Inligting

Ida Rauh


Ida Rauh is gebore in 'n welvarende gesin in New York. Rauh, 'n sosialis en voorstander van stemreg vir vroue, het advokaat geword. Haar vriendin, Crystal Eastman, het haar in 1907 aan Max Eastman voorgestel. Volgens William L. O'Neill: "Ida Rauh, 'n pragtige en intelligente Joodse vrou met 'n privaat inkomste, wat Max Eastman geken het sedert sy eerste keer na New York gekom het. Sy was in opstand teen haar burgerlike familie en het die klasstryd so duidelik aan hom verduidelik dat hy 'n sosialis geword het. " Eastman, 'n talentvolle joernalis, is ook oorreed om by die Men's League for Women's Suffrage aan te sluit.

Rauh het betrokke geraak by die Hull House -projek in Chicago. Sy ontmoet ander vroue wat belangstel in vakbondwese. Dit sluit Jane Addams, Mary McDowell, Alice Hamilton, Florence Kelley en Sophonisba Breckinridge in. Saam het die groep die Women's Union Union League gestig. Die hoofdoel van die organisasie was om vroue op te voed oor die voordele van vakbondlidmaatskap. Dit ondersteun ook vroue se eise vir beter werksomstandighede en het gehelp om bewustheid te verhoog oor die uitbuiting van vroulike werkers.

Die Women's Trade Union League het steun van die American Federation of Labour ontvang en vroue aangetrokke tot vroue se stemreg sowel as industriële werkers wat hul salaris en voorwaardes wil verbeter. Vroeë lede was Jane Addams, Lillian Wald, Margaret Robins, Leonora O'Reilly, Mary McDowell, Margaret Haley, Helen Marot, Mary Ritter Beard, Rose Schneiderman, Alice Hamilton, Agnes Nestor, Eleanor Roosevelt, Florence Kelley en Sophonisba Breckinridge.

Rauh trou op 4 Mei 1911 met Max Eastman in Patterson, New Jersey. Hy het later onthou dat hy die volgende oggend wakker geword het met angs: "Ek het my troue lewensvreugde verloor met Ida." Die skrywer van Die Laaste Romantikus (1978), het aangevoer: "In teenstelling met sy liefdevolle moeder en suster, was Ida nooit die een wat mense, selfs haar man, met komplimente en aandag sou oorlaai nie. Tog was dit noodsaaklik vir Max se welstand. kon dus nie vitaliteit in Max se slap senuwees gooi nie, soos hy noodsaaklik geag het. "

Ida Rauh het op 6 September 1912 'n seun, Daniel, geboorte gegee. Stemme vir vroue, met Jane Addams en Anna Howard Shaw in die hoofrolle. Hulle het ook albei lede van die Socialist Party of America geword.

Max Eastman het 'n reputasie ontwikkel as 'n uitstaande joernalis en is in 1912 genooi om redakteur van die linkse tydskrif te word, Die Massas. Georganiseer soos 'n koöperasie, kunstenaars en skrywers wat bygedra het tot die tydskrif, het in die bestuur daarvan gedeel. Ander radikale skrywers en kunstenaars wat by die span aangesluit het, was Floyd Dell, John Reed, William Walling, Crystal Eastman, Sherwood Anderson, Carl Sandburg, Upton Sinclair, Arturo Giovannitti, Michael Gold, Amy Lowell, Louise Bryant, John Sloan, Art Young, Boardman Robinson, Robert Minor, KR Chamberlain, Stuart Davis, Lydia Gibson, George Bellows en Maurice Becker.

In sy eerste hoofartikel voer Eastman aan: "Hierdie tydskrif word besit en gepubliseer deur sy redaksie. Dit het geen dividende om te betaal nie, en niemand probeer geld daaruit verdien nie. 'N Revolusionêr en nie 'n hervormingstydskrif nie: 'n tydskrif met 'n sin vir humor en geen respek vir die agbare nie: openhartig, arrogant, onbeskaamd, op soek na ware oorsake: 'n tydskrif wat gerig is op rigiditeit en dogma, waar dit ook al gevind word: druk wat te naak of waar is vir 'n geldmaakpers: 'n tydskrif wie se finale beleid is om te doen wat hy wil en niemand te versoen nie, selfs nie sy lesers nie. "

'N Groep linkse aktiviste, waaronder Ida Rauh, Floyd Dell, John Reed, George Jig Cook, Mary Heaton Vorse, Michael Gold, Susan Glaspell, Hutchins Hapgood, Harry Kemp, Max Eastman, Theodore Dreiser, William Zorach, Neith Boyce en Louise Bryant, wat in Greenwich Village gewoon het, het gereeld hul somers deurgebring in Provincetown, 'n klein hawe in Massachusetts. In 1915 stig verskeie lede van die groep die Provincetown Theatre Group. 'N Hut aan die einde van die visserswerf is in 'n teater verander. Later het ander skrywers soos Eugene O'Neill en Edna St. Vincent Millay by die groep aangesluit.

Die opvoering, Onderdrukte begeertes, wat George Jig Cook saam met sy vrou Susan Glaspell geskryf het, was een van die eerste toneelstukke wat die groep opgevoer het. Hy skryf ook die anti-oorlog toneelstuk, Die Atheense vroue tydens die Eerste Wêreldoorlog. 'N Ander lid van die groep, Louise Bryant, het geskryf: "Dit was 'n vreemde jaar. Nog nooit is soveel mense in Amerika wat geskryf of geskilder of opgetree het, ooit op een plek saamgegooi nie." Gedurende hierdie tydperk vervaardig die groep ook Constancy (1915) deur Neith Boyce en Enemies (1916) deur Hutchins Hapgood.

Ida Rauh verskyn in verskeie van hierdie produksies. Linda Ben-Zvi het aangevoer: "Die persoon wat die meeste gloeiende resensies ontvang het, was Ida Rauh, wat ontwikkel het tot die beste akteur wat die Provincetown Players gemaak het. Sy het in die eerste twee seisoene in dertien produksies verskyn, en in druk word daarna verwys as die Duse van MacDougalstraat of 'n Amerikaanse Bernhardt. In die lewe het sy 'n soortgelyke krag en sensualiteit getoon. "

In 1916 verlaat Ida Max Eastman. Kort daarna begin sy 'n verhouding met George Jig Cook. Dit het in Maart 1918 tot 'n einde gekom. Hutchins Hapgood het geskryf. "Jig en Ida breek, word gesê. Jig is jaloers op kennisgewings van Ida in die koerante - so sê hulle."

© John Simkin, Mei 2013

Ida Rauh, byvoorbeeld, wat 'n toonaangewende akteur by die Provincetown Players sou word, was ook 'n prokureur wat by Crystal Eastman aan NYU studeer het; 'n advokaat vir geboortebeperking, gearresteer vir die verspreiding van pamflette op Union Square saam met Margaret Sanger; 'n sosialis, wat haar toekomstige man, Max Eastman, aan Marx en Engel se geskrifte voorgestel het en die rigting beïnvloed het wat hy as redakteur van Die Massas; 'n bekwame beeldhouer wat saam met Jo Davidson gewerk het; asook 'n skilder en 'n digter. Ander Heterodiete was ewe talentvol en uiteenlopend.

Ida Rauh, 'n pragtige en intelligente Joodse vrou met 'n privaat inkomste, wat Max Eastman geken het sedert sy eerste keer na New York gekom het. Sy was in opstand teen haar burgerlike familie en het die klasstryd so duidelik aan hom verduidelik dat hy 'n sosialis geword het. Sy was blootgestel aan periodes van traagheid en kon dus nie vitaliteit in Max se slap senuwees gooi nie, soos wat hy noodsaaklik geag het.

Die persoon wat die meeste gloeiende resensies ontvang het, was Ida Rauh, wat ontwikkel het tot die beste akteur wat die Provincetown Players opgelewer het. In die lewe toon sy 'n soortgelyke krag en sensualiteit. Mabel Dodge het haar beskryf as 'edel lyk, soos 'n leeuwyfie.') Vir haar man, Max Eastman, was sy pragtig en geheimsinnig toe hy haar die eerste keer ontmoet - en vasbyt en afhanklik toe hy haar vir 'n veel jonger vrou wou verlaat 1916. Dodge vertel 'n ander verhaal, en beskryf Ida se vreugde by die gedagte om uiteindelik vry te wees om die lewe sonder Max aan te durf. Deel van hierdie post-Max-lewe was Jig. Dit is nie duidelik toe hul verhouding begin het nie; maar teen Maart 1918 was dit algemene skinder onder die spelers. Jig is jaloers op die kennisgewings van Ida in die koerante - so hulle sê, 'het Hutch aan Neith uit New York geskryf, met verwysing na The Athenian Women, waarin sy laaste oorname van die leidende manlike rol hom negatiewe resensies gegee het in teenstelling met haar lof.

