It is a cliché
of publishing to observe, when a book appears before the public
years after it was first written, that it is more relevant now than
ever. But it is difficult to think of how else The Betrayal of
the American Right can be described. Murray N. Rothbard chronicles
the emergence of an American right wing that gave lip service to
free-market principles and "limited government," but whose
first priority, for which it was willing to sacrifice anything else,
was military interventionism around the world. That sounds familiar,
to be sure, but as Rothbard shows, it is neither recent nor anomalous.
It goes back to the very beginnings of the organized conservative
movement in the 1950s.
book is likely to reach beyond Rothbard's traditional audience,
an initial word about the author is in order. Murray N. Rothbard
was a scholar and polymath of such extraordinary productivity as
almost to defy belief. His Man, Economy, and State, a 1,000-page
treatise on economic principles, was one of the great contributions
to the so-called Austrian School of economics. For a New Liberty
became the standard libertarian manifesto. In The Ethics
of Liberty Rothbard set out the philosophical implications of
the idea of self-ownership. He told the story of colonial America
in his four-volume Conceived in Liberty. His America's
Great Depression, now in a fifth edition, used the explanatory
power of the Austrian theory of the business cycle to show that
monetary interventionism, rather than "capitalism," was
to blame for that catastrophe. He also wrote a great many groundbreaking
articles. To name just two: "Toward a Reconstruction of Utility
and Welfare Economics" laid out a distinctly Austrian approach
to the contentious area of welfare economics, and "Law, Property
Rights, and Air Pollution" may be the best brief Austrian contribution
to the study of law and economics. In addition to his 25 books and
three thousand articles, which spanned several disciplines, Rothbard
also taught economics, edited two academic journals and several
popular periodicals, wrote movie reviews, and carried on a mountain
of correspondence with a diverse array of American intellectuals.
Even this overview
of Rothbard's work cannot do justice to his legendary productivity.
But we learn a great deal about Murray N. Rothbard from a simple
fact: more Rothbard books have appeared since his death than most
college professors publish in a lifetime. Two volumes of An Austrian
Perspective on the History of Economic Thought, which Rothbard
had been working on at the time of his death, were released in 1995.
The Logic of Action (1997) consisted of a thousand pages
of Rothbard's scholarly articles, now conveniently available for
the general public. A History of Money and Banking in the United
States (2002) brought together much of Rothbard's important
work in monetary history, much of which had previously been available
only in scholarly journals or as chapters in books long out of print.
It may as well have been a brand new Rothbard book.
It wasn't only
Rothbard's scholarly work that was assembled into handsome volumes
and made available for general consumption; his popular writing
began to appear in new collections as well. Making Economic Sense
(1995) collected a hundred of Roth-bard's shorter economic articles
in a book that can instruct and entertain beginner and specialist
alike. A 20,000-word article Rothbard had written for a small-circulation
investment newsletter became the 1995 Center for Libertarian Studies
monograph Wall Street, Banks, and American Foreign Policy.
The Irrepressible Rothbard (2000) assembled some of Rothbard's
contributions to the Rothbard-Rockwell Report of the 1990s,
where we encounter the master at his funniest and, at times, his
book, however, consists of material being made available to the
public for the very first time. The manuscript was written in the
1970s, as Rothbard points out in the Preface, and went through periodic
edits and additions over the years as publication opportunities
arose. Each time, though, unforeseen circumstances interfered with
the book's release, and so it is finally appearing only now, under
the Mises Institute's imprint.
To be sure,
Rothbard had written published articles on the Old Right: in the
Journal of Libertarian Studies, Continuum, and the
Rothbard-Rockwell Report, among other venues. But here he
tells the full story, from the point of view of someone who was
not only a witness to these events but also an important participant.
What was this
Old Right, anyway? Rothbard describes it as a diverse band of opponents
of the New Deal at home and interventionism abroad. More a loose
coalition than a self-conscious "movement," the Old Right
drew inspiration from the likes of H.L. Mencken and Albert Jay Nock,
and featured such writers, thinkers, and journalists as Isabel Paterson,
Rose Wilder Lane, John T. Flynn, Garet Garrett, Felix Morley, and
the Chicago Tribune's Colonel Robert McCormick. They did
not describe or think of themselves as conservatives: they wanted
to repeal and overthrow, not conserve.
