It is the Soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the Soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us freedom to protest. It is the Soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial. It is the Soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.
–attributed to either Charles M. Province or Father Dennis Edward O’Brien

I’ve seen this militaristic screed on several conservative blogs, often accompanied by inspirational pictures of Old Glory flapping against a rich, blue sky. If the blogger has a relative serving in the military, his or her picture is usually also included with the poem. It’s an understandably seductive notion for military personnel: the idea that you’re a part of something bigger than yourself, actively involved in securing the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our posterity. During the 2008 presidential campaign, an anti-war protester interrupted Sarah Palin during a rally in Florida, and as security removed the protester from the site, Palin called out after him, "Bless your heart sir, my son is in Iraq fighting for your right to protest." That comment brought the crowd to their feet, and footage of the statement went viral among right wing blogs.

Both Palin’s comments and the “It Is The Soldier” poem are examples of the dangerous tendency in this country to romanticize the military, attributing all of our freedoms and liberties to the steadfast vigilance of American might. While it's nice to think that it is the soldier, not the reporter or poet, who gives us the freedom of speech and of the press, a quick look at the history of free speech and free press in the US shows that those freedoms are most often threatened during times of war. The Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 were implemented to stifle dissent during an undeclared naval war with France. Writers, speakers, activists, and abolitionists were harassed with various sedition and criminal conspiracy laws throughout the 19th century. The Espionage Act of 1917 and the Sedition Act of 1918 made it illegal to criticize the US's entry into WWI. The 1940 Alien Registration Act was used mainly as a tool against Communist or Socialist Worker groups, and during and after WWII dissent was suppressed with loyalty oaths, censorship, and blacklists. The government also actively suppressed Vietnam War protest movements (often violently), and FISA the USA PATRIOT Act have increased domestic spying powers during the current War on Terror. No American war has ever protected or expanded our first amendment rights. No US battle has ever been fought to provide dissidents more room to operate. The battles for our fragile first amendment rights have often been left to the poets, reporters, activists, lawyers, and organizers who exercise them, at times facing the very soldiers who are supposedly responsible for protecting those rights.

 

And it's not just the First Amendment that the little people have fought and bled and died for. Child labor laws, the eight hour day, the five day work week, workplace safety standards, the minimum wage: all of these victories were won through battles fought by regular people just like you and me. These were wars that we never learn about in history class. The casualties of this war have no national monument. Dedicated men and women, practically powerless against the formidable leaders of industry and their allies in government, somehow managed to rise up and overcome unimaginable adversity to win victories that would have put David and his slingshot to shame. As children, we didn’t have to experience the horrors of working sixteen hours underground in the coal mines each day. We don’t have to put our elderly grandparents to work in order to put scraps of food on the table. We don’t have to worry about dying young because our only option in life is to do dangerous work in unsafe conditions. This is their legacy to us, and, unfortunately, it’s a legacy that is too easy to take for granted. Just look at another phenomenon from the recent election: Joe the Plumber. A hundred years ago a guy who identified himself by just his name and his working class occupation would have been the poster child for the socialist revolution, not a conservative icon crusading to protect those in the upper tiers of the tax code from a small tax hike. As workers, we’ve become completely disconnected from our heritage. Jurgis the Meatpacker is spinning in his fictional grave.

So I embarked on a project that attempted to address these two issues at once: it protests our nation’s unhealthy over-glorification of the military while also looking to reestablish the connection between workers and their hard-fought history. My initial plan was to design a series of posters in the style of WWI and WWII propaganda posters that used historical images of common people fighting for their rights juxtaposed with patriotic catchphrases often associated with the military, such as "Freedom Isn't Free" and “United We Stand.” Depictions of US soldiers in the patriotic posters of the early 20th century were often glamorous, romantic, and larger than life, while the menaces they faced were either dark and evil or buffoonish caricatures. These propaganda posters have an easily recognizable visual style, which, when repurposed to glorify the struggles of American worker, creates a startling effect for the viewer once he or she realizes that the soldier is not the heroic subject. This is where the shock value of the project lies, and it is that shock which inspires the symbolic action that will help reconnect the viewer with their place in labor history.



The first poster I designed was “Freedom Is Not Free.” The idea came from a 1942 John Falter poster that depicts a group of white Americans cowering against a brick wall, while the menacing shadow of a brutal dictator beating a helpless victim falls across them. The poster is headlined with a paraphrased quote from Abraham Lincoln’s “House Divided” speech: “This world cannot exist half slave and half free.” Depending on the version, the poster then entreats the viewer to either “Fight for Freedom!” or “Sacrifice for Freedom!” My version retains the menacing shadow and dead-end brick wall of Falter’s poster, but the looming figure is no longer beating an unseen, powerless victim, instead advancing upon our “free” American, his back up against the wall. The American wears a sandwich board proclaiming that he is on strike, demanding shorter hours and a living wage. With no option for escape, he faces the coming assault bravely and resolutely. Freedom, the poster reminds us, is not free.

Even without the Falter poster to compare it to, I felt the message of my poster is powerful and clear. Although I deemed it a satisfactory first effort, I was still struggling to capture the visual style of the American propaganda posters, which was very important for the shock value of my project. And although I had used historical images from the labor struggle to create the poster, they were not at all evident to the viewer. (The ominous silhouette is the outline of a cop beating a man during the 1937 Memorial Day Massacre in Chicago, and the face of my resolute American was taken from a promo still for a stage version of The Grapes of Wrath, which I felt was particularly fitting, since Tom told his mother that “wherever they's a cop beatin' up a guy, I'll be there.”)

With my next poster, I tried to better replicate the WWII style while making the historic images more prominent. Titled “United We Stand,” it presents a scene from the Lawrence Textile Strike of 1921 that is particularly tense and dynamic, even though the action in the scene is at a standstill. Surrounded by local police and state militia with their bayonets drawn, the strikers are armed with nothing but their numbers and their American flags, brilliantly colored against the black and white crowd. They stand united, unarmed, facing down those who are the usual heroes of such posters. The image evokes empathy, giving the viewer a sense of the very real dangers faced during the labor struggle. I paid particularly close attention to the typefaces used in the old posters, and I feel my font choices accurately reflect the visual style of the era.

After a few more aborted attempts, I decided to change tactics and instead repurpose the imagery of existing posters of the era. I was inspired by the work of Micah Ian Wright, a graphic artist who I discovered while researching this project, and who came up with an idea very similar to my own. Wright’s Propaganda Remix Project “remixes” old posters for the present day: for example, a WWII era poster of grieving parents, previously captioned “Americans suffer when careless talk kills,” is recaptioned “We lost our son…when he married gay!” Wright’s example proved that the best way to produce an authentic looking period poster—and thereby produce the most shock value—is to actually use the posters of the period.

Using this new method I created seven more posters by altering existing WWI and WWII era images. Some, like “This Is Our Fight, Too” and “Remember…” directly address the fact that soldiers are generally credited as the sole fighters for freedom and justice. Others, like “American Freedom” and “He Fought For Your Freedom,” attempt to recast the American worker as the larger than life hero. Still others, like “Liberty and Justice For All” and “Today’s Torch of Liberty,” hardly needed any changes to be viewed as pro-labor posters.

 To see more, you can visit the website I created to house this particular burst of creative energy.  Thanks for reading, and thanks for stopping by.

 

UPDATE:
Crass Comericialism? Maybe.

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