© John Simkin, April 2013


Ses vroue, onder wie Mary Dreier, Ida Rauh, Helen Marot, Rena Borky, Yetta Raff en Mary Effers, het arm aan arm gekoppel tydens hul optog na die stadsaal tydens die staking van die hemp om die beëindiging van die misbruik deur die polisie te eis. Ander stakers met hempsmiddels volg agter die dra

Titel: Ses vroue, onder wie Mary Dreier, Ida Rauh, Helen Marot, Rena Borky, Yetta Raff en Mary Effers, het arm aan arm gekoppel tydens hul optog na die stadsaal tydens die hempstaking om te eis dat die misbruik deur die polisie beëindig word. Ander stakers met hempsmiddels volg agter 'n vakbondjie op, 3 Desember 1909, 1909.

Datum: 12-03-1909

Fotograaf: Onbekend

Foto ID: 5780PB32F27B

Versameling: Internasionale foto's vir damesklere (1885-1985)

Bewaarplek: Die Kheel Sentrum vir Arbeidsbestuur Dokumentasie en Argiewe in die ILR School aan die Cornell Universiteit is die Catherwood Library-eenheid wat spesiale versamelings versamel, bewaar en toeganklik maak wat die geskiedenis van die werkplek en arbeidsverhoudinge dokumenteer. www.ilr.cornell.edu/library/kheel

Notas: Individuele identiteite en verskaf in rekords vir 5780 P N45 #1189. Geen bykomende inligting beskikbaar nie.

Kopiereg: Daar is geen Amerikaanse kopieregbeperkings op hierdie prent nie. Die digitale lêer is die eiendom van die Kheel Center, wat dit gratis beskikbaar stel met die versoek dat die sentrum, indien moontlik, as die bron daarvan erken word.

Tags: Kheel Sentrum vir Arbeidsbestuur Dokumentasie en Argiewe, Cornell Universiteitsbiblioteek, Stakings, Vroue, Shirtwaist Makers, Banners, Int'l Ladies Garment Workers Union (1885-1985), optogte


Wat Rauh familie rekords sal jy vind?

Daar is 5 000 sensusrekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Soos 'n venster in hul daaglikse lewe, kan die Rauh-sensusrekords u vertel waar en hoe u voorouers gewerk het, hul opvoedingsvlak, veteraanstatus en meer.

Daar is 2 000 immigrasierekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Passasierslyste is u kaartjie om te weet wanneer u voorouers in die VSA aangekom het, en hoe hulle die reis onderneem het - van die skeepsnaam tot die hawens van aankoms en vertrek.

Daar is 5000 militêre rekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Vir die veterane onder u Rauh -voorouers, bied militêre versamelings insigte oor waar en wanneer hulle gedien het, en selfs fisiese beskrywings.

Daar is 5 000 sensusrekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Soos 'n venster in hul daaglikse lewe, kan die Rauh-sensusrekords u vertel waar en hoe u voorouers gewerk het, hul opvoedingsvlak, veteraanstatus en meer.

Daar is 2 000 immigrasierekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Passasierslyste is u kaartjie om te weet wanneer u voorouers in die VSA aangekom het, en hoe hulle die reis onderneem het - van die skeepsnaam tot die hawens van aankoms en vertrek.

Daar is 5000 militêre rekords beskikbaar vir die van Rauh. Vir die veterane onder u Rauh -voorouers, bied militêre versamelings insigte oor waar en wanneer hulle gedien het, en selfs fisiese beskrywings.


Geskiedenis van IDA

In 2013 het die American Probation and Parole Association (APPA), met die ondersteuning van die National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA), die aanvanklike bekragtiging van die Impaired Driving Assessment (IDA) voltooi met 'n normatiewe steekproef van 948 oortreders wat tot proeftydperk gevonnis is bestuur terwyl 'n verswakte (DWI) oortreding plaasvind. Die IDA is 'n differensiële siftingsinstrument wat bestaan ​​uit 45 items oor twee komponente wat ontwerp is om die risiko vir toekomstige bestuur te verminder, voorlopige riglyne vir diensbehoeftes te gee, die vlak van reaksie op toesig en dienste te bepaal, en om vas te stel in watter mate verkeersveiligheid is in gevaar gestel onder individue wat skuldig bevind is aan 'n DWI -oortreding.

Die IDA het agt terreine wat 'n handjievol belangrike areas van herhaling van bestuur met 'n beperkte beoordeling beoordeel: vorige betrokkenheid by die regstelsel wat verband hou met bestuur, sowel as algemene betrokkenheid by alkohol en/of ander dwelms, geestesgesondheid en gemoedsaanpassingsprobleme en weerstand teen of nie-nakoming van ingrype van die regstelsel.

Benewens die IDA self, het APPA 'n opleidingskurrikulum ontwikkel wat gebruikers die kennis, vaardighede en hulpbronne bied wat nodig is om die IDA te bestuur en te gebruik vir kliënte met 'n beperkte bestuur. APPA bied tans groepsopleidingsessies aan wat óf ter plaatse in die onderskeie jurisdiksies óf by sy opleidingsinstellings gehou kan word.

APPA en NHTSA gaan voort met hul jarelange vennootskap deur die ontwikkeling van 'n aanlyn opleidingskursus en 'n gerekenariseerde weergawe van die instrument om 'n meer wydverspreide gebruik van die IDA deur howe en gemeenskaps toesighoudende agentskappe te bevorder. Tot op hede is meer as 500 individue in 17 state opgelei in die gebruik van die IDA vir kliënte met 'n beperkte bestuur. As gevolg van die sukses van die IDA -instrument, het die James en Laura Arnold -stigting ook APPA -finansiering verskaf om die IDA -instrument aan te pas vir gebruik in voorverhoorinstellings.


Seks en kommunisme

Max Eastman: A Life, deur Christoph Irmscher, Yale University Press, 434 bladsye, $ 40

Yale University Press

"Dit verlaag nie die doelwitte van hierdie biografie of die ambisies van die onderwerp nie," skryf Christoph Irmscher, "om die volgende te beskryf as 'n verhaal wat grootliks handel oor seks en kommunisme." Hierna volg die lewe van Max Eastman-digter, nudis, vrouesuffragis, oorlogsweerder, sosialistiese redakteur en uiteindelik 'n selfbeskrywe 'libertariese konserwatief'. William F. Buckley Jr. vind sy ateïsme onsmaaklik. Maar vir 'n tiener Carly Simon was Eastman - teen daardie tyd in die 80's - 'die mooiste man wat sy ooit ontmoet het'. Sy was ver van die enigste vrou wat so gevoel het.

Eastman se ster brand vir meer as die helfte van die 20ste eeu helder, terwyl hy sy weg na roem skryf, die wêreld deurreis, vertaal Trotsky se Geskiedenis van die Russiese rewolusie, en eindig as een van die vernaamste afvalliges van die rooi geloof.

Watter agtergrond produseer 'n karakter soos Max Eastman? Een wat begin met ouers wat albei Christenbedienaars was. Max is in 1883 in Canandaigua, New York, gebore. Sy ma, Annis, is in 1889 georden, maar het al jare lank haar man, ds Samuel Eastman, bygestaan ​​met sy preke. Annis was emosioneel na aan haar kinders, en hulle was na aan mekaar. In die geval van Max en sy suster Crystal, twee jaar ouer as hy, was hulle moontlik te na aan mekaar. Crystal sou die adolessente Max se ideale vrou wees, en haar briewe aan hom van die universiteit af is vol flirterige terg.

"Max se vorige biograaf het voorgestel dat Max en Crystal 'n bloedskande -verhouding gehad het," sê Irmscher. Hy spring nie self tot die gevolgtrekking nie en sê dat die mengsel van godsdienstige passie, moederlike geduld en liefde tussen broers en susters wat rondom Eastman gewikkel is, maklike interpretasie weerstaan. Dit lyk in elk geval dat Eastman nie veel spesifiek seksuele selfvertroue of ervaring gehad het nadat hy aan die Williams College gegradueer het nie.

Sy eerste stap om 'n openbare intellektueel te word, is gepas genoeg moontlik gemaak deur een van sy susters se kêrels, wat toevallig onderrig gegee het aan die Universiteit van Columbia. Hy kry Max 'n pos as onderwysassistent in die filosofie- en sielkunde -afdeling, waar Max in die baan van John Dewey val. Crystal het haar broer ook in die progressiewe politiek aangetrek, en hy was binnekort 'n toonaangewende spreker in die Men's League for Women's Suffrage.