A 1992 Rothbard
retrospective on the Old Right drew out its principles:
If we know
what the Old Right was against, what were they for? In
general terms, they were for a restoration of the liberty of the
Old Republic, of a government strictly limited to the defense
of the rights of private property. In the concrete, as in the
case of any broad coalition, there were differences of opinion
within this overall framework. But we can boil down those differences
to this question: how much of existing government would you repeal?
How far would you roll government back?
demand which almost all Old Rightists agreed on, which virtually
defined the Old Right, was total abolition of the New Deal, the
whole kit and kaboodle of the welfare state, the Wagner Act, the
Social Security Act, going off gold in 1933, and all the rest.
Beyond that, there were charming disagreements. Some would stop
at repealing the New Deal. Others would press on, to abolition
of Woodrow Wilson's New Freedom, including the Federal Reserve
System and especially that mighty instrument of tyranny, the income
tax and the Internal Revenue Service. Still others, extremists
such as myself, would not stop until we repealed the Federal Judiciary
Act of 1789, and maybe even think the unthinkable and restore
the good old Articles of Confederation.1
to being a history of the Old Right, this book is the closest thing
to an autobiography of this extraordinary man that readers can expect
to see. It is not just a history of the Old Right, or of the anti-interventionist
tradition in America. It is the story – at least in part –
of Rothbard's own political and intellectual development: the books
he read, the people he met, the friends he made, the organizations
he joined, and so much more.
discussion of his intellectual evolution begins with his days as
a young boy and carries through his time in Ludwig von Mises's New
York seminar (from which so many important libertarian thinkers
would emerge), his early writing career and his libertarian activism,
all the way through his interaction with the New Left in the 1960s.
We accompany Rothbard during the moment when he discovers he can
no longer be a minimal-state libertarian, or minarchist, and we
learn exactly what it was that led him into anarchism. He discusses
his derivation (on the basis of the nonaggression principle) of
peace and nonintervention as libertarian principles, his evolving
political allegiances in the 1950s in light of his resolute noninterventionism,
and his attraction to the forbidden subject of Cold War revisionism.
Still, we cannot
overlook or underestimate the importance of this book as a work
of history. Rothbard fills a crucial gap both in the history of
American foreign policy as well as in the histories of American
conservatism and libertarianism. In fact, we can go even further:
The Betrayal of the American Right is an important missing
chapter in the received story of America. Important if long-forgotten
thinkers, writers, and activists spring to life once again in these
pages. Any number of topics for research papers and even full-length
books might be gleaned from the issues Rothbard raises here.
It is safe
to say that very few Americans, conservatives included – indeed,
especially conservatives – know that some of the most
consistent and outspoken opponents of Harry Truman's early Cold
War measures were budget-conscious Republicans, ideologically averse
to international crusades. Senator Robert A. Taft, for instance,
was the most prominent if perhaps the least consistent of the Republican
noninterventionists who greeted Harry Truman's early Cold War policies
with skepticism. Taft was critical of the Truman Doctrine, the Marshall
Plan, and NATO, each of which he viewed as either unnecessarily
provocative or ruinously expensive. Taft, along with lesser-known
figures from the House and Senate like George Bender, Howard Buffett,
and Kenneth Wherry, constituted the political arm of the Old Right.
the erroneous impression of left-liberalism as antiwar and peace-loving,
voices of mainstream liberalism adopted the standard interventionist
line against the "isolationist" heretic: Taft, wrote the
prominent liberal columnist Richard Rovere, was an unsuitable presidential
candidate in 1948 since the next president "should be an executive
of the human race . . . who will boldly champion freedom before
the world and for the world . . . [which] Taft simply could not
do." Likewise, The Nation called Taft and his allies
in Congress "super-appeasers" whose policies "should
set the bells ringing in the Kremlin."2
for his efforts Rothbard was himself red-baited from time to time
by people on the Right. That his anti-Communist credentials were
as bulletproof as one could ask for hardly seemed to matter: he
opposed the global anti-Communist crusade, and that was what counted.
Ironically, it was precisely Rothbard's contempt for Communism
that persuaded him that an ongoing military campaign against it,
one that would surely have terrible short- and long-term consequences
for American society and government (not to mention the mischief
it could cause abroad), was actually unnecessary: Ludwig von Mises
had already shown the insuperable obstacles that confronted truly
socialist economies; and the Soviet Union's acquisition of a string
of satellites each of which was an economic basket case in need
of subsidy did not seem like an especially menacing imperial strategy.
