the cutting
edge of economic, social, and political
change," and that they "predicted the
future" (p. vii), Nash demonstrates
that these urban centers became cruci-
bles of revolution following generations
of cumulative tension, distrust, and
strife between the laboring classes and
the ruling elites. Concentrating on
the lives of the poor and the
economically repressed (seamen, unskilled
workers, artisans, and others at the
lower end of the economic scale), Nash
further contends that rising class
consciousness among laborers, and their
increasing participation in the
political process, led to a breakdown in defer-
ence by the poor toward the rich. The
result, Nash argues, was the crumb-
ling of the ancient, organic ideal of
hierarchical and harmonious commun-
ity, and the emergence of new social
relationships "where men struggled
against each other rather than working
harmoniously for the mutual good
of the whole society" (p. 384).
Nash's book fits clearly into the genre
of revisionist history of the school
that espouses conflict rather than
consensus and continuity as the operative
mode of historical development. Indeed,
in his preface and at points
throughout the book, Nash frankly points
out that the evidence he adduces
and the conclusions he draws are
strongly at variance with those who dis-
miss class consciousness and class
conflict as significant in early American
history. Nash generally avoids a
polemical tone, but on occasion he repri-
mands historians who, in his opinion,
refuse to acknowledge that those at
the bottom of society have the ability
to perceive their interest as a class,
and act upon those interests. These
little homilies, infrequent though they
are, reveal Nash's intense involvement
with his subject, but are really
unnecessary to his argument. On the
whole, The Urban Crucible is
grounded in painstaking analysis of a
vast and diverse array of primary and
secondary sources. A good deal of this
data - inventories, tax lists, poor
relief statistics, and wills - has
hitherto been little used, certainly not in a
major appraisal of the quality of life
for those at the bottom of the colonial
urban structure.
One of the most remarkable and
successful aspects of The Urban Crucible
is its format. It is organized in
several ways, an approach that could easily
be confusing, but which, on careful
reading, proves effective in dealing with
a variety of major and sub-themes. Using
a chronological framework, Nash
considers topics such as the rise of
popular and factional politics, war and
inter-war political, social and economic
developments, the effect of the
Great Awakening, and revolutionary
ideologies. Within these broad cate-
gories he employs a comparative
approach, examining concurrently the
process of change in the three port
cities. Nash is thus able to examine
similarities and differences in the
complex matrix of urban life. That he
does so in great detail, handling an
immense amount of material while
relating a cluster of sub-themes to the
organizational and intellectual de-
velopment of the urban laboring classes,
is very much to his credit as a
writer as well as a scholar.
Much of Nash's material is not
quantifiable, but he does use quantifica-
tion to good effect in establishing the
unequal distribution of wealth be-
tween the elite few (especially
merchants) and the laboring many. There is,
however, a sometimes uncomfortable
disjunction between the "scientific"
method of quantification, bolstered by
an appendix of tables and figures,
84 OHIO HISTORY
and his frequent recourse to a more
traditional, impressionistic method to
determine why the working classes acted
as they did in particular situa-
tions.
Nash concludes that it was the
recognition on the part of the laboring
classes of the disparity of wealth and
power between the haves and the
have-nots and the unwillingness of the
laboring classes to accept that dis-
parity that resulted in the shattering
of "the equilibrium of the old system
of social relations" in the 1760s
and 1770s. One must question how Nash
can maintain that the old system of
social relations was shattered while
asserting that "no social
revolution occurred in the 1770s" (p. 383), a ques-
tion especially vexing in light of
Nash's argument that there was a near
100-year buildup to just such an event.
The final chapter, "Revolution,"
provides no answer, but points the way
to further study of the neglected
"underside" of early American
history.
The Ohio State University Paul C. Bowers, Jr.
A Revolutionary People at War: The
Continental Army and American Char-
acter, 1775-1783. By Charles Royster. (Chapel Hill: The University of
North Carolina Press, Institute of Early
American History and Culture,
Williamsburg, Virginia, 1979. xi + 452p.;
illustrations, appendix, notes,
index. $19.50.)
This is a rewarding but difficult book
about the role of the Continental
army in shaping and perpetuating an
American national "character" dur-
ing the Revolutionary War. It is an
exercise in intellectual history firmly
grounded in the life of the army.