Die Columbia -verbinding - Eastman is soms verkeerdelik in die pers geïdentifiseer as 'n professor - en sy sukses as spreker vergemaklik sy weg om ook 'n bekende skrywer te word, en nie net op stemreg nie. Hy het ook as digter gepubliseer. En in 1913 het hy die redaksie van 'n klein sosialistiese tydskrif aangebied, Die Massas, wat onder Max sou word, soos Irmscher dit stel, "die enigste kunstige sosialistiese tydskrif wat die Verenigde State ooit gehad het." Max se plan was "om te maak Die Massas 'n gewilde sosialistiese tydskrif - 'n tydskrif met foto's en lewendige skryfwerk "eerder as 'n manier om dogma te gebruik.

Die tydskrif het van Max 'n uitgesproke kampioen van linkse oorsake gemaak, insluitend arbeid en, met die grootste nood, die opposisie teen die Eerste Wêreldoorlog. Die Massas te sluit. In die plek daarvan het Max en Crystal 'n nuwe tydskrif, die Bevryder. Namate die konflik tot 'n einde gekom het, onderskryf dit die oorlogsdoelwitte "uiteengesit deur die Russiese volk en uiteengesit deur president Wilson." Max en verskeie voormalige kollegas van Die Massas is tereggestel omdat hulle probeer het om "onwettig en opsetlik die werwings- en aanstellingsdiens van die Verenigde State te belemmer." Twee hangende jurie het Max uit 'n tronkstraf gered.

Max se liefdeslewe was op hierdie punt 'n kontras met die intense familiale emosionele betrokkenheid van sy jeug. Hy het in 1911 met die feministiese aktivis en digter Ida Rauh getrou en 'n seun by haar gehad. Maar hy het albei verwaarloos. Eers het hy nie eers vir sy ouers of Crystal gesê dat hy getroud is nie. Ida het na hul kind omgesien by die huis wat hulle in die klein dorpie Glenora, New York, besit het, terwyl Max in New York gewerk het terwyl hy nie op reis was en lesings aangebied het nie. Hy het belang gestel in ander vroue wat die egpaar beveg het, uiteindelik het hy haar verlaat en beweer dat hy haar nooit liefgehad het nie. Hy het betrokke geraak by 'n jong sterretjie-sterretjie, Florence Deshon, wat op daardie stadium meer seksueel onbelemmer was as wat Max was. Ook hierdie verhouding was gedoem, en sy ook. Max het die fout gemaak om haar voor te stel aan Charlie Chaplin, wat sy mededinger geword het oor haar liefde. Namate Florence se loopbaan agteruitgegaan het, het haar gemoedstoestand ook toegeneem. In 1922, 'n bietjie meer as vyf jaar nadat sy Max ontmoet het, sterf sy in waarskynlik 'n selfmoord.

Max ontsteld oor haar dood, verhuis Max na Italië, waar hy 'n internasionale vredeskonferensie dek, en dan na die Sowjetunie, waar hy self die vrugte van die Bolsjewistiese revolusie sou sien. Sy sosialistiese geloofsbriewe het hom verwelkom in die USSR, maar in Italië het hy 'n ander geloofsbrief verwerf: romanse met Eliena Krylenko, 'n sekretaris van die Sowjet -minister van buitelandse sake en die suster van die hoofrevolusionêre aanklaer van Moskou (hoewel Eliena self nie 'n Kommunistiese Party was nie lid). Sy sou Max se tweede vrou word.

Eastman se ervarings in die USSR het tot ontnugtering gelei. Gewone Russe wat hy teëgekom het, beskryf hulself nie noodwendig as hulle vry was om te praat as beter daaraan toe as onder die tsaar nie. Die dood van Lenin dui op 'n verlies aan idealisme nog voordat Stalin tot die oppergesag gekom het. Max het na Leon Trotsky gegaan en was suksesvol genoeg dat Trotsky hom toevertrou het om sy biografie te skryf en sy monumentale vertaling te vertaal Geskiedenis van die Russiese rewolusie. Maar Max kon Trotsky se Marxistiese dogma nie aanvaar nie.

Daar sou ook 'n kragtige persoonlike dimensie wees aan Max se ontnugtering van die Sowjet -kommunisme: Eliena se broer het nie net skouproewe uitgevoer nie, maar was uiteindelik die slagoffer van een. Sy het ook agterdog geraak omdat sy saam met Max uit die land gevlug het. Uitgang het haar lewe gered: 'Onder Stalin se bewind', skryf Irmscher, 'het die hele gesin van Eliena, waaronder haar susters Olga Drauden, Vera Krylenko en Sophia Meyer, saam met hul kinders, en haar ander broer, die mynbouingenieur Vladimir Krylenko, verdwyn. "

Die Amerikaanse linkses het Max se breuk met die kommunisme nie verwelkom nie, en sy radikale bona fides was ook in ander opsigte in twyfel. As digter het Max uitdagende onderwerpe aangepak-insluitend die Bybelse verhaal van Sodom, wat hy herinterpreteer het om die regverdige man Lot as 'n vroulike teokraat voor te stel-maar sy styl word as outyds beskou. Hy vind joernalistieke afsetpunte vir hom, insluitend die Bevryder, wat onder kommunistiese beheer gekom het. Tog was Max 'n kenner van Sowjet -Rusland en 'n gevestigde skrywer en dosent, weliswaar wie se mark nie meer was soos dit was nie. Hy voel ideologies verplaas, en hy voel soos 'n mislukking.

Maar nuwe geleenthede sou ontstaan, beide in die ontluikende anti-kommunistiese beweging en deur nuwe media-in hierdie geval radio. Max het die gasheer geword van 'n vertoning genaamd Woordspeletjie op CBS, en sy skryfwerk het 'n steunpilaar geword van Reader's Digest, wie se antikommunistiese eienaar Max goed betaal het, selfs terwyl hy sy prosa afskakel.

Sy ideologiese odyssee het hom vriende gekos, en die nuwes wat hy onder bondgenote aan die regterkant gemaak het, het nie altyd bestaan ​​nie. Hy verskyn op die masker van Nasionale hersiening van sy eerste uitgawe in 1955 tot 1964, toe hy die tydskrif se godsdienstige omskrywing van die stryd teen kommunisme te veel vind, en redakteur William Buckley vind Max se ateïsme te onversetlik. Max het sy geloof afgedank toe hy die universiteit verlaat het. Hy pas nie in by die eerder Katolieke intellektuele atmosfeer van Nasionale hersiening. Maar hy het ook nêrens anders 'n voor die hand liggende ideologiese tuiste gehad nie. Hy het homself 'n 'libertariese konserwatief' genoem. Hy wou nie 'n denkrigting vestig nie - verduidelik hom maar bondig.

Daar is meer aan Max Eastman se verhaal. Hy pas verstand by Freud-wat hy in Europa ontmoet het en 'n rukkie daarna met hom reageer-en pas spiere by Ernest Hemingway, wat persoonlik aanstoot geneem het tydens 'n kritieke resensie wat Eastman geskryf het. (Hulle het in die vooraanstaande boekredakteur Maxwell Perkins se kantoor baklei.) Hy het meer geliefdes geneem, terwyl Eliena Max se gesukkel geduld het uit onwrikbare toewyding aan hom. Hy trou 'n derde keer, met Yvette Szekely, na die dood van sy tweede vrou. En op 3 Augustus 1969 sterf Max. Sy enigste seun, Daniel, die kind wat hy by Ida gehad het, het ses maande later gevolg, sonder versoening met sy pa.

Dit alles word goed vertel deur Irmscher, 'n professor in Engels aan die Indiana -universiteit, wat in Max Eastman: 'n Lewe 'n deeglike wetenskaplike biografie. Dit sal nie na elke leser se smaak wees nie - die fokus is op Eastman self, en vir al die seks en kommunisme wat die verhaal lewendig maak, was Eastman se lewe minder interessant as sy tyd. Hy het nie daarin geslaag om die merk te maak waarna hy strewe nie, hetsy as digter of as denker. Tog bly Max Eastman 'n figuur wat die moeite werd is om te weet, een van die vele pelgrims van die vorige eeu van links na 'n soort libertarianisme.


The Love Affairs of an American Radical

In die winter van 1918 skryf die radikale skrywer en redakteur Max Eastman aan sy binnekort eks-vrou, Ida Rauh:

Ek het altyd gedink dat die ywer waarmee jy die bloed van opoffering en toewyding kan drink en steeds ontevrede kan wees, werklik verskriklik is ... Jou opvatting van wat vir jou gegee moet word, lyk kolossaal en afskuwelik, en jy staan ​​in my oë op as 'n onwrikbare. monster van selfsug.

Max wou sy vryheid hê om sy eie ding te doen, die volheid van die lewe te ervaar en sy hart in die arms van die verruklike jong Florence Deshon te volg. As Ida werklik lief was vir hom, sou sy hom vrymaak. In plaas daarvan het sy probeer om sy reputasie te vernietig, maar ook, amper so onverskoonbaar, probeer om hom terug te keer na die huislike lewe saam met haar.

Eastman bevat in sy harde brief aan Rauh 'n baie sagter brief wat hy aan hul vyfjarige seun, Daniel, geskryf het. Hy vra Rauh om dit aan Daniel te gee, verduidelik aan haar wat dit sê en stel haar voor hoe om dit aan die seuntjie te raam sodat dit saggies beland. 'Ek sê vir hom dat, alhoewel ek hom liefhet en altyd aan hom dink, ek hom heeltemal aan u oorgelaat het, want ek het u onmiddelik seergemaak, en die enigste ding wat ek het wat ek u kan vergoed, is my volledige afwesigheid uit jou lewe en uit jou liefde vir hom. ” Die daad self is monsteragtig selfsugtig. Eastman sou sy seun nog 12 jaar nie sien nie en sou nooit 'n groot rol speel in Daniel se hartseer lewe nie, wat geëindig het in alkoholisme en moontlik selfmoord. Opvallender is die gebrek aan selfbewustheid. Eastman borg nie net nie, hy oortuig homself dat hy vir sy seun se beswil borg. Hy gee dit aan sy eksvrou as 'n toegewing vir haar.

Eastman skryf in die tweede deel van sy outobiografie, byna 50 jaar later, en gee selfs 'n doktersbrief daarvoor:

Ida, na ons afskeid, het in so 'n toestand geraak dat ons dokter, dr. Herman Lorber, my aangeraai het om nie 'ten minste 'n paar jaar na haar of die baba te gaan kyk nie.' Die gerugte van haar vyandigheid en sy tweesydige verergering in sommige briewe wat ons uitgeruil het, het my so vervreem dat ek, hoewel ek golwe van hartseer gevoel het oor die baba, wat aantreklik mooi was, nie spyt was om die advies van die dokter in te neem nie.

Dit is nie skaars dat selfopname mans en vroue met visioene van hul eie grootheid hul kinders laat vaar, verwaarloos en andersins beskadig nie, en Eastman besig was. Op die ouderdom van 30, in 1913, word hy aangewys as redakteur van Die Massas, een van die belangrikste publikasies van die vroeë twintigste -eeuse Amerikaanse links. Hy het die tydskrif getransformeer, sowel die radikalisering van die sosialistiese politiek as 'n gevoel van literêre en artistieke elan. Gedurende die volgende dekade of so is hy na Rusland om eerstehands die nuwe bolsjewistiese orde te aanskou, vinnig bevriend geraak met die leiers van die Sowjetunie, 'n meesterlike vertaling van Trotsky se epos gemaak Geskiedenis van die Russiese rewolusie, en betowerde skares Amerikaners met lesings teen oorlog en oor 'n dosyn ander onderwerpe waaroor dit lyk asof hy moeiteloos vlot en boeiend was.

Daar is 'n uitstekende saak dat ons Eastman moet onthou vir hierdie prestasies en ander, eerder as vir die disfunksie van sy persoonlike lewe. Hy was 'n paar dekades lank 'n belangrike en in die meeste gevalle heilige figuur aan die linkerkant van die Amerikaanse, en daarna nog 'n relatief goedaardige figuur in die middel en regs. Hy het wonderlike opstelle en 'n paar goeie boeke geskryf. Hy het opregte politieke en morele moed getoon as 'n suffragis, anti-oorlogsaktivis en anti-Stalinis. Selfs sy werklik verstommende mate van losbandigheid het sy verlossende aspekte. Hy was openlik oor seks en plesier in 'n tyd toe sulke openheid skaars en waardevol was. Vir diegene aan die linkerkant van vandag, wat ná baie dekades weer aan die kant kom, lyk sy biografie uitsonderlik: 'n lewe wat met groot historiese gebeure gekruis het en 'n massapubliek beïnvloed het.

Christoph Irmscher Max Eastman: 'n Lewe maak hierdie saak nie. Irmscher, professor in Engels aan die Universiteit van Indiana, ken duidelik die politiek en geskiedenis wat Eastman geleef en beïnvloed het, hoewel dit nie sy fokus is nie. Eastman, gebore in 1883, in die staat New York, is grootgemaak deur twee polities progressiewe, teologies heterodoks protestantse predikante. Sy vader Samuel was verreweg die geringste van die twee, sy lig skemer teen die vurige son wat Annis Eastman was, 'n feminis en een van die eerste vroue wat in die Congregationalist Church georden is. Annis het haar drie kinders, veral Max, toegewy en van hulle groot dinge verwag. Sy het ook die soort huislike omgewing gekweek wat die dek gestapel het ten gunste van die vervaardiging van wonderlike, of ten minste ingewikkelde en fassinerende mense. Die Eastman -huishouding was 'n borrelende ketel van emosionele vereniging, intellektuele en seksuele sublimasie, feminisme, progressivisme, godsdienstige intensiteit en interessante mense wat kom en gaan.

Eastman het in hierdie ruimte floreer en gely. Hy het vroegtydig 'n gevoel van homself ingesluit as bestem vir grootheid, en 'n hewige belangstelling in die wêreld in al sy intellektuele, geestelike en fisiese manifestasies. Hy is ook geteister deur angs, selfvertroue en werklike en psigosomatiese kwale. Teen die tyd dat hy in 1907 in Greenwich Village aankom, nadat hy aan die Williams College gestudeer het, het hy hom van die meeste uiterlike uitdrukkings van sy swakhede gesuiwer en 'n charismatiese, romantiese figuur byna onmiddellik in die kulturele en politieke milieu gesny. staan ​​bekend as die 'liriese linkerkant'.

Die lys dinge wat Eastman gedoen het wat van ongeveer 1910 tot 1940 aan die linkerkant saak gemaak het, is verbysterend. Hy publiseer John Reed oor die Bolsjewistiese rewolusie en Randolph Bourne teen die oorlog. Hy het Lenin se laaste testament uit Rusland gesmokkel en Trotsky in Engels vertaal. Hy het teen die Amerikaanse regering gestaan ​​en gewen toe hulle hom in die gevangenis probeer sit het omdat hy oproerigheid versprei het Die Massas. Hy was een van die vroegste Amerikaanse Trotskyiste, en dan een van die belangrikste skeptici en verwerpers van Trotskyisme. Hy was ook, in alles wat hy gedoen het, 'n belangrike simbool vir baie van 'n sekere manier van wees en optree.

'Hy het toe voor ons gekom as die helderharige apostel van die nuwe poësie', het 'n bewonderaar geskryf, 'die ridder wat afkom van 'n nuwe en rebelse geslag, die man wat sy drome verwesenlik het-as digter, as denker, soos redakteur, as onderwyser, as sielkundige, as filosoof, as 'n ja-sêer van die vreugde en avontuur om in die volste en rykste sin van die woord te lewe ... Die lewe bars in al sy glans rondom hom. Vir hom was bestaan ​​'n geveg, 'n lied, 'n rewolusie, 'n gedig, 'n bevestiging. "

Nadat hy met die sosialistiese linkerkant gebreek het, het Eastman nie opgehou om mooi of charismaties te wees nie, maar die maklike belyning tussen sy persona en sy politiek het gebreek. Hy het begin skryf vir Reader's Digest, miskien die minste revolusionêre van Amerikaanse publikasies. Hy verwoord 'n meer konserwatiewe politiek ter verdediging van die on-romantiese deugde van die liberale demokrasie teen die revolusionêre aansprake van sosialisme. Hy het 'n versigtige verdediger van Joseph McCarthy geword en 'n plaag van linkse en liberale intellektuele wat volgens hom verkeerd was oor kommunisme en die Sowjetunie. 'Ek hou nie van McCarthy nie, en ek dink hy is 'n ham, en hy is onkundig en onbeskof,' het Eastman in 1954 aan 'n vriend geskryf, 'maar my beswaar teen hom is dat hy 'n slegte taak doen. klaar, en dit onderskei my van die meeste mense wat ek noemenswaardige liberale noem, wat blykbaar nog minder begrip het as wat McCarthy het oor die gevaar vir die beskawing in hierdie totalitêre oomblik. ”

Irmscher beskryf in sy boek die relevante ontmoetings, oomblikke, geskrifte en verhoudings akkuraat. Hy kry die boog, van mamma se seun tot neurasteniese student tot goue leeu van die liriese links, uiteindelik, eienaardig, konserwatief. Hy ontleed bekwaam die strome van die Amerikaanse linkses waarin Eastman geswem het, en Eastman se filosofiese verskille met intellektuele reuse soos John Dewey, Sigmund Freud en Leon Trotsky - maar dit lyk nie of hy hom daaraan steur nie.