Old Right members
of Congress like Howard Buffett argued, to the cheers of Rothbard,
that the cause of freedom in the world was to be advanced by the
force of American example rather than by the force of arms, and
that American interventionism would play into the hands of Soviet
propaganda that portrayed the U.S. as a self-interested imperialist
rather than a disinterested advocate for mankind. Here was the traditional
libertarian position, drawn from the great statesmen of the nineteenth
century, the era of classical liberalism. Thus Richard Cobden, the
great British classical liberal, had once said:
by calmly directing her undivided energies to the purifying of
her own internal institutions, to the emancipation of her commerce
. . . would, by thus serving as it were for the beacon of other
nations, aid more effectually the cause of political progression
all over the continent than she could possibly do by plunging
herself into the strife of European wars.3
Clay, not himself a classical liberal, nevertheless summed up the
practically unanimous opinion of mid-nineteenthcentury America:
By the policy
to which we have adhered since the days of Washington . . . we
have done more for the cause of liberty than arms could effect;
we have shown to other nations the way to greatness and happiness.
. . . Far better is it for ourselves, for Hungary, and the cause
of liberty, that, adhering to our pacific system and avoiding
the distant wars of Europe, we should keep our lamp burning brightly
on this western shore, as a light to all nations, than to hazard
its utter extinction amid the ruins of fallen and falling republics
This was the
principle in which Rothbard continued to believe.
What we laughingly
call the "conservative movement" today has little incentive
to remind people of the skeptics of interventionism to be found
among conservative Republicans in the Truman years. In these pages
Rothbard makes a compelling case that the Right's embrace of global
interventionism was not inevitable, but was instead the result of
contingent factors: the deaths of key representatives of the Old
Right at particularly inauspicious moments, the organizational skill
of the opposition, and internal difficulties within Old Right institutions.
But it isn't
just modern conservatism that is at fault for the disappearance
of the Old Right down the Orwellian memory hole. Libertarians, too,
must in some cases share the blame. In the late 1970s, Rothbard
was personally responsible for inserting the noninterventionist
plank into the Libertarian Party platform – at a time when,
to his amazement, foreign policy seemed to arouse relatively little
interest among libertarians. The 2003 Iraq war was justified on
the basis of propaganda worthy of the old Pravda; that people
calling themselves libertarians – who, after all, are supposed
to have an eye for government propaganda – swallowed the government's
case whole suggests that the problem has not altogether disappeared.
(One can only imagine what Mencken, one of Rothbard's heroes, would
have had to say about that war, its architects, and an American
population that continued to believe the discredited weapons of
mass destruction [WMD] claims long after everyone, on all sides,
had agreed the charges were false.)
cooperation with the New Left in the 1960s has aroused much interest
and some criticism. With the noninterventionist Right essentially
routed and no institutional or publishing arm interested in noninterventionism
and laissez-faire, Rothbard began to look elsewhere for allies
in the fight against war, which he was coming to view as the most
fundamental issue of all. ("I am getting more and more convinced
that the war-peace question is the key to the whole libertarian
business," Rothbard had noted privately in 1956.5)
Mainstream liberalism was, naturally, out of the question, since
it had long since adopted the main contours of Cold War interventionism;
it was liberals, as we have seen, who condemned the conservative
Taft for his skepticism of foreign intervention. At this moment
of intellectual isolation, Rothbard looked with interest and sympathy
upon the emergence of the New Left and the libertarian instincts
he found there – particularly its interest in decentralization
and free speech – that he hoped could be nurtured.
to appreciate the work of New Left historian William Appleman Williams,
and befriended a number of his students (including Ronald Radosh,
with whom Rothbard later edited A New History of Leviathan,
an important collection of essays on the corporate state). In Williams
himself Rothbard found not only congenial foreign-policy analysis,
but also important hints of opposition to the central state in domestic
affairs. "The core radical ideals and values of community,
equality, democracy, and humaneness," Rothbard quoted Williams
in the future be realized and sustained – nor should they
be sought – through more centralization and consolidation.
These radical values can most nearly be realized through decentralization
and through the creation of many truly human communities. If one
feels the need to go ancestor-diving in the American past and
spear a tradition that is relevant to our contemporary predicament,
then the prize trophy is the Articles of Confederation.6
isolated and perhaps discouraged, there are still some voices on
the Left today that bring to mind what Rothbard sought to cultivate
in the New Left. Kirkpatrick Sale's words from 2006 may as well
be a postscript to those of William Appleman Williams on the Articles
I am convinced,
believe it or not, that secession – by state where the state
is cohesive (the model is Vermont, where the secessionist movement
is the Second Vermont Republic), or by region where that makes
more sense (Southern California or Cascadia are the models here)
– is the most fruitful objective for our political future.
