Fascism
Comes to America
The Early Years
by
Ralph Raico
by Ralph Raico
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The
figure of Franklin Roosevelt looms ever more imposing in the minds
of Americans. In the two centuries or so of our history, it has
happened that a few of our leaders a very few became
symbols of some powerful idea, one that left a permanent imprint
on the life of our country. Thomas Jefferson is one such symbol.
With Jefferson, it is the idea of a free, self-governing people,
dedicated to the enjoyment of their God-given natural rights, in
their work, their communities, and the bosom of their families.
Abraham Lincoln symbolizes a rather different idea of America
as a great centralized nation-state, supposedly dedicated to individual
freedom, but founded on the unquestioned authority and power of
the national government in Washington.
And now Franklin
Roosevelt, too, has come to represent a certain conception of America,
one that is worlds apart from Jefferson's vision, and different
from anything that even Lincoln could have imagined. Roosevelt stands
for the national government as we know it today, a vast, unfathomable
bureaucratic apparatus that recognizes no limits whatsoever to its
power, either at home or abroad. Internationally, it gives every
evidence of intending to run the whole world, of extending its hegemony
now that the Soviet Union is no more to every corner
of the globe. Domestically, it undertakes, through an annual budget
of close to $2 trillion, to assuage every real or invented social
ill and thus enters into every aspect of the people's lives. In
particular, it is engaged in what even a couple of decades ago would
have seemed fantastic a campaign to annihilate freedom of
association, subjecting the American people to a program of radical
social engineering, in order to transform their voluntarily held
traditional beliefs and values and way of life.
More than anyone
else, Franklin Roosevelt is responsible for creating the Leviathan
State that confronts us today.
In his own
time, FDR had many influential enemies in business, politics, and
the press, men and women who recognized what he was doing to the
Republic they loved and who fought him tenaciously. They were proud
to be known as "Roosevelt-haters." Today, however, practically
the whole of the political class in the United States has been converted
into idolaters of Franklin Roosevelt.
This state
of affairs was epitomized last May, when the Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Memorial was dedicated in Washington, D.C. Situated on a 7.5-acre
site by the Tidal Basin, it includes an 800-foot wall, six waterfalls,
outdoor galleries, and nine sculptures. Congress voted $42.5 million
to fund the memorial, Republicans (those wild revolutionaries) joining
Democrats with equal enthusiasm. No one breathed a word about Roosevelt's
failure to end the Depression, his lying us into war, his warm friendship
with Joseph Stalin, and similar milestones in his long career
the major controversy was over whether or not he should be shown
with his signature jaunty cigarette-holder. (In deference to the
forces of political correctness, he wasn't.)
Most revealing
was that self-styled conservative organs such as National Review
and the American Spectator joined in the hosannas. It is a sign
of how far things have moved that abject adulation of Franklin Roosevelt
is now the order of the day even at the Wall Street Journal. The
Journal has long been supposed to be the voice of American business,
a quality paper that stood for the market economy and limited government,
and so was the counterpart to the New York Times in the American
press. On the occasion of the dedication of the FDR memorial, the
Journal expressed its opinion through an article by one of its editors,
a certain Dorothy Rabinowitz (who used to review movies). Rabinowitz
was outraged that Ed Crane, president of the Cato Institute, had
dared to refer to her hero as "a lousy president." No,
she insisted, Roosevelt was a great one. Why? Well, because of "the
depth of his hold on minds and hearts," because in the midst
of the Depression he gave the people hope, because he stood firm
against Hitler, because when he died even Radio Tokyo called him
a "great man." Roosevelt's many enemies, in his time and
even now, never had any good reason to condemn this man who changed
America so radically; they were merely "maddened by hatred
of him." In all of Rabinowitz's effusion there were no hard
facts, no analysis, no argument (and certainly no mention of FDR's
great friend Joseph Stalin a lot more about this later).
It was all sentimental gush. And so the Wall Street Journal enters
the age of Oprah Winfrey journalism.
Such productions
by FDR's devotees are by no means mere exercises in historical myth-making.
They perform a vital political function for the anti-freedom forces
in contemporary America. Simply put: the glorification of Franklin
Roosevelt means the validation of the Leviathan State. Thus it is
of great importance to those on the freedom side to understand who
this man really was, what he really stood for, and what, as a matter
of historical truth, he inflicted on the American Republic.
Franklin Roosevelt
was born in 1882, in the family mansion overlooking the Hudson River,
on the 1300-acre estate that came to be known as Hyde Park. On his
father, James's, side, Franklin could trace his ancestry back to
the middle of the 17th century, when a forebear immigrated from
Holland to what was then New Amsterdam. Part of the family settled
in Oyster Bay, Long Island, eventually producing Franklin's distant
cousin, Theodore. The Hudson Valley Roosevelts tended to marry well,
mainly into affluent families of English descent by the time
Franklin came on the scene he was, despite his name, of nearly purely
English heritage. His mother, Sara, was from an equally prominent
family, the Delanos. Franklin was his doting parents' only child.
While by no means fabulously rich, the family was of the sort that
mingled freely with the Astors and the Vanderbilts and the rest
of the high society of nearby New York City.
Until the age
of 14, Franklin was tutored at home. Not at all a bookish boy, he
loved nature and, above all, boating on the Hudson and at the family
summer home in Campobello, Maine. He developed a passion for stamp-collecting,
which he pursued all his life. His admirers later claimed that this
hobby gave him great insight into the geography, resources, and
character of all the world's nations more pro-Roosevelt blather.
He often visited New York and toured Europe every year with his
parents. The inevitable word to describe the Roosevelts and their
lifestyle is patrician.
Franklin's
prep school was Groton, near New London, Massachusetts, as close
to an English "public" (i.e., private) school as one could
get on this side of the Atlantic. The whole ethos of the place was
"Old English," an attempt to copy the educational experience
of schools such as Eton and Harrow, whose job it was to shape the
future ruling class of the great world empire. At Groton, