Procopius's Open Salon Blog

April 2, 1917: When America Joined the World

Mon, 2 Apr 2012 08:04:18 -0400

On this date 95 years ago, America set aside its isolationist heritage and, for better or worse, became a full-fledged member of the international oecumene. It was on April 2, 1917, that President Woodrow Wilson asked Congress for a formal declaration of war against Germany. The sympathies of most Americans long lay with Britain and the Allies. Two and a half years after the first shots were fired, few harbored any illusions that American neutrality was anything but naïve wishful thinking. By the first week of April, a virtual state of war had existed between the United States and Germany for at least a month.

Two years into the Great War, Germany was being strangled by an unrelenting blockade imposed by Britain. Unwilling to defy the British blockade, American trade with Germany and the Central Powers was practically nonexistent. The situation was the reverse when it came to Britain. From 1914 to 1916, American exports to the United Kingdom nearly quadrupled.

It was this trans-Atlantic lifeline that Germany sought to bring to an end when it commenced unrestricted submarine warfare. In the previous five months, German submarines or saboteurs were responsible for destroying 15 American merchant vessels, resulting in 70 casualties. German diplomatic ineptitude inflamed an already volatile situation in late February, when Britain intercepted a telegram from the German Foreign Secretary proposing that Mexico should join in an offensive alliance against the United States in the event the Americans should declare war on Germany.

March of 1917 was perhaps the month that determined the fate of twentieth century Weltpolitik. It was the month when America accepted the inevitability of joining the European fray. The biggest news of all came mid-month, when the Russian Revolution swept the czar from power. With the end of the autocratic Romanov dynasty, the Great War seemed to have morphed into an ideological conflict of representative democracies against medieval repression. Americans applauded the events in far away St. Petersburg, unconcerned that the turmoil there could evolve into something even more repressive than what it had replaced.

In England, news of America’s entry into the war was met with jubilation. The Stars and Stripes flew next to the Union Jack atop the Palace of Westminster. In Berlin, the mood was far gloomier. 300,000 workers were on strike. The Kaiser was becoming more and more impotent as Germany assumed the mantra of a military dictatorship under generals Ludendorff and Hindenburg. That process intensified with America’s entry into the war, bringing a new sense of urgency bordering on panic to Germany’s military leaders.

That’s not to say Germany was impotent this late in the war. Far from it. Germany’s submarine warfare increased in its devastation. U-boat sinkings reached nearly a million tons in the two months following America’s declaration of war. Germany still possessed more military muscle than France, which was teetering on the brink of collapse following a disastrous offensive the second half of April. In the course of two weeks, 250,000 French soldiers were killed or wounded for just 500 yards of real estate. The real question now was whether America’s military impact might have come too late to prevent a French and Italian surrender. That was surely in General Ludendorff’s thoughts as he initiated a series of offensives late in 1917 and early 1918.

Students of history have long debated what would have happened had Germany not provoked America’s entry into the war with its unrestricted submarine warfare. Would the United States have still been pulled into the war by other means? Assuming a negative answer to that question, would Germany have managed to outlast its continental enemies? Or would the shortages of food and materiel force a German surrender even without the presence of American doughboys? I have my doubts about that. I suspect Germany would have outlasted France and Italy. If those countries left the battlefield, I suspect London would have been forced to reach a settlement recognizing German dominance on the continent in return for British control of the seas.

Ultimately, a settlement of that sort would have proved temporary. Nationalism in the Balkans and the Mideast could not be permanently stifled. Lenin, and Stalin after him, would have still ruled Russia. Once Stalin consolidated his hold on power, surely he would have looked at the nationalistic turmoil on Russia’s western border as an opportunity for Russian imperial ambitions. Further east, England could not prevent the rise of Gandhi in India, and its colonies in Africa still would have demanded their independence within one or two generations.

A stalemate peace in late 1917 or 1918 would have left unresolved too many sources of instability to be very long lasting. But the wars that would have inevitably commenced by mid-century would have looked a lot different than the Götterdämerung of 1939-1945. While there probably would have been a Stalin, there would not have been a Hitler, at least not a German one. France might be a different story. I can easily imagine a revanchist France looking for a new Napoleon, a French version of Hitler, perhaps, complete with Jewish or North African scapegoats on whom to lay blame for the disaster of 1917. As for Italy, there may have been a Mussolini, but he may have sought a benefactor and protector in Paris instead of Berlin.

Ultimately, I think America’s entry into the World War I was a short-term benefit to democratic governance in the world. Its long-term impact, I fear, may have been at least as negative as it was positive. Without America’s direct involvement, there would have been no Versailles Treaty. Without Versailles, there would have been no Hitler. No Hitler, no Holocaust. No Hitler, no German-Japanese alliance, or at least none that would have been so brutally threatening to civilized society. No German-Japanese alliance, no Hiroshima or Nagasaki. No Cold War? No Korea or Vietnam?

I am far too jaded to suggest the world would have avoided all the horrors of the 20^th century if only America had managed to stay out of the First World War. There surely would have been enough residual hatred and resentment to bring about plenty of bloodshed within a generation or two. Still, I think the 20^th century would have developed far differently than it actually did. Would the carnage of the mid-20^th century have been as intense? What of American isolationism? Just how long could America pretend to live apart from affairs on the opposite side of the globe? I don’t know the answers to these questions. There probably isn’t much value in even asking them. But it is certainly an interesting exercise to ponder them.

I Think I'll Take the Other Bridge

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 11:03:24 -0400

My wife grew up in an old, industrial town in Northern Illinois. The Rock River forms the northern border of the town, and along its banks stretch several miles of steel mills and machine tool manufacturers. Several bridges span the river, and serve as indispensible transportation routes to the industrial facilities.

Right now, one of the bridges is undergoing repairs. The bridge is open to traffic while the work goes on. Personally, I think I'll use a different bridge next time I'm in town.

Do we really want 18-wheelers riding on this bridge?

For Black History Month: Harriet and Jeremiah

Sun, 12 Feb 2012 15:02:14 -0500

I posted this essay last year for Black History Month, and it quickly disappeared into OS oblivion. The theme of this year's Black History Month is "Black Women in America: Culture and History." Given this theme, I thought it appropriate to repost this essay. My apologies to anyone for whom this is a repeat.

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“He took me by the hand, as if I had been an old friend. He told us we were too late for the morning cars to New York, and must wait until the evening, or the next morning. He invited me to go home with him, assuring me that his wife would give me a cordial welcome.”

These are the words of a 48 year old woman named Harriet Jacobs, recalling an event that had taken place twenty years earlier. She is referring to the Reverend Jeremiah Durham, whom she had just met for the first time. In the summer of 1842, Harriet Jacobs left her home in North Carolina and arrived in Philadelphia, one of the largest cities in the United States. She was virtually penniless, owning little but the clothes on her back. Her poverty, however, was the least of her concerns. Harriet Jacobs, you see, was a slave. She was chattel. She was the property of a lecherous physician in the North Carolina tidewater, a man who had sexually abused her from the time she was 13 or 14 years old. Following years of tribulation unimaginable to 21^st century Americans, she escaped her tormenter and arrived in Philadelphia, a city awash with both Abolitionists and fugitive slave hunters.

Harriet’s escape from human bondage was assisted by numerous brave men and women, both black and white. Those who assisted her risked years in prison or worse, but they knew what their humanitarian duty was. Some who risked their lives were fellow slaves. Others were affluent abolitionists in the North. There were even a few white Southerners who, ashamed of their region’s “peculiar institution,” quietly sought to help its most helpless victims. The man who took Harriet Jacobs’ hand that night in Philadelphia and invited her to his home was none of those. Jeremiah Durham was a free African-American minister of the Bethel African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church in Philadelphia. Often called the “Mother Bethel” Church, it was possibly the first African-American church in the United States. The church has a proud history, and by the 1840’s it was playing an important part in the burgeoning abolition movement.

Mother Bethel A.M.E. Church as it appeared in the 1840's

With Philadelphia situated just a few days by horseback from the slave states of the Upper South, Mother Bethel Church became an important stop on the eastern branch of the Underground Railroad. Jeremiah Durham was an indispensible friend to men and women like Harriet Jacobs. His contribution to the liberty of Americans was no less consequential than that of many more famous Americans whose names and accomplishments appear prominently in high school textbooks.

Jeremiah Durham literally risked his own freedom, and quite possibly his life, by coming to the aid of total strangers like Harriet Jacobs. How many Harriet Jacobs’s did he meet during his tenure as minister at Mother Bethel Church? How many hungry, lonely men and women did Jeremiah Durham comfort and feed? How many terrified, hunted men and women fleeing the venality of bondage did Jeremiah Durham save from the whipping post? How many lives did Jeremiah Durham save while following the example of his savior, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me”?

I am reminded of men and women like Harriet Jacobs and Jeremiah Durham during this month America has designated as Black History Month. As a student of history, I find the stories of men and women like Harriet Jacobs and Jeremiah Durham the ones that animate what could otherwise be dry and sterile. History is much more than the recitation of great deeds by the powerful men who controlled the destiny of nations like puppet masters in a marionette show. History is the story of men and women whose names are anonymous, but whose deeds were full of consequence and meaning.

The same year that Jeremiah Durham ensured the freedom of Harriet Jacobs, John Tyler was president of the United States. Tyler’s administration is rightly recounted in high school history books. As the first man to assume the presidency on the death of his predecessor, he played an important role in defining executive power in the formative years of our government. It was during his administration that the abstract concept of “manifest destiny” took a firm hold of the nation’s consciousness. Tyler’s presence in the history books is certainly appropriate.

As consequential as John Tyler was, however, I wonder if he directly affected as many lives as Jeremiah Durham. I think not. Jeremiah Durham was an educated free American of African descent. Little is known of this man, but we can surmise that he was born into very modest means, and received an education rare for men of his background. What we know for certain, however, is that he was an active member of abolitionist circles in Philadelphia. The abolitionist Philadelphia Vigilance Committee regularly met in his home to plan financial and logistical assistance for runaway slaves. This was a dangerous undertaking, and members of the Vigilance Committee risked imprisonment and bodily harm on a daily basis.

It seems likely that Jeremiah Durham played a central role in securing the freedom of tens or hundreds of escaped slaves. It seems likely that, as a minister at Mother Bethel Church, Jeremiah Johnson would have influenced many others to follow his example. These are accomplishments worthy of the history books.

The humanitarian contributions of men like Jeremiah Durham and others like him whose names are absent from our textbooks make Black History Month a self-evident necessity. The bravery and sacrifice of women like Harriet Jacobs, another whose name is absent from every high school text I’ve ever seen, makes me, a white man, both humble and proud to be her American compatriot.

Good News and Bad News

Sun, 1 Jan 2012 17:01:41 -0500

The week before Christmas was met with both good news and bad news for me. I'll start with the good news, with a little background.

As many of my regular readers know, I lost my job just before Christmas of 2008. I had been in the telecommunications industry for nearly 26 years, mostly at a single company. I was one of the millions who were directly affected by the Great Recession. I was 50 years old, with a wife and young son, and unemployed. It's a sickening feeling, as far too many others in our country can attest.

After several months, I accepted a job in a completely different industry that I hoped might provide a refreshing change of pace and positive prospects for advancement. Unfortunately, that job just wasn't for me, and I quit after about three months. Then I did something I should have done years before: I went back to school for a year and took the necessary courses to become a certified high school social studies teacher.

I completed my student teaching a year ago, and entered the job market immediately thereafter. Of course, the spring semester is not the best time to look for a teaching job, and to no one's surprise, none was forthcoming. However, I was able to substitute frequently, so I was at least able to contribute a little to my household income.

As the spring progressed to summer, it became apparent that there was very little demand for new high school social studies teachers in Northern Illinois. I interviewed for each open position within a 30 mile radius, but nothing materialized. So many school districts were laying off teachers that the few that were hiring chose the experienced teachers who needed work, not the greenies like me.

Then came the week before Christmas. One of the openings I had interviewed for in the summer was at a local private school. When I did not get the job, the principal told me I was number two on his list. Number one was one of those experienced teachers who had recently been released from another school. It turns out, he was quite popular with his students, and was apparently a very good teacher. However, his wife was offered a very lucrative new job in a different state, and after just one semester he resigned so his wife could take advantage of her job offer. As last summer's runner up to the teaching position, the principal called me and asked if I was still interested.

Yes, I was.

Then it got weird. Five hours after accepting the offer, the principal of the school where I had been a student teacher last year called me and offered me a job there. It is a very good, suburban school, with a student body very similar to that of the private school where I had just accepted an offer. What's more, the suburban school was offering more than twice as much pay as the private school. Holy canolli!

I immediately called the private school principal and told him what had happened. I said I could not turn down the other offer when they were going to pay so much more. When I asked if there was anything he could do to sweeten the earlier offer I had accepted, he said he would discuss it with his director and get back to me the next day. Long story short: The private school increased the pay by about 70%, still less than the suburban school. However, I decided to accept the private school's revised offer. Although neither school is guaranteeing the position will be permanent after the spring semester, I feel there is better chance that the private school position can become permanent than the suburban school.

Thus, after nearly three years on very limited income, I will begin receiving a regular paycheck beginning next week. It's a teacher's income, and a beginning teacher at that, so it won't be much. Still, it will be better than the three days a week of work that I've averaged as a substitute. It's truly a good news story for me and my family.

Now the bad news. As a new teacher, I'll be creating most of my lesson plans for the first time. It's a lot of work, and it will take me away from Open Salon. I'm far too fond of this place to stay away completely. I'll check in periodically to see what my friends and favorites here are doing. I will probably even post a little bit myself, but not very much, at least not for a few months.

As we begin our new year, I am excited by the new opportunitites before me. On a macro-economic scale, I am hopeful my positive news will be repeated on a much grander scale. Maybe 2012 will be the year America finally pulls itself out of the terrible economic malaise it has had to live with for nearly four years now. Maybe Europe will get its economic act in order. Maybe India's new economic might will translate into new sales of American products and services. Perhaps China will free its currency to allow more fair competition and a better standard of living for its citizens. Maybe the promises of our last presidential election will actually become reality.

In my household, at least, there is hope.

My Favorite Christmas Movie: "Joyeux Noel"

Sat, 24 Dec 2011 13:12:56 -0500

The young Scotsman quickly peddles his bicycle down the narrow country lane toward the small community church. Once there, he rushes inside where the priest has just completed lighting the candles in preparation for vespers. The young man heads immediately to the rope dangling from the steeple and begins ringing the great bell. With exuberant voice he announces the news, “This is it! War has been declared!” Just before he goes back outside, he turns and exclaims, “At last, something’s happening in our lives!” It’s the summer of 1914, the year that forever changed the world. The young man was perhaps more prescient than he ever imagined. Yes, something would be happening in his life, and in the lives of countless young men from around the globe, but most of what would happen was of the tragic variety. It was something this young man was far too naïve to understand. The priest knows it, though, and as the young man leaves the church, the look on the priest’s face betrays his sorrow at the impending catastrophe of World War I. A gust of wind blows through the open door into the small sanctuary, immediately extinguishing the candle flames. Darkness has descended upon Europe.

It is a strange beginning for a Christmas movie, but Christmas movie it is. Its title, “Joyeux Noel”, leaves no doubt about that. The film fast forwards four and a half months. It is the Christmas season. There were already a million casualties, an astonishingly high number for such a short period of time. The exuberance of the summer had quickly morphed into a hardened disillusionment with both the war’s objectives and its leadership. Aware of the declining morale, the German high command ordered the delivery of thousands of small Christmas trees to brighten the dismally cold atmosphere of the Western trenches.

One of the German soldiers, a world-renown opera singer in a previous life, lifts one of the lit trees and begins singing “Stille Nacht” for his German comrades. From across No Man’s Land, the Scottish troops hear the hymn as well, and soon the singer is accompanied by Scottish bagpipes. With little regard for his own life, the singer climbs out of the trench and sings for the men on both sides. Once “Silent Night” is finished, the pipes launch into the opening refrain of “Adeste Fideles”. The singer gladly joins, and to the astonishment of all, the murderous intent of the previous months slowly evaporates. The famous World War I Christmas truce has begun.

It’s a well known story. All along the Western Front, a spontaneous cease fire erupted that Christmas of 1914. Stretching from the Swiss border to the North Sea, millions of soldiers discovered they had more in common with the enlisted men they had been trying to kill just a few hours before than with their commanding officers who were comfortably ensconced in their great villas miles from the front lines. “Joyeux Noel” focuses on just one small piece of that truce, following small battalions of German, French, and Scots in an unnamed locale of the front.

Before long, the priest we had seen at the opening of the film, now the chaplain of his Scotish battalion, is leading an ecumenical Christmas Eve service in No Man’s Land. Germans are sharing Christmas treats with Frenchmen, who offer bottles of wine and cognac in return. A barber offers haircuts to Scots, Germans, and French alike. When word arrives to the German commanding officer that there will soon be an artillery bombardment of French and Scottish lines, the German offers his former enemies refuge inside German trenches. The favor is returned by the French a few minutes later, just in time to avoid the inevitable counter bombardment of German lines.

Of course, the Christmas truce was only a temporary lull in the bloody apocalypse of the Great War. When the high command on each side learned of the ceasefire, they quickly disbanded and reorganized their regiments so those who had fraternized would be separated. In future years, vicious bombardments were scheduled on Christmas to prevent even the opportunity of fraternization. The Christmas truce would not be repeated.

Joyeux Noel is obviously a war film. But it is much more than that. It is a film that highlights the universal message of Christmas. It is a film that boldly illustrates what can happen when men do God’s bidding rather than follow the orders of flawed and corrupt men. When he is being chastised for his role in the ceasefire, the Scottish priest replies, “I truly believe our Lord Jesus Christ guided me in what was the most important mass of my life. I tried to be true to His trust, to carry His message to all, whoever they may be.”

Ultimately, isn’t that the real meaning of Christmas?