Royster is particularly concerned with the
conflict between ultimately
"unattainable" revolutionary ideals of virtue,
benevolence, and disinterestedness, the
realities of wartime operations and
hardships, and with the resulting
disparity which threatened the survival
of the new republic. The army, he finds,
assumed the role of saving the
revolution from failure, and thus of
perpetuating its values and ideals. In
the process, the army grew in
competence, self-esteem, and professionalism,
motivated not by money and glory but by
patriotism. The officer corps
developed a distinctively national view
of American affairs which contri-
buted to the push for consolidation and
union. Royster traces the evolution
of these attitudes and of the conduct of
the army from the first rush of
civilian and military patriotism in the
"Rage Militaire" of 1775, through
the wartime "trial of national
character," to the final disbandment of the
army in 1783.
To support his arguments, Royster has
fifty-nine pages of notes (drastical-
ly reduced from the five hundred pages
of notes in his 1977 dissertation at
Berkeley!), twenty-six portraits and
illustrations, an historical critique of
previous studies of motivations of
Continental soldiers, and a thorough
index. The book is excellently written
and edited, with no apparent typo-
graphical errors. It was produced by the
Institute of Early American His-
tory and Culture where Royster served
two years as a post-doctoral fellow
revising the manuscript.
Book Reviews
85
The book also has some difficulties.
Stylistically, Royster tends to bury
his thesis statements and
generalizations deeply within each chapter.
Although he contends that his argument
is not susceptible "to short, ab-
stract summaries," Royster could
aid his readers by being less subtle about
the direction each chapter takes.
Analytically, Royster does not justify
his use of the concept of national
"character," but simply
assumes that one was "prevalent" during the war,
and consisted of ideas, attitudes,
emotions, and conduct (p. vii). Perhaps
more seriously, he distinguishes between
the values of the army and the
civilian community as a whole, not identifying
differences among compet-
ing civilian groups: the confirmed
patriot activists, especially in the cities;
less dedicated patriots, including
pacifists; those indifferent to both war and
revolution; and (omitting outright
loyalists) those whose allegiance
changed with the movement of the
competing armies. Royster admits his
thus generalizing about all
"Americans" and "revolutionaries" is a "neces-
sary evil," but he need not
perpetuate the stereotype of the civilian com-
munity held by the army itself. Such
imprecision is a trap for the unwary
reader.
Finally, Royster makes too little
distinction between the army and mili-
tia. Again, he is thoroughly in tune with the views of
the Continental army
and at odds with other Americans. Both
institutions claimed to be the
repository of the values of the citizen
soldier, the militia by tradition, the
army by revolutionary transformation. It
is this transformation which
Royster ignores; his interest lies in
the contrast between professionalism
and voluntarism.
In all these objections, Royster might
argue that they are not the goals of
his book, but subjects for additional
work. Therein lies the final value and
potential of A Revolutionary People
at War - the generation of new analy-
sis to give us a more complete view of
the revolutionary "mind."
The Ohio State University John Kenneth Rowland
Retreat from Reconstruction,
1869-1879. By William Gillette. (Baton
Rouge:
Louisiana State University Press, 1979.
xiv + 463p.; charts, notes, bib-
liographical essay, index. $27.50.)
Reconstruction after the Civil War, as
the president and Congress con-
ceived it, was a major national
enterprise, but just as obviously, Reconstruc-
tion also took place at local levels -
several of them. Thus historians of this
subject have important decisions to
make. When they select among the
available research strategies, they may
choose, as most of William A. Dun-
ning's students long ago did and as a
number of able younger scholars now
are doing, to view the entire subject
from a southern vantage point. If so,
they will follow events within the
former Confederate states, measure the
Reconstruction governments' achievements
or failures, credit the various
social and racial elements involved, and
identify local developments contri-
buting to the fall of the Republican
regimes and leading toward "redemp-
tion." In the hands of a skilled
practitioner attuned to recent historio-
graphical trends, this venerable
approach would be more likely to focus on
86 OHIO HISTORY
social and economic history than on
political maneuver. In particular the
experience of the freedmen probably
would be emphasized.
Another approach to Reconstruction,
though one used less often than
might be profitable, would move the
historian north of the Ohio, there to
examine events within northern
statehouses and caucus rooms in order to
follow the vagaries of local northern
commitment to the Reconstruction
process. Here too, though political
maneuver might figure prominently, the
contemporary historian, aware of the
enlarged dimensions lately assumed
by political history, probably would
emphasize economic and social concerns
and, especially, the influence on public
policy of the new legal, sociological,
and philosophical concepts that gained
currency in postbellum America.