Wat Irmscher veral aangaan, is die romantiese en seksuele lewe van Max Eastman. Na Rauh trou Eastman nog twee keer, in albei gevalle met Oos -Europese emigrante wat hom aanbid het, emosioneel en dikwels finansieel ondersteun het, en die oneindige optog van jonger vroue wat Eastman genoodsaak gevoel het om te beoefen en te verlei en lief te hê en te vertrek. Benewens die aktrise Deshon, was daar die digter Genevieve Taggard, die danseres Lisa Duncan, die skilder Ione Robinson. Voeg hierby Nina Smirnova, Vera Zaliasnik, Charmion von Wigand, Scudder Middleton, Florence Southard, Florence Norton, en soveel, baie (baie) meer. Daar was ook sy suster, die radikale skrywer en feminis Crystal Eastman, met wie hy vermoedelik 'n eroties gelaaide verhouding gehad het.

Seks, liefde, romanse en jaloesie is nie in wese oninteressante materiaal nie. Groot romans bestaan ​​uit sulke goed. Maar Eastman se liefdeslewe was na 'n rukkie nie interessant nie. Dit was herhalend en hol. Hy het daarvan gehou om vroue te verlei. Hy het seks geniet. Hy was goed daarmee. Kort-kort, tot die einde, sou hy wanhopig verlief raak op 'n jonger, vars gesig. Hy skryf liriese briewe aan haar en soms selfs middelmatige gedigte, maar hy laat Eliena (of later, Yvette) nie vir haar agter nie.

Toe hy jonk was, kon hierdie sake sexy en glansryk wees. Toe hy ouer word, het hulle hartseer en kompulsief gelyk. 'My liefde, ek sou my siel gee om vanaand in u arms te lê,' het hy in 1917, toe hy 34 was, aan die 24-jarige Florence Deshon geskryf. Twaalf jaar later, op 46, maak hy 'n weergawe van dieselfde toespraak aan die 17-jarige skilder Ione Robinson, 'n protégé van sy tweede vrou. 'N Dekade later, nou 56, skryf hy aan die 18-jarige Creigh Collins:' Ek wil heeldag in die groot leunstoel sit met jou kop warm tussen my knieë, en poësie, poësie dryf om my op jou jong stem asof die sproei die betekenis in my oor dra. ” A year later he impregnated his secretary, the 25-year-old Florence Norton. When she asked for his help in getting an abortion, “Max provided a doctor’s address but otherwise became ‘hysterical’ and essentially abandoned her.” While she was getting a “painful, nauseating abortion,” Eastman was at his house in Croton-on-Hudson, safely back in the orbit of his wife.

The last few decades of Eastman’s life present a problem to any biographer, since they were substantially less interesting than what had come before. His writing was more predictable and less generous in spirit. He led no magazines, and wasn’t particularly central to those to which he contributed. He wielded some influence in conservative and anti-communist circles, through organizations like the American Committee for Cultural Freedom and magazines like Nasionale hersiening, but he was essential to none of them. His memoirs, Enjoyment of Living in 1948 and Love and Revolution in 1964, were interesting as documents of his age, and for their unusual frankness about sex, but they weren’t great books.

Eastman himself seemed to be aware of the problem. Irmscher suggests that he responded, in part, by doubling down on sex. “His political world shrunken to the size of his country cottage or to a sheet in his typewriter,” writes Irmscher,

Max’s overactive erotic life took on dimensions that would have seemed unmanageable to lesser men. … His correspondence files bulge with letters from women, some of whom have left only their first names to posterity, among them Marie, Lillian, Rada, Creigh, Martha, Amy, and, inevitably, a series of Florences.

Irsmcher is persuasive that Eastman was compensating for a decline in his political influence and a dimming of his myth. The problem, for the biography, is that there is no larger theory of the meaning and significance of Eastman’s life within which to situate this observation. So the book just follows Eastman into his decadence.

It’s easy, as the examples of his womanizing pile up, to lose sight of the reasons why Eastman is the subject not just of this biography but a number of full biographies before it, dozens of chapters in histories and studies of the American left, and thousands of sentences and paragraphs and pages in other books, articles, essays, and documentaries on American political and cultural life in the twentieth century. In April of this year, Routledge re-issued his 1926 book Marx, Lenin and the Science of Revolution. Eastman appears as one of the five featured subjects of Jeremy McCarter’s new group biography Young Radicals: In the War for American Ideals. To the extent that he continues to be read and written about, it’s because of the work that put him at the center of a certain kind of literary and political life for decades. That he was a cad is good to know, but if that were the last or first word about him, there would be no reason to read a word about him almost 50 years after his death.

Irmscher ends Max Eastman: A Life on the sands of Jungle Beach, in Martha’s Vineyard, where Eastman liked to frolic nude. It is a natural end for the book, but it ill serves Eastman’s legacy. It forces us, once again, to dwell too exclusively on his private character, which can’t withstand the scrutiny.

“Among those on the Vineyard who like to shed their clothes,” writes Irmscher,

Max is still remembered, without any equivocation, as a great hero, a god during a time when the island wasn’t yet the playground of the rich and people still loved their bodies. ‘He was a rascal and a rake,’ remembers one longtime Vineyard resident, now in his late seventies. Not only was he always naked, he always had three or four naked women with him. ‘He was a great believer in life. How can you believe in life if you’re all clothed?’ And thus Max Eastman lives on, in the memory of some, a modern God Pan, though more handsome and with soft hands, parting the bushes, stepping out onto the warm sand and into the flowing sun.

Six months after Eastman died, his son Daniel Eastman died, either by heart attack or suicide. As a final revenge on his father, Daniel left his inheritance—some of the land the old man loved most dearly—to a chippy he’d been messing around with. Yvette cleaned up Daniel’s mess, as she had always done for his father, paying the woman some quick cash to give up her claim to the land and go away. This is a natural end to Max Eastman: A Life, but it is much less than Eastman deserves.


The little-known story of the men who fought for women’s votes

By Brooke Kroeger

On May 6, 1911, under perfect blue skies, 10,000 spectators lined both sides of Fifth Avenue “from the curb to the building line” for the second annual New York Suffrage Day parade. Somewhere between 3,000 and 5,000 marchers strode in a stream of purple, green, and white, from 57th Street to a giant rally in Union Square. Bicolored banners demarcated the groups by their worldly work, as architects, typists, aviators, explorers, nurses, physicians, actresses, shirtwaist makers, cooks, painters, writers, chauffeurs, sculptors, journalists, editors, milliners, hairdressers, office holders, librarians, decorators, teachers, farmers, artists’ models, “even pilots with steamboats painted on their banners.” Women’s work was the point.

To draw broad attention for this spectacle, the women had help from a single troupe of men in their midst — 89 in all, by most accounts — dressed not in the Scottish kilts of the bagpipers or the smartly pressed uniforms of the bands, but in suits, ties, fedoras, and the odd top hat. They marched four abreast in the footsteps of the women, under a banner of their own.

These men were not random supporters but representatives of a momentous, yet subtly managed, development in the suffrage movement’s seventh decade. Eighteen months earlier, 150 men of means or influence or both had joined together under their own charter to become what their banner proclaimed them, the Men’s League for Woman Suffrage. Since the end of 1909, they had been speaking, writing, editing or publishing, planning, and lobbying New York’s governor and legislators on behalf of the suffrage cause.

​They did so until the vote was won.

Many of their names resound through history as political kingmakers and promoters of such progressive causes as civil rights, child welfare, the educational advancement of black Americans, and, later, disarmament.

A merican men as individuals had publicly supported the rights of women as far back as 1775, when Thomas Paine published his essay “An Occasional Letter on the Female Sex.” After the Seneca Falls Convention to support women’s rights in 1848, other men wrote more specifically in support of women’s enfranchisement, notably William Lloyd Garrison, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Frederick Douglass. In England, John Stuart Mill’s “The Subjection of Women,” published in 1869, echoed many of the arguments that his wife, Harriet Taylor Mill, had presented in “The Enfranchisement of Women,” 18 years earlier. And briefly, between 1874 and 1875, a Young Men’s Woman Suffrage League met in New York City, fielding pro-suffrage speakers from its membership — physicians, attorneys, and professors among them — at some 80 meetings in the Plimpton Building, at 30 Stuyvesant Street in what is now the East Village.

Yet to take on the cause of women’s suffrage was almost always to do so at a price, especially for men. So it was on the parade line in 1911, where the men endured what, for the times, were unforgettably pernicious assaults on their masculinity. “Hold up your skirts, girls!” rowdy onlookers shouted. “You won’t get any dinner unless you march all the way, Vivian!” For all two miles of the walk, a newspaper clipping recounted, the men submitted to “jeers, whistles, ‘mea-a-ows,’ and such cries as ‘Take that handkerchief out of your cuff.’”

In time, male suffragists would become commonplace — and then all but forgotten as an orchestrated movement force. This is not so surprising. The story of the triumph of the suffrage cause has long belonged to the women, and rightly so. In the century since New York State granted women the vote, in November 1917, strikingly few details about the men’s efforts have thus emerged.

F rom a contemporary standpoint, it is remarkable to consider that 100 years ago, these prominent men not only gave their names to the cause of women’s rights or called in the odd favor, but invested in the fight. They created and ran an organization expressly committed to an effort that, up until the point at which they joined, had been seen as women’s work for a marginal nonstarter of a cause. From the beginning of their involvement, these men willingly acted on orders from and in tandem with the women who ran the greater state and national suffrage campaigns. How many times in American history has such collaboration happened, especially with this balance of power?

This episode in the suffrage epic provides a means of observing the shift in the common perception of the suffrage movement as a whole. It also demonstrates the strategic brilliance of a decision by leaders in NAWSA, the National American Woman Suffrage Association, the main suffrage organization in the United States, to cultivate relationships with the well-heeled and the well-connected — women as well as men. In this period, Katherine Duer Mackay, wife of the communications mogul Clarence Mackay, and Alva Smith Vanderbilt Belmont, widow of the businessman and politician O.H.P. Belmont, formed and presided over influential pro-suffrage societies. Dashing pro-suffrage couples of the period were James Lees Laidlaw, the financier who was on the board of directors of what became Standard & Poor’s, and his wife, Harriet Burton Laidlaw Frederick Nathan, the wealthy scion of an important Sephardi Jewish family, and his wife, the social activist Maud Nathan, his first cousin, also born a Nathan. Narcissa Cox Vanderlip and her husband, Frank A. Vanderlip, who was the president of the National City Bank of New York, were deeply involved, as were Vira Boarman Whitehouse and her husband, the stockbroker James Norman de Rapelye Whitehouse. In short order, the media attention they attracted brightly burnished the movement’s image in the mainstream press.

Over the course of these crucial years, the staunchly anti-suffrage editorial stance of such newspapers as the New York Times en die New York Herald bled a little less heavily onto their news pages. Editorialists, especially at the Tye, took longer. As the Men’s League emerged in New York, and was rapidly cloned in city and county chapters across the state and well beyond, the mocking derision and dismissiveness that initially dominated coverage of the “Mere Men” in particular, and of the suffrage movement more broadly, gave way to acceptance of an idea whose time was about to come.

As the movement grew in strength and acceptance, its important new champions attracted beneficial press, whether they gave speeches, appeared at marches or at social gatherings, worked the halls of influence in Albany and Washington, or crafted or published buzz-worthy essays or attention-getting diatribes in the form of letters to the editor.

Beyond the arc of change in press coverage and public perception, it is worth noting other aspects of the male suffragists’ lives. For one, there are the personal relationships that motivated them to take up what in 1908 was still widely viewed as a laughably unimportant cause. Standing for the rights of workers was surely a factor for reformers like Max Eastman. His sister, Crystal Eastman his girlfriend for part of this period, Inez Milholland, who remained a close friend and his first wife, Ida Rauh, were all deeply involved with the labor reform movement, notably the shirtwaist workers strike of 1909–1910. Unsurprisingly, behind nearly every one of the men who put the most energy and time into the suffrage movement was an ardent movement activist (or two, or three, or four) who, as in Eastman’s case, also happened to be his wife, his mother, his sister, or his love interest. Daughters could also prove persuasive, as evidenced by the involvement of John Milholland, father of Inez, and ultimately by the evolving position of President Woodrow Wilson, two of whose daughters, Margaret and Jessie, were known to be pro-suffrage.

Worth appraisal, too, is the strategic decision of NAWSA president Anna Howard Shaw and her colleagues, after a long period of reluctance, to solicit or embrace the offers of support from these particular new allies. NAWSA did this assuming that participation was likely to be nominal. Shaw asked little. Yet the new male activists, like their society lady counterparts, gave of themselves far beyond what NAWSA’s leaders had expected. In fact, before too long, these dignified gents showed a surprising willingness to don costumes, act, dance, and work the streets. They attended city, county, state, national, and international meetings. They joined delegations and hosted lavish banquets. They lobbied at the state and national levels and issued loud, formal, headline-producing protests when the police in New York and Washington mistreated marchers or left them unprotected against the onslaught of catcalling, brickbatting mobs. The lawyers among them stepped up to represent the women suffragists who wound up in court.

Robert Cameron Beadle, secretary of the Men’s League of New York after Eastman, rode horseback from New York to Washington, D.C., with a women’s equestrian delegation. The Nathans and Laidlaws made statewide automobile recruitment trips. On separate occasions, the two couples went national, traveling out West to work on separate state suffrage campaigns.

As Shaw had presumed would happen, the planning minutiae and execution of the men’s involvement in major events often fell to the women.

Of course, in this period there were also vocal male detractors from the same professional and editorial classes. Pearson’s en Dames tuisblad commissioned major anti-suffrage investigations by the journalist Richard Barry that in turn brought a barrage of published rebuttal. Men’s anti-suffrage groups formed in reaction, but with not nearly the staying power, constancy, support, or impact of the male forces that supported the cause. And yet more than once, an invited male speaker — including a sitting president — stunned his hosts and audiences by speaking publicly against women’s suffrage at movement-sponsored events.

With few exceptions, it is also evident from the relative paucity of references to suffrage in the biographies, autobiographies, and personal correspondence of the Men’s League’s influential founders — Peabody, Wise, and Villard in particular — that local, state, and national elections, affairs of state, and civil rights took clear precedence over suffrage on their agendas. This was true even at moments when suffrage was as big a front-page story.

The men’s important contributions were especially apparent during the New York legislative and voter victories of 1917. Who else but the prominent men among the movement’s declared backers had such ready personal access to the — also male — state and federal legislators and government leaders, to publishers, or to the editorial elite? It worked to the movement’s extreme advantage that so many League members and leaders were themselves publishers and the editorial elite. Twice, Eastman sparred publicly with Theodore Roosevelt. At various points, Peabody, Villard, Wise, Creel, Harvey, Hapgood, Malone, and Eastman all had Woodrow Wilson’s ear. Most of them were among Wilson’s earliest political backers Eastman had his respect. Creel, in the critical period when Wilson at long last came out in favor of the federal suffrage amendment, was on “terms of intimacy” with the president, meeting with him almost daily in his capacity as chair of the Committee on Public Information after the United States entered World War I in 1917.

No doubt an accumulation of other factors, far greater than the Men’s Leagues, led to the ultimate success of the women’s suffrage campaign: seven long decades of effort by passionate women, the changing times and political winds, the burgeoning public support, the growing number of states where women with the vote could influence outcomes, the movingly sacrificial role women played after the United States entered World War I. Still, once the details are known, it is hard to ignore the boost that the men provided. Their involvement amounted to more than an “influential factor” or “invaluable help.” Their commitment showcases the value elite individuals who act with care can bring to marginalized movements, particularly those with social justice aims. The impact of Men’s League actions a century ago speaks loudly to the strategic importance of cultivating people with influence and magnetic media appeal, those who can attract positive public attention, open access to those in positions of power, and alter public perception.

It was a major departure for men of such stature to decide that it mattered for women to vote, to recognize that as a chartered pro-suffrage organization, men could wield influence in ways that women could not, and to understand that to make a difference, they would be required to offer more than an early-20th-century equivalent of a celebrity endorsement or a goodwill ambassadorship — the kinds of gestures we see most often today. The founders of the Men’s League knew that to help sway the course of history, they needed a full-fledged national, then multinational, organization, with all the effort and expense that implied. They needed an entity in which men of great standing would subordinate themselves to women in a women-driven enterprise devoted to a “women’s cause,” and would claim center stage only when called upon or needed to do so.

This article appears, in slightly different form, in The Suffragents: How Women Used Men to Get the Vote (State University of New York Press, Albany, 2017), by Brooke Kroeger.

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What is IDA?

The International Development Association (IDA) is the part of the World Bank that helps the world’s poorest countries. Overseen by 173 shareholder nations, IDA aims to reduce poverty by providing zero to low-interest loans (called “credits”) and grants for programs that boost economic growth, reduce inequalities, and improve people’s living conditions.

IDA complements the World Bank’s original lending arm—the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (IBRD). IBRD was established to function as a self-sustaining business and provides loans and advice to middle-income and credit-worthy poor countries. IBRD and IDA share the same staff and headquarters and evaluate projects with the same rigorous standards.

IDA is one of the largest sources of assistance for the world’s 74 poorest countries and is the single largest source of donor funds for basic social services in these countries. IDA lends money on concessional terms. This means that IDA credits have a zero or very low interest charge and repayments are stretched over 30 to 40 years, including a 5- to 10-year grace period. IDA also provides grants to countries at risk of debt distress.

In addition to concessional loans and grants, IDA provides significant levels of debt relief through the Heavily Indebted Poor Countries (HIPC) Initiative and the Multilateral Debt Relief Initiative (MDRI).

In the fiscal year ending June 30, 2020, IDA commitments totaled $30.48 billion, of which 26 percent was provided on grant terms. This includes 305 new projects. Furthermore, IDA’s support is part of the broader $160 billion World Bank Group response to the COVID-19 pandemic over a 15-month period ending June 2021. It includes $50-55 billion in low-interest credits and grants focused on saving lives, protecting the poor and vulnerable, creating jobs, saving businesses, and building a more resilient recovery. Since 1960, IDA has provided $422 billion for investments in 114 countries. Annual commitments have increased steadily and averaged about $25 billion over the last three years.

IDA is a multi-issue institution, supporting a range of development activities that pave the way toward equality, economic growth, job creation, higher incomes, and better living conditions. IDA's work covers primary education, basic health services, clean water and sanitation, agriculture, business climate improvements, infrastructure, and institutional reforms.


Labor History

O’Sullivan, the first female organizer for the American Federation of Labor, was born on this date in 1864. She organized the Woman’s Bookbinder Union and was a founder of the National Women’s Trade Union League.
photo: Leaders of the Women’s Trade Union in 1907. Shown from left to right are Hannah Hennessy, Ida Rauh, Mary Dreir, Mary Kenney O’Sullivan, Margaret Robins, Margie Jones, Agnes Nestor and Helen Marot.

This week’s Labor History Today podcast: A very unusual strike
On today’s show, originally released January 6, 2019, we talk with historian Erik Loomis about frustrated workers in a very unusual place who decided to strike in a very unusual way.
Last week’s show: (12/29): 100 years of the ILO

The AFL Iron and Steel Organizing Committee ends the “Great Steel Strike.” Some 350,000 to 400,000 steelworkers had been striking for more than three months, demanding union recognition. The strike failed – 1920


The Passions of Max Eastman

One of the “hottest radicals” of the early twentieth century, Max Eastman is now largely left out of the pantheon of the left. Can we still learn from this idiosyncratic editor today?

Eric Arnesen &squarf Winter 2018 Max Eastman, 1900 (Library of Congress)

Max Eastman: A Life
by Christoph Irmscher
Yale University Press, 2017, 434 pp.

The history of the American left has produced its share of heroes and celebrities. The memory of Eugene Debs has survived for his righteous indignation over capitalist inequality, Emma Goldman for her feminism and passionate anti-statism, W.E.B. Du Bois for his trenchant analysis of racial oppression, Mother Jones for her tireless advocacy on behalf of labor, and Joe Hill for his music and martyrdom. These women and men all touched moral chords whose echoes move us in the present. They make up what historian Eric Foner calls our “ongoing radical tradition,” one in which socialism “refers not to a blueprint for a future society but to the need to rein in the excesses of capitalism, . . . to empower ordinary people in a political system verging on plutocracy, and to develop policies that make opportunity real for the millions of Americans for whom it is not.”

But the radical tradition contains more than enduring egalitarian passion. The history of the twentieth-century American left also includes the failure of many left movements, as well as the eventual disaffection of so many activists who made up their ranks. The impulse to highlight the heroic is understandable, but it leaves unanswered the key questions of how and why those movements failed or why so many abandoned the left. A selective memory that overlooks the less admirable dimensions of the left’s history serves today’s progressives poorly.

Max Eastman does not occupy a place in the pantheon of the left. He once did. By the end of the First World War, he was “one of the hottest of radicals” of his day, in the words of Platteland tydskrif. To the few on the left who remember him, he was the idiosyncratic editor who breathed creative life into the journal the Masses and who, with courage and humor, defied the government’s attempt to silence him and his colleagues in a sedition trial during the First World War. To the even fewer on the right who recognize his name, it was Eastman’s journey from the left into the anticommunist camp in the late 1930s and 1940s that stands out. Eastman’s name, then, is largely forgotten and his legacy for both left and right unsurprisingly remains unexplored.

That’s unfortunate, though not because he can be pressed into contemporary political service—his analyses and writings are too idiosyncratic and shifting to be of actual use to anybody. Eastman was a self-absorbed seeker of the spotlight for whom self-promotion and the pursuit of pleasure too often competed with his political commitments. His critique of Marxism is of largely academic value, since its influence, even in its day, was hard to discern. And while his eventual embrace of free-market capitalism in the 1940s and 1950s may have kept him in the limelight, he was more a popularizer of conservative ideas and spouter of right-wing dogma than he was a deep thinker of the right. So why bother with Max Eastman at all?

Eastman’s life story casts light on important parts of the history of twentieth-century radical politics. It reminds us of the intensity of ideological debate and of the countless factional battles and sectarian struggles that defined left politics and engrossed so many partisan combatants. Eastman’s early embrace of the Bolshevik model revealed the facile infatuation of many American leftists with a foreign model that had little applicability to the United States. His disillusionment with that model and evolving critique first of Stalinism and eventually of Marxism itself may have been prescient, but the hostile reception of that critique by those in the orbit of the communist left displayed the baleful influence of party doctrine and discipline that required automatic rejection. Eastman’s journey from left to right is a poignant reminder that immersion in the communist left of the 1920s and 1930s gave rise to a surprising number of angry defectors who infused the anticommunist camp with their bitter, first-hand personal experiences. For those interested in the left’s history, Eastman’s life offers more than a few cautionary tales.

These are not, however, the matters than animate Eastman’s latest biography. “Max Eastman was, for quite some time, one of the most widely known American writers both at home and abroad,” begins Christoph Irmscher in his new book. “[A]dmired and loved, loathed and lambasted,” Eastman lived a life that resisted efforts to fit it into a “neat story line.” Perhaps so, but Irmscher attempts to do so by highlighting the personal over the political. His is an intimate biography of one of the twentieth century’s more flamboyant political writers, a sophisticated and meticulously researched account of a political celebrity. We learn much about the psychological demons haunting Eastman from childhood until death we learn something about his political passions as he traversed continents and the ideological spectrum. What we don’t quite learn is why Eastman matters. The answer to that question lies not in the personal but in the political, not in the immediate biographical detail, but its placement onto the wider political canvas.

Born in 1883 in upstate New York, Eastman studied philosophy at Columbia under John Dewey, attended suffrage meetings, and became a well-known speaker on the lecture circuit. His sister Crystal, herself a prominent activist, introduced him to Ida Rauh, an attorney and secretary of the Women’s Trade Union League, who in turn introduced him to the works of Marx and Engels, a body of writing he would engage with, first from the left and later from the right, for the rest of his life. He quickly came to see his marriage to Rauh in 1911 as a grave mistake, one that led to the loss of what he called his “irrational joy in life.” That problem he addressed by having affairs with other women, a recurring pattern that Irmscher covers in copious detail.

Eastman’s entrée into the broader world of left-wing politics was an invitation to edit the Masses, a job that conveniently got him out of his house in rural Connecticut and away from his wife and newborn son. How and why Max embraced Marxism is not Irmscher’s concern Eastman’s transformation of the Masses into a feisty, creative journal opposed to dogmatism is. With war raging in Europe, Eastman, like a good socialist, declared that he did “not recognize the right of a government to draft me to [a] war whose purposes I do not believe in.” He delivered antiwar speeches across the country on behalf of the People’s Council of America for Democracy and the Terms of Peace. Repression eventually caught up with him when the postmaster general barred the Masses from the mail a mob of soldiers forced him to flee from a speaking engagement in Fargo, North Dakota, and the government indicted him and other Masses writers for unlawfully obstructing the draft. Two trials in 1918 failed to convict the defendants but afforded them a pulpit to denounce the war further. Die Masses went out of business. Eastman, with his sister Crystal, simply founded a new magazine, the Bevryder.

Then, in 1922, it was off to Europe to witness the fruits of the victorious Bolshevik Revolution up close. “At the age of thirty-nine he had divested himself of most of the responsibilities others entering middle age have accumulated,” Irmscher observes, “and he was eager for new adventures.” Adventures are what he got in the Soviet Union. He attended party conferences, met with leading Soviet officials, immersed himself in the study of the Russian language, wrote articles, worked on a novel and a biography of Trotsky, had multiple affairs, and otherwise enjoyed an extended vacation of several years’ duration. He was initially impressed with what he saw: “Even the beggars in their dust-colored rags seemed young and hopeful, their wonderful faces radiating contentment,” in Irmscher’s words. The horror stories some Russians shared with him made little impression on the radical American writer. In the pieces he sent back to the United States, he was “reinventing Moscow as a larger version of Greenwich Village.”

Eastman’s political myopia eventually gave way to a somewhat clearer view of what was transpiring around him. The “dogged chanting of party songs” at conferences annoyed him, as did the humorlessness of party officials. He became fascinated by Leon Trotsky just as the veteran revolutionary’s star was fading. Lenin’s death in 1924 and the ensuing factional battles that saw Stalin victorious troubled him. With his new Russian wife, Eliena Krylenko, he decamped for France where he continued to write, supported by royalties and his spouse’s wages. What he wrote placed him at odds with the dominant faction in the Soviet Union and its followers in the United States. While hardly uncritical of Trotsky, Eastman sang his praises in a biography of his early years. In a short but hard-hitting volume, After Lenin Died (1925), he highlighted Lenin’s preference for Trotsky as his successor and denounced the triumph of Stalin and his allies whose thirst for power was slaked by their “deceiving, or bewildering, or bull dozing, or otherwise silencing, or scattering to the ends of the earth, all those strong Communists who might oppose them” in their “dictatorship of the officialdom.”

Needless to say, those words did not endear him to the communist left. Upon his return to the United States he found a country that barely remembered him and a left-wing community in which he was hardly welcome. Robert Minor, a cartoonist, communist, and editor of the Bevryder, trashed Eastman’s Leon Trotsky: The Portrait of a Youth, in the pages of the Daaglikse werker for its “hysterical attack upon the Communist International” and its author’s “vilification of the Soviet government.” Bertram Wolfe took him to task in the pages of the Communist for his theoretical forays against “Marxian metaphysics,” concluding that “Narcissus falling in love with his own reflection had nothing on Eastman when it comes to admiring himself.” Eastman’s relationship with Trotsky, whose writings he translated, had its ups and downs before their falling-out became permanent in the mid-1930s with Trotsky’s frustration over royalties and with Eastman’s insistence on dialectics as a “‘metaphysical contraption,’ and nothing more, theology, in other words, but not science.” Eastman was not a Trotskyist and, try as he might, he did not remain much of a Marxist either.

His return to the United States was “not a triumphant one,” Irmscher notes. “He had no position to come back to, no audiences eager for this thoughts.” The lecture circuit provided him with new admirers and income, he began new affairs, and he published literary, psychological, and political works. A brief stint as the host of the radio game show Word Game in the late 1930s eased his financial problems, and his anti-Stalinism generated regular work as a paid speaker. The latter activity, unsurprisingly, only reinforced the communists’ dislike of Eastman. At one point, they accused him of being a spy for the British government, resulting in a lawsuit and a $1,500 settlement that Eastman collected.

By the late 1930s he had given up on Marxism. He returned American communists’ opprobrium with fire of his own, accusing “Stalin’s apostles” of undertaking a stealth campaign against democracy and the American way of life, aided by countless liberals and other non-communists who joined front organizations during the Popular Front years. In so charging Eastman was hardly alone right-wingers had been making the same case for years. Here, Irmscher argues, Eastman crossed a line, for he “named names, in eerie anticipation of the witch hunts of the 1950s.” The charge is anachronistic and, whatever one thinks of the organizations Eastman identified, the participation of Theodore Dreiser, Paul Robeson, and selected others was a fairly reliable indication of party activity behind the scenes. It may be “that none of these people belong to the Communist Party,” Eastman admitted, “but wherever their names are played up in a political ‘cause,’ you may suspect that a party nucleus is at work in the underground.” He wasn’t generally wrong.

The ferocity of Eastman’s anticommunism led the editor of Reader's Digest to hire him as a “roving editor” and pay him handsomely for his articles. Eastman needed the money the Digest provided him with a huge outlet for his ideas, even if the work was at times degrading and his relationship with its editor humiliating. Now the “rupture with his former comrades” was complete. For “every new friend he made Max was losing dozens of old ones,” Irmscher concludes. In the years ahead, Eastman would continue his anticommunist diatribes, ally (uneasily) with William F. Buckley and his Nasionale hersiening, and offer rationalizations for Senator Joseph McCarthy’s crusade. (The term “witchhunt,” he declared in 1952, was “a new smear tactic invented by the Commies and their fellow travelers when the word Red-baiter got worn out.” Those denounced as witch-hunters were “in the main clear-headed patriots of freedom.”) Eastman, by his own definition, had become a “radical conservative” before settling on “libertarian conservative.”

Irmscher finds a degree of continuity in Eastman’s outlook as he moved from left to right. “Through all the permutations of his political views,” he insists, “one hope had remained the same for Max: that the reforms he advocated as a pragmatist, feminist, socialist, and defender of the Bolsheviks and then of Trotsky would result in greater freedom for the individual to do exactly what he or she wanted.” That’s an unsatisfying conclusion. Irmscher is more on the mark when he avers that Eastman had from the beginning wanted nothing more than “his freedom, the freedom to do and think what he wanted to do and think.” Eastman would not have disagreed. “I care more about the freedom for the body and soul of man than I do about what is called ‘social justice,’” he admitted. His version of utopia, Irmscher maintains, was “a place of continued sexual pleasure in which all living things are equal, all wishes are gratified, nothing decays, the resources are infinite, and no one needs to feel guilty about anything at all.” Nice work if you can get it.

Eastman’s pursuit of “freedom” remained an individual one, carried out from the lectern, in publications, and in the bedroom, rarely tested through participation in actual social or political movements. To the extent that he found that freedom for himself on Martha’s Vineyard, where he purchased a house, it was because of the income flowing in from lectures and the Digest and the many women he pursued successfully over the years. He never recognized that satisfying his own freedom often rested on the subordination of those around him. This should not be surprising, given the times. But Eastman’s approach was hardly a model for others.

William O’Neill’s excellent The Last Romantic: A Life of Max Eastman, published in 1978, focused on the more political dimension of Eastman’s life and remains an indispensable history of the left. Irmscher’s biography, in contrast, is more about the personal rather than political side of Eastman’s life. His detailed reconstruction of Eastman’s romantic entanglements, insecurities, anxieties, and passions is largely made possible by his unrestricted access to the Eastman papers at Indiana University.

Was Eastman’s life important? Eastman shaped the socialist left in the 1910s and became an astute critic of Stalinism in the 1920s and 1930s, even if his contributions to Marxist theory proved fleeting and, later, his contributions to anticommunism were clichéd. His poetry, one novel, and volumes on laughter have not endured. Max’s great fear, Irmscher suggests, was that “he might be talking only to himself.” He wasn’t. But his legacy was shorter lived than he might have wished.

Remarking on Eastman’s first volume of autobiography, Enjoyment of Living, in 1948, the New York Times reviewer Orville Prescott found that “[r]eading it does not convey the impression that Mr. Eastman enjoyed his life particularly, nor does it give much enjoyment to the reader.” Like Salvador Dalí, whose autobiography Prescott did not appreciate either, Eastman seemed to believe that because something happened to him “it is necessarily interesting.” As for his “erotic longings,” Eastman “broadcasts his at the top of his voice,” recalling them with an “enthusiasm proper only to the psychiatrist’s office.” “‘What of it?’ one asks. ‘Why do you insist on telling all this?’” were Prescott’s deflating questions.

Given that Eastman is a largely forgotten figure today, Prescott’s questions can be asked of this new biography. Irmscher skillfully reconstructs a life marked by desire, pleasure, pain, and tortured human relationships. Maar wat daarvan? The connection between Eastman’s personal life and the broader political forces in which it was embedded remains elusive.

Eastman may not belong in the left’s Hall of Fame. It is difficult to fit his flawed life into the “ongoing radical tradition” that today’s left wishes to build upon. But the “rich heritage of American radicalism,” as Foner calls it, is inseparable from a less admirable heritage (to put it mildly), one that cannot be set aside because it is inconvenient or embarrassing. To the extent that Eastman is of relevance today, it is to remind us that awareness of the entirety of the left tradition may be of greater value than a selective past that may appear to be useful, but is ultimately misleading.

Eric Arnesen is professor of history at George Washington University and Vice Dean for Faculty and Administration in its Columbian College of Arts and Sciences. He is writing a biography of A. Philip Randolph.


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