Peaceful, orderly, popular, democratic, and legal secession would
enable a wide variety of governments, amenable to all shades of
the anti-authoritarian spectrum, to be established within a modern
political context. Such a wide variety, as I see it, that if you
didn't like the place you were, you could always find a place
For a time,
Rothbard's optimism about the alliance was reciprocated. "In
a strong sense, the Old Right and the New Left are morally and politically
coordinate," wrote Carl Oglesby of Students for a Democratic
Society (SDS) in 1967.8 What went wrong – the collapse
of SDS and Rothbard's break with the whole movement – is the
subject of the final chapter of this book.
Here we encounter
still another endearing aspect of The Betrayal of the American
Right: Rothbard's willingness to acknowledge mistakes, or cases
when things took unfortunate turns that he did not anticipate –
rarities in the memoir genre. "Looking back over the experiment
of alliance with the New Left," Rothbard recalled,
it also became
clear that the result had in many cases been disastrous for libertarians;
for, isolated and scattered as these young libertarians were,
the Clarks and the Milchmans and some of the Glaser-Kansas group
were soon to become leftists in fact, and in particular
to abandon the very devotion to individualism, private property
rights, and the free-market economy that had brought them to libertarianism,
and then to the New Left alliance, in the first place.9
a cadre with
no organization and with no continuing program of "internal
education" and reinforcement is bound to defect and melt
away in the course of working with far stronger allies.10
has long since been built, of course, thanks in large part to Rothbard's
In the Introduction,
Rothbard speaks of a final chapter of the manuscript that brought
the narrative up through the end of the Cold War and the intellectual
and strategic realignments that that happy occasion made possible.
That chapter, unfortunately, has not been found, and thus the story
Rothbard tells here must to some degree remain incomplete. With
the reappearance of a noninterventionist Right following the end
of the Cold War, Roth-bard's rhetoric at the time reflected an unmistakable
sense of returning home. With old battle lines withering away, more
opportunities than ever had begun to open up for cross-ideological
cooperation among opponents of war. Questions that had not been
asked in some intellectual quarters in decades – about the
proper U.S. role in the world and the moral and material dangers
of foreign intervention – were once again being heard, and
some of the most withering attacks on U.S. foreign policy were coming
from old-fashioned conservatives. "The Old Right is suddenly
back!" a delighted Rothbard declared in 1992.
of this collaboration ultimately proved disappointing, though Rothbard
forged some valuable and cherished friendships with a good many
people who continue to admire and learn from him to this day. Today,
formal alliances of this sort, while still strategically useful,
seem much less important than they were even 15 years ago. When
there is only a handful of publications and platforms sympathetic
to libertarian ideas, there is a natural desire to want to forge
an express alliance between libertarians and those outlets. But
in the age of the Internet, when the number of outlets in which
one can publish (and reach a great many people) is so high, and
in which each person can have his own website and blog, libertarians
can have very loud voices without erecting any formal alliance with
some other group.
In a way, it
may be fortuitous that The Betrayal of the American Right is
appearing only now rather than 20 years ago. The folly of the Iraq
war and the propaganda campaign that launched it are making even
people heretofore settled in their views stop and think. Listening
to Bush administration propaganda, they can't help but wonder if
that is what they themselves sounded like during the Cold War. And
even if they do not share Rothbard's analysis of the Cold War, plenty
of people today, anticipating with dread the endless U.S. wars that
the future appears to portend, may be willing to consider at least
one important argument against Cold War interventionism: it nurtured
a military-industrial complex, born in World War II, that is evidently
incapable of ever being dismantled. Milton Friedman's dictum that
there is nothing so permanent as a "temporary" government
program has found no more striking vindication than in the American
"defense" sector, which always seems to find a rationale
for higher spending and more intervention.
In short, more
people than ever are skeptical of the official government version
of just about anything, and are open to revisiting old questions.
As usual, Rothbard is prepared to ask those questions, and to follow
the answers wherever they lead him.
E. Woods, Jr. Auburn, Alabama May 2007
- Murray N.
Rothbard, "A Strategy for the Right," in The Irrepressible
Rothbard, Llewellyn H. Rockwell, Jr., ed. (Burlingame, Calif.:
Center for Libertarian Studies, 2000), p. 4.
- John Moser,
"Principles Without Program: Senator Robert A. Taft and American
Foreign Policy," Ohio History 108 (1999): 177–92.