Yet a third approach - the one Gillette selects - concentrates on
Washington, though making limited forays
into the states - mostly into
state capitols - both south and north.
Thus his account is resolutely
political in the traditional sense. It
represents the details of Grant's south-
ern policies and enforcement strategies,
of state and national electoral con-
tests, and of congressional legislation.
Assessment of carpetbaggers, scala-
wags, and freedmen, analyses of social
and economic process and of the
postwar ethos - such matters not only do
not occupy the foreground, they
are difficult to find at all, except
incidentally and in the form of summary
paragraphs.
Despite what some readers may consider
for these reasons a rather
limited, conventional approach,
Gillette's book nonetheless provides a reli-
able, judicious, and - within its
parameters - full account of the Recon-
struction process as it occurred at the
national level during the 1870s. The
work is based on intensive research in a
wide range of manuscript and
newspaper sources. Futher a thoughtful
and lengthy bibliographical essay
guides the reader through the difficult
maze of recent scholarship and states
the author's views on a number of
important, controversial issues.
The 1870s, according to the author, were
"the shaping years both for
subsequent southern and national history
and for the history of American
race relations right down into the
twentieth century" (p. xii). He accepts
current scholarly opinion which holds
that the Republican architects of the
federal program during this decade had
no intention of revolutionizing the
southern society or economy, and that,
in short, Reconstruction reflected
moderate rather than radical goals. He
does not ascribe to Republican lead-
ership, to say nothing of the Republican
rank and file, racial views which
late-twentieth century Americans would
regard as being enlightened.
If some historians recently have
reassessed the early stages of Recon-
struction (1865-1869) and found therein
successes and ground for optimism,
Gillette discerns in the record of
Grant's administration little but "legisla-
tive fumbling, administrative failure,
and popular retreat" (p. xi). Grant
himself comes out very badly here, but
hardly worse than his successor.
Grant's leadership, the author
concludes, was erratic, while President
Hayes's was inflexible and negligent.
The Ohio State University Merton Dillon
Book Reviews
87
The Japanese on Trial: Allied War
Crimes Operations in the East, 1945-
1951. By Philip R. Piccigallo. (Austin: University of Texas
Press, 1979.
xv + 292p.; illustrations, notes,
epilogue, bibliography, index. $15.00.)
At the end of the war in the Pacific the
victorious allies held trials of
several thousand Japanese soldiers and
government officials accused of war
crimes. These individuals were tried
either for actions in violation of the
laws of war such as atrocities committed
against civilians and POWs, or for
a conspiracy to wage a war of
aggression. Most of those tried were found
guilty and executed or imprisoned. This
book examines the validity of the
legal terms and charges on which they
were brought to trial and the fair-
ness and quality of justice meted out to
the accused.
In general the author concludes that the
trials were fair, and that the
accused Japanese officials and soldiers
had planned a war of aggression,
first against China and then against the
other states in the Pacific, and that
atrocities had been knowingly committed
that were "either secretly ordered
or willfully permitted by the Japanese
government ... and by the leaders of
the armed forces." The author
concludes that it is doubtful whether any
better solution to the problem of how to deal with
Japanese war criminals in
1945 could have been devised. His only
reservation is that it might have
been better had the Allies charged
Japanese (and German) leaders "with
responsiblity, principally, for
commission or allowance of conventional war
crimes" and relied somewhat less on
the charge of "crimes against peace"
and "crimes against humanity."
Concerning the trial and punishment of
those accused of actually commit-
ting, ordering, or allowing atrocities,
the author notes that with but rare
exceptions - the most outstanding being
that of General Yamashita - the
courts were noteworthy in their respect
for evidence and in fairness of
procedure.
The author does not attempt to assess
whether the trials succeeded in
their objective of setting a precedent
and restraint against future crimes
against peace and violations of the laws
of war. Had he done so, he would
most certainly have had to examine the decisions of American civilian and
military leaders in their conduct of the
war in Vietnam. Quite apart from
the tortured question of responsibility
for violating the Geneva Accords of
1954, there is the question of the
legality of such operations as free fire
zones and of the atrocities committed
against civilians and against captured
VC and POWs. These and many other US
acts were violations of the laws of
war and hence of the principles on which
American officials and soldiers
ought to have been tried if the
Nuremberg and Japanese war crimes trials
were to have been upheld. Fortunately
the reader can turn to two excellent
books - The War in Vietnam by
Gunther Lewy and Nuremburg and Viet-
nam by Telford Taylor - to become better informed on this
issue. This
volume gives a meticulous and readable
account of the great precedent set
by the trial of the Japanese war criminals
and thereby provides a starting
point for our thinking.
Miami University David S.
McLellan
88 OHIO HISTORY
The Alcoholic Republic: An American
Tradition. By W. J. Rorabaugh. (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1979. xvi
+ 309p.; illustrations, appen-
dix, bibliographical notes, key, notes,
index. $14.95.)
A toast to William Rorabaugh! His lively
and stimulating volume should
both delight and challenge its readers.
Those familiar with J. C. Furnas'
The Life and Times of the Late Demon
Rum (New York, 1965) will find The
Alcoholic Republic equally entertaining and stylistic, but also more inter-
pretive. Rorabaugh's purpose is to show
that the "association of particular
patterns in the consumption of alcohol
with certain social and psychological
traits" reflected the emergence of
a "new national character" between 1790
and 1840 (p. xi). Yet it is not merely
drinking manners that fascinate
Rorabaugh; rather, how changes in the
amount and kind of drink, juxta-
posed with the theoretical literature on
consumption, can broaden our
understanding of the social and
psychological behavior of Americans of that
era (pp. xi-xii). The book succeeds at
both levels, although Rorabaugh's
conclusions are "often more
suggestive than rigorously proved" (p. xi).
After reiterating that colonials
believed drinking was healthy, Rora-
baugh details the changes in consumption
from 1790 to 1840 associated
with patriotism and egalitarianism,
cheaper grain, and food diets; suggests
why (anxiety), how (binges), and who
(practically everybody) drank more of
what; and concludes with a sweeping
interpretation of the growth and use-
fulness of the temperance movement.
While it may be slightly disconcerting
to some to learn that during the
"formative years" Americans drank about
twice as much alcohol as they do today
(a peak of nearly four gallons per
capita in 1830), most readers will be
startled to read that the "disappear-
ance of the temperance ideal has robbed
American society of some of the
grease that kept the machinery of
society running smoothly" (p. 222). The
key to abstention was industrialization; which increased the motivation to
succeed, narrowed the gap between
aspirations and achievements, and re-
duced anxiety (p. 176). In short,
temperance balanced conflicting material
and spiritual values.
Readers will have to accept most of
these views on faith, for without
comparable evidence of drinking habits
after 1840 it is difficult to grant the
temperance movement such a central place
in American life. Were similar
tensions absent during the subsequent
hundred years of relative alcoholic
drought? What happens to the
anxiety/drinking thesis if anxiety also
caused people not to drink (p. 189)?
Might not the culinary preferences that
stimulated drinking before 1840 (p. 117)
have changed significantly there-
after and contributed to the decline in
alcoholic consumption? Finally, did
non-psychological factors present before
1840 but not thereafter contribute
to the "Alcoholic Republic?"
To the latter, and to the detriment of
his anxiety thesis, Rorabaugh offers
a qualified yes. The rising price of rum
and its unpatriotic reputation (p.
67), technological improvements in
distillation, a corn surplus (p. 61), and
the growth of a national grain market
spurred in part by the greater ease of
distillation (p. 85) all contributed
significantly to heavier drinking before
1840. But even the economic argument
becomes circular when Rorabaugh
claims that it was the spirits surplus
that stimulated the industrial revolu-
tion (p. 88). If heavier drinking
stemmed from agricultural overproduction,
Book Reviews
89
it was the latter, not whiskey per se,
that freed laborers for service in the
industrial machine.
Other generalizations detract from the
book. To say that a drunken spree
enabled the drinker "to turn his
thoughts away from the failure of his own
life, to perpetuate his illusory hopes,
to dent the contradiction between his
ideals and reality" (p. 161) is
notable for its universality rather than its
particularity. And his conclusion that
"drunkenness was an act of self-
manipulation" leading to a
guilt-satisfying national hangover (p. 167) is
overstated and unsubstantiated.
Despite the vulnerability inherent in
its boldness, The Alcoholic Republic
fulfills its author's expectations. It
raises important questions about the
more circumspect underpinnings of
American materialism during the
formative years. In addition, the
carefully prepared appendices on cross-
national consumption, drinking
motivation literature, and the social char-
acteristics of drinkers are distinct
contributions. Rorabaugh's essay on the
problem of estimating consumption is a
model of its kind. Readers will be
happily transported back to that anxious
and inebriated age, their minds
exercised along the way.
Humboldt State University Stephen Fox
Sobering Up: From Temperance to
Prohibition in Antebellum America,
1800-1860. By Ian R. Tyrrell. (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1979.
xii +
350p.; notes, appendix, notes on
sources, index. $23.95.)
For half a century John A. Krout's The
Origins of Prohibition (1925) has
been the standard work on the pre-Civil
War temperance crusade. While
the book's status has been in part a
testimonial to its author's thoroughness,
its longevity has reflected even more
the neglect by other American histor-
ians of the most widely supported
early-nineteenth century reform move-
ment. In recent years, scholars have
again turned their attention to the
campaign against alcohol and now Tyrrell
has written a comprehensive
history. In contrast to Krout, he wisely
abridges the Colonial background as
to Americans' use of alcohol. On the
other hand, while Krout stopped with
the Maine Law of 1851, at which he once
hoped to begin another volume on
prohibition itself, Tyrrell summarizes
the climactic developments of the
antebellum decade. Throughout he bases
his narrative on substantial re-
search. While he might have used
newspapers more extensively, he has
tapped most of the available sources.
Appropriately, in light of his title,
Tyrrell begins with a description of a
hard-drinking country. He might,
perhaps, be more skeptical both of the
sacred statistics of the census and of
the reformers' recollections of the
extent of the alcoholic evil, but nonetheless
he shows that consumption was
great. The campaign to limit it, which
began in New England, at first was
led by the region's traditional elite.
According to Tyrrell, historians have
erred in believing that the agitation
continued to be "a conservative re-
sponse to social change" (p. 6).
Instead, he contends that in the 1820s and
1830s the leaders of the movement were
evangelical ministers optimistic
90 OHIO HISTORY
about converting the nation to
Christianity and morality and entrepreneurs
dedicated to modernization. Tyrrell
gives quantitative evidence, especially
concerning the movement in Worcester,
Massachusetts, to support his
generalizations about the kind of men
who supported temperance. Still, he
might consider whether these economic
and religious innovators might also
have been in some ways social conservatives.
For example, as the author
indicates, the reformers' contention
that government had the right for the
common good to legislate against evil
was derived from longstanding New
England tradition.
In discussing anti-liquor laws, Tyrrell
avoids Krout's misconception that
the temperance men turned to prohibition
only after they had failed to
persuade all Americans voluntarily to
abstain. Instead, he demonstrates a
continuing appeal by predominantly
middle-class temperance people for
laws to alter the drinking habits of the
lower class. He carefully describes
how both men and women participated in
well-organized efforts to induce
people to abstain and to impose
abstinence on others. To plug the loopholes
in local anti-liquor laws, they turned
to statewide prohibition. Tyrrell con-
tends that controversy over the
prohibitory Maine Law and the like was not
between country and city but between
classes. Yet might not the con-
troversy have had both aspects? A
principal argument for state prohibition
was the ineffectiveness of existing
local laws in the cities - precisely be-
cause the cities housed the largest
concentrations of anti-temperance lower
class native Americans and immigrants.
Tyrrell explains how concern over the
social impact of massive immigra-
tion and weakening loyalty to
traditional parties facilitated the political
movement to enact prohibition. His
analysis is generally sound. While still
stressing the northeast, he here gives
some attention to the Old Northwest,
including Ohio. He considers backers of
the Maine Law, with particular
attention to its author, Neal Dow, and
to the role of middle-class women. He
indicates that the law numbered among
its opponents not only immigrants
and Catholics generally, but also part
of the native-born American elector-
ate. He convincingly shows that problems
of enforcement in the face of
vigorous opposition cost prohibition
part of its following. In most states, the
Republican coalition which emerged from
the political confusion of the
1850s dropped the divisive Maine Law
issue and the temperance wave
receded. Indeed, at least according to
the bleary statistics for 1860, the
average American was then drinking more,
not "sobering up." The prohibi-
tionist victory had seemed close enough,
however, to encourage the drys to
repeat in the twentieth century their
"experiment, noble in motive." To
explain its origin, Krout wrote the book
which Tyrrell has so successfully
superceded.
Kent State University Frank L. Byrne
Paul S. Reinsch: Open Door Diplomat
in Action. By Noel H. Pugach. (Mill-
wood, New York: KTO Press, 1979. xii +
310p.; illustrations, notes, a
note on sources, index. $19.95.)
In a clearly-written, well-organized
compact book, Noel H. Pugach,
Book Reviews
91
Assistant Professor of History at the
University of Mexico, has produced a
valuable biography of Paul S. Reinsch.
In a somewhat short but useful life
Reinsch was an outstanding political
science teacher-scholar at the Uni-
versity of Wisconsin, a notable public
speaker and famed "Open Door Diplo-
mat" to China, 1913-1921. For each
aspect of his threefold career, the sub-
ject of this biography is depicted as a dedicated yet
excessively ambitious
man so eager for fame that he literally
worked himself to frequent illness
and perhaps early death.
Through his pre-China chapters, Pugach
gives his readers a delightful
picture of academic greats at the
University of Wisconsin around 1900. The
Wisconsin years of Reinsch are drawn so
aptly that one can understand the
eventual physical and emotional
background which crushed the "Open Door
Diplomat" in China.
During his China years, Reinsch is
depicted as an ambassador who
seemingly sought American expansion of
trade with the Chinese as much to
help them as to promote American
business. And while World War I was
being waged, the author carefully
notices, Reinsch constantly feared that
neglect of China by his country would
lead to a Japanese takeover.
Relatively unnoted by the author are the
American missionaries in China
during the Great War, a serious gap
indeed. For while Reinsch was writing
letters of advice and warning plus
making visits to Wilson and Bryan, so,
too, was the world famous Methodist
missionary, Bishop Bashford. And if
the ambassdor's advice and visits were
sought by the president, so, too, were
those of missionaries such as Bashford.
Indeed, the Presbyterian in the
White House had earlier vainly offered
the China assignment to the famed
missionary, John R. Mott. Surely, the
paths of these and other missionaries
must have crossed those of Reinsch more
than noted by Pugach.
The above shortcomings are not due to
any lack of knowledge on the part
of the author, whose sources of primary
and secondary works are impres-
sive. One wishes that the writer had
been allowed or had taken more pages
to gain completeness not present in this
short work.
Ohio Wesleyan University David H. Jennings
The Long Journey of Noah Webster. By Richard M. Rollins. (Philadelphia:
University of Pennsylvania Press, 1980.
xi + 195p.; notes, bibliography,
index. $16.00.)
As Richard M. Rollins maps it, Noah
Webster's journey took him from the
revolutionary enthusiasm of his youth to
the Calvinistic quietism of a dis-
illusioned old age. When Webster died in
1843 at the age of 85, he had lived
several lives, each corresponding with a
phase in the history of the nation.
During his student years at Yale, fired
by visions of liberty, he joined the
American militia; yet, with many of his
classmates of the class of 1778, he
resisted being drafted into the army not
on the grounds of opposition to
fighting, but from the conviction that
no government had the right to com-
pel military service. The financial and
administrative difficulties of the new
military republic, however, led him to
modify his praises of liberty. "Too
92 OHIO HISTORY
much health is a disease," he wrote in 1785, and "too much liberty is the
worst tyranny" (p. 45). Convinced that a constitution must replace the
weak
Articles of Confederation, he became a leading
propagandist for a stronger
central government. The French Revolution terrified him
fully as much as
it terrified Burke. Order rather than
liberty became his cry. Jefferson and
the Republicans represented a Jacobin menace to the
very existence of the
Republic. Webster considered the optimism of his youth,
his belief in the
perfectibility of human nature and the necessity for
social reform. All
change was dangerous, he concluded, and
human depravity must be held in
check by unquestioned authority.
Finally, in 1808, after many years as a
skeptic or a Deist, he experienced a
profound religious conversion which led
him to preach a Calvinist creed of entire submission to
the will of God and to
constituted authority, which Rollins
terms "Quiet Christianity."
Through all of these vicissitudes of
mind, Webster was a prolific writer
and journalist, not only the
lexicographer and schoolmaster we remember.
Rollins has mastered these voluminous
writings and he skillfully relates
Webster's ideas to their historical setting.
Unfortunately, the private Noah
Webster does not clearly emerge. The fault is not
Professor Rollins'. Few
intimate personal documents exist and
Rollins is too conscientious a scholar
to speculate or fictionalize. He does
use, rather eclectically, the theories of
Freud, Fromm, Erickson, May, and other
psychiatrists to explain Webster's
"identity crisis" of early
manhood, or his ambivalence toward authority; but
such theoretical explanations serve to
dissolve the character of the indi-
vidual into a set of general tendencies
rather than to aid the cause of vivid
portraiture. Great biography depends on
an abundance of concrete details a
la Boswell, details not available to
Rollins. Occasionally we catch a glimpse
of Webster the man: a young fellow
accompanies that formidable charmer
Ben Franklin on visits to Philadelphia
ladies; a father mourns the death of
his daughter in childbirth; a hungry
journalist seeks, but seldom finds,
steady employment. Generally, however,
we must be content with quota-
tions from and analyses of Webster's
published writings. Professor Rollins
does establish that Webster's deepest
hopes and anxieties about his own
identity, religion, and the nature of
man expressed themselves here, espe-
cially in his American Dictionary.
Contemporary dictionaries are team
projects. The new American Heritage
Dictionary, for
example, lists an editorial staff numbering over one hun-
dred, not to mention a group of
contributors, a usage panel, and a board of
consultants. Such a work is hardly the
lengthened shadow of one man.
Webster, on the other hand, worked alone
for twenty-five years, writing out
each of the more than seventy thousand
entries with his own aching hand.
(Even Samuel Johnson employed
amanuenses.) Professor Rollins shows
that the American Dictionary, far
from displaying the cool objectivity of the
scientific student of language, is to a
great extent an autobiographical
document:
The American Dictionary was the
product of an entire lifetime. As such it reflected
the events and inheritances of that
human life, and contained all the biases, con-
cerns, and ideals of an individual.
Indeed, it was an extension of his whole personality
(p. 125).
Definitions of key words show that
Webster was attempting to recom-
BOOK NOTES
Women In Kentucky. By Helen Deiss Irvin. (Lexington: The University
Press of Kentucky, 1979. 134p.;
photographs, source listing.) Another con-
tribution to the Kentucky Bicentennial
Bookshelf series, this work outlines
the history of the Kentucky women from
1775 through the 1930s. The six
chapters focus on the lives of settlers,
workers, and reformers without dot-
ing on the contributions of exceptional
Kentucky women. Based upon pub-
lished diaries, autobiographies, biographies,
and newspapers, the book is an
example of solid research presented in a
clear, concise, and quite readable
manner. Other states might do well to
emulate this fine series of publica-
tions sponsored in part by the Kentucky
Historical Events Celebration
Commission.
Frank R. Levstik
Local History Today: Papers Presented
at Four Regional Workshops for
Local Historical Organizations in
Indiana, June, 1978 - April, 1979. By
Richard Jensen, Robert M. Sutton, Thomas
D. Clark, Thomas J. Schlereth,
with an introduction by Thomas K.
Krasean. (Indianapolis: Indiana Histor-
ical Society, 1979. viii + 86p.;
illustrations, notes, appendix.) This is a
compilation of four keynote addresses
presented by Professors Richard Jen-
sen, Robert M. Sutton, Thomas D. Clark,
and Thomas J. Schlereth at a
series of workshops for local historical
organizations in Indiana. The themes
of the addresses were focused on local
history and its value in the under-
standing of state and national heritage.
While three of the addresses pre-
sent the traditional academic
historian's approach to the theme, Professor
Schlereth focuses on "aboveground
archaeology." He calls upon the reader
to recognize that the environment, both
natural and man-made, is an im-
portant historical document. Much local
history can be learned through
geological/geographic features,
landscape, vegetation, place and street
names, buildings or working places.
These papers are a useful contribution
to the literature of local history.
Frank R. Levstik
William Oliver Littick: Newspaper
Publisher Extraordinary. By Clay Lit-
tick. (Baltimore: Gateway Press, Inc.,
1979. xii + 82p.; illustrations.) This
is an informal biography of the late
manager and owner of the Zanesville
Times-Recorder. While detailing the career of a young newspaperman at
the turn of the century, William
Oliver Littick: Newspaper Publisher Ex-
traordinary seeks to record the efforts of one man to bring civic
improve-
ments and advancements to his Ohio town
through active community lead-
ership. Perhaps the most interesting
aspect of this volume is the history of
94 OHIO HISTORY
Japanese power - an "inherited
error" (p. 92), Acheson reminded Truman
- pulled inexorably on Russia until
Soviet power filled the vacuum. We are
treated again to Acheson's holism:
"What we want in the world," he wrote
in 1960, "is an environment in
which what we call western civilization can
exist and prosper."
Characteristically, Acheson understood that this order
could inhere only when the United States
has "enough force to protect our
environment and coerce those who try to
subvert it" (p. 190). Indeed, Ache-
son found power "at the root of
most relationships" and a balance of power
"the best international sheriff we
have ever had" (p. 92). And we learn
again how Acheson's thesis of
negotiation from strength, as one biographer
has it, "in practice meant no
negotiation." The Russians, Acheson opined in
1969, "do not negotiate under
pressure"; they negotiate "only when the
'correlation of forces' makes it seem to
their advantage" (p. 304). But Ache-
son never looked beyond confrontation.