Cobden, "Commerce is the Great Panacea," in The Political
Writings of Richard Cobden, F.W. Chesson, ed. (London: T.
Fisher Unwin, 1903), vol. 1, p. 35.
- Ralph Raico,
"American Foreign Policy – The Turning Point, 1898–1919,"
in The Failure of America’s Foreign Wars, Richard M. Ebeling
and Jacob G. Hornberger, eds. (Fairfax, Va.: Future of Freedom
Foundation, 1996), pp. 55–56
- John Payne,
"Rothbard's Time on the Left," Journal of Libertarian
Studies 19 (Winter, 2005): 9.
- Ibid., p.
Sale, roundtable contribution, The American Conservative (August
28, 2006): 28.
- Carl Oglesby
and Richard Shaull, Containment and Change (New York: Macmillan,
1967), pp. 166–67.
- See pages
223–24 in this volume.
- Ibid., p.
TO THE 1991 REVISION
of the greater part of this book, The Betrayal of the American
Right, was written in 1971 and revised in 1973. Little of this
original manuscript has been changed here. In a profound sense,
it is more timely today than when it was first written. The book
was a cry in the wilderness against what I saw as the betrayal of
what I here call the "Old Right." Or, to allay confusion
about various "olds" and "news," we call it
the Original Right. The Old Right arose during the 1930s as a reaction
against the Great Leap Forward (or Backward) into collectivism that
characterized the New Deal. That Old Right continued and flourished
through the 1940s and down to about the mid-1950s. The Old Right
was staunchly opposed to Big Government and the New Deal at home
and abroad: that is, to both facets of the welfare-warfare state.
It combated U.S. intervention in foreign affairs and foreign wars
as fervently as it opposed intervention at home.
At the present
time, many conservatives have come to realize that the old feisty,
antigovernment spirit of conservatives has been abraded and somehow
been transformed into its statist opposite. It is tempting, and,
so far as it goes, certainly correct, to put the blame on the Right's
embrace in the 1970s of Truman-Humphrey Cold War liberals calling
themselves "neoconservatives," and to allow these ex-Trotskyites
and ex-Mensheviks not only into the tent but also to take over the
show. But the thesis of the book is that those who wonder what happened
to the good old cause must not stop with the neocons: that the rot
started long before, with the founding in 1955 of National Review
and its rapid rise to dominance of the conservative movement.
It was National Review that, consciously and cleverly, transformed
the content of the Old Right into something very like its opposite,
while preserving the old forms and rituals, such as lip service
to the free market and to the Constitution of the United States.
It was, as the great Garet Garrett said about the New Deal in the
American polity, a "revolution within the form." As this
book points out, the Right happened to be vulnerable to takeover
at this time, its old leaders recently dead or retired. While younger,
or yuppie, conservatives may puzzle at this statement, the good
old days of the Old Right in politics were not the Goldwater campaign
but the campaign of Robert A. Taft.
This book discusses
the Old Right, details the National Review takeover, and
treats the odyssey of myself and like-minded libertarians out of
our formerly honored position as the "extreme" wing of
the Old Right, breaking with National Review conservatism,
and anxious to find a home for libertarian ideas and activities.
The book was written after the end of our alliance with the New
Left, which had begun promisingly in the early and mid-1960s but
had ended in the mad if short-lived orgy of violence and destruction
at the end of the decade. The manuscript ends with the beginning
of the emergence of the libertarian movement as a separate, self-conscious
ideological and even political entity in the United States, aiming
to be a separate or Third Force in America drawing from the congenial
elements of both Left and Right.
The final section,
chapter 14, written at the present time, fills in the history of
the libertarian movement and of the right in the last two decades,
and explains how brand new circumstances, notably the astounding
death of the Cold War, combined with the collapse of the conservative
movement and changes among libertarians, present new challenges
and fruitful alliances for libertarians.1
for this manuscript came from Bob Kephart, then publisher of the
Libertarian Review, who planned to publish books under the
imprint of the Libertarian Review Press. This press did publish
a collection of my essays around that time.2 Ramparts
Press put a blurb for the publication of this book into its 1971
catalog, but they wanted extensive changes which I refused to make.3
I had tried, ever since the early 1960s, to get my story of
the betrayal of the Old Right into print, but there were no periodicals
open to this message. Particularly incensed at the Goldwater campaign
of 1964, the first campaign dominated by the National Review
Right, I could only air my views, very briefly, in the only
extant libertarian periodical, the Los Angeles newsletter The
Innovator; searching for an outlet for a longer piece, I could
find only the obscure peace-Catholic quarterly Continuum.4
my political views were largely aired in my own periodicals: Left
and Right, 1965–1968, edited by Leonard Liggio and myself, a
vehicle for alliance with the New Left; the weekly and then monthly
Libertarian Forum, 1969–1984, an expression of a self-conscious
libertarian movement; and, for more scholarly articles, the Journal
of Libertarian Studies, founded in 1977 as a publishing arm
of the Center for Libertarian Studies and still continuing. Part
of the analysis in the present manuscript appeared as my "The
Foreign Policy of the Old Right."5
At about the
same time the Betrayal was written, there also appeared a
master's essay along similar lines by the young libertarian historian
Joseph R. Stromberg.6 Of the scholarly work done since,
one of the most valuable on the Old Right is the study of Frank
Chodorov by Charles Hamilton.7 Also particularly valuable
is Justus Doenecke's study of the response of World War II isolationists
to the emergence of the Cold War, down to 1954, and Felix Morley's
autobiography, particularly the last two chapters on his experience
with Human Events.8,9
Since the 1970s,
The Betrayal of the American Right has remained dormant,
although copies, some barely legible, have been circulating in samizdat
among young libertarian scholars.
dramatic collapse of Communism and the Cold War in 1989, and the
subsequent rethinking among both conservatives and libertarians,
has recently aroused interest in the Betrayal. Study into
the Old Right by Tom Fleming, editor of Chronicles, led me
to dig out the manuscript, and the enthusiastic suggestion of Justin
Raimondo, editor of the Libertarian Republican, inspired
me to update the Betrayal and led directly to the present
publication. As always, I am deeply grateful to Burt Blumert and
to Lew Rockwell for their enthusiasm and help over the years, and
with this publication.
Murray N. Rothbard,
Las Vegas, 1991
- Such a chapter
has not been found in Rothbard's papers. – Ed.
N. Rothbard, Egalitarianism as a Revolt Against Nature and
Other Essays (Washington, D.C.: Libertarian Review Press,
- I had published
my view of the Old Right and its fall in Ramparts, then
the leading New Left periodical. Murray N. Rothbard, "Confessions
of a Right-Wing Liberal," Ramparts 6, no. 11 (June
15, 1968): 48–52.
N. Rothbard, "The Transformation of the American Right,"
Continuum 2 (Summer, 1964): 22–31.
of Libertarian Studies 2 (Winter, 1978): 85–96. The original
version of this article was a paper delivered at a session on
the Right at the 1972 annual meeting of the Organization of American
Historians, a session organized by the brilliant Marxist historian
Eugene D. Genovese.
- Joseph R.
Stromberg, "The Cold War and the Transformation of the American
Right: The Decline of Right-Wing Liberalism" (M.A. essay,
Florida Atlantic University, 1971).
H. Hamilton, "Introduction," in Fugitive Writings:
Selected Writings of Frank Chodorov, Hamilton, ed. (Indianapolis,
Ind.: Liberty Press, 1980), pp. 11–30.
- Justus D.
Doenecke, Not to the Swift: The Old Isolationists in the Cold
War Era (Lewisburg, Penn.: Bucknell University Press, 1979).
Also see Ronald Radosh, Prophets on the Right: Profiles of
Conservative Critics of American Globalism (New York: Simon
and Schuster, 1975).
- An especially
valuable study done before the writing of the Betrayal is
a doctoral dissertation on the 1950s libertarian movement by Eckard
Vance Toy, Jr., even though it is almost exclusively based on
the fortunately extensive papers and correspondence of Seattle
industrialist James W. Clise. Toy is particularly good on the
Foundation for Economic Education (FEE) and Spiritual Mobilization,
although he neglects the William Volker Fund and does not concern
himself with foreign policy. Eckard Vance Toy, Jr., "Ideology
and Conflict in American Ultra-Conservatism, 1945–1960" (Ph.D.
diss., University of Oregon, 1965).
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Mr. and Mrs. Joseph P. Schirrick, Conrad Schneiker, Mr. Jeff Schwartz
and Dr. Jeanne Schwartz, Andrew Sirkis, Henri Etel Skinner, Andrew
J. Slain, Jim and Mary Smith, William V. Stephens, Mr. and Mrs.
David S. Swain, Jr., Kenneth S. Templeton, Mr. and Mrs. Reginald
Thatcher, Lawrence Van Someren, Sr., Mr. and Mrs. Quinten E. Ward,
David Westrate, Brian J. Wilton