He did not expect - and did not
proffer - international comity.
Relations with the Russians were a sequ-
ence of tests. Each test "is put
there so that it must be met." That is,
Acheson concluded, "the whole
purpose of this exercise" (p. 152).
The letters are arranged chronologically
and divided into four sections.
Following a brief "Foreword"
in which the editors identify their task as
"character delineation" and
not an effort to "tell a story or to 'scoop' history"
(p. vii), the reader moves from
Acheson's development as a young careerist
anxious to "get into the
center" of the law profession "before my three score
are over" (p. 1), through his
efforts in government "to persuade and cajole
people not to do foolish things"
(p. 44), and finally to his advocacy from
retirement of a surgical air strike
against Russian missiles in Cuba and
disengagement from Vietnam. The editors
offer no running commentary in
the tradition of Charles Seymour or
Walter Millis. Rather, they introduce
most letters by identifying the
"friend," explaining obscure references,
establishing the context, and, perhaps
too frequently, assaying the meaning
of these letters for Acheson's
character. But these introductions are
pleasantly brief and, for the most part,
the editors fulfill their promise to
"let Acheson speak for himself' (p.
viii).
This volume captures the range and depth
of Acheson's thought. His
sardonic wit emerges on each page. If these letters do not suggest a
revision
of Acheson - and this writer is not
convinced that they should - they do
provide a lively and self-contained
portrait of their author and speak discon-
certingly to our present international impasse.
Bowling Green State University John V. Garrett
Book Reviews
Black Detroit and the Rise of the
UAW. By August Meier and Elliott Rud-
wick. (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1979. xii + 289p.; notes,
illustrations, bibliographical essay,
index. $15.00.)
The gulf of suspicion and hostility
between the black community and
labor that derived from the AFL craft union's
systematic exclusion of blacks
and occasional black strikebreaking was
wider in Detroit than elsewhere in
the industrial north in the 1930s. In
Detroit Henry Ford had furthered the
gulf by his unique policy of hiring
large numbers of blacks at all levels in
his Dearborn plant and by cultivating a
close relationship with leading
black ministers and politicians, several of whom served
as Ford employ-
ment agents. With the emergence of the
UAW in 1936 as an industrial
union determined to organize all
industrial workers and a leftwing lead-
ership committed to racial equality, a
black and labor alliance gradually
developed in Detroit. The transformation
of Detroit blacks from pro-
industry to pro-union was both dramatic
and ironic because the turning
point occurred during the Ford strike of
1941. The mutual support of Detroit
blacks and the UAW during the Ford
strike developed into a fast alliance on
behalf of black advancement and
integration during World War II. August
Meier and Elliott Rudwick have
thoroughly researched the archives of
black organizations, the UAW, and
federal agencies and have made exten-
sive use of the Negro press and oral
histories to construct a fresh and
engrossing story of this transformation
of black and labor relations.
In several respects, Meier and Rudwick
propose revisions of the tradition-
al understanding of black and labor
relations in the auto industry. For
instance, the authors show that NAACP
Secretary Walter White's memoirs
portray the relations between the NAACP
and the UAW at the time of the
1941 Ford strike as more amicable and
trusting than was actually the case.
Meier and Rudwick also show that in
spite of the UAW's strong rhetorical
commitment to racial equality, the
union's actual progress in integrating
the workplace, securing equality clauses
in collective bargaining agree-
ments, and electing blacks to union
office was highly uneven and generally
disappointing. Several of Meier and
Rudwick's other interpretations are
less enlightening than these.
Meier and Rudwick dispute the view that
Henry Ford hired large num-
bers of black workers to divide the
workforce and discourage unionism.
Rather, the authors suggest, Ford's
policy toward blacks stemmed from "a
genuine philanthropic impulse."
Though it was quite true, as the authors
point out, that Ford's benevolence
extended to other disadvantaged groups
besides blacks and extended beyond his
employment policy to support for
the research of George Washington Carver
and to underwritng the rehabil-
itation of the black community of
Inkster, the element of self-interest in
Ford's benevolence was greater than
Meier and Rudwick admit. Ford be-
friended ex-convicts who manned the
fearsome Service Department. He
befriended unemployed youths whom he
hired to replace men working at
higher wages. Ford befriended the black
community, and in return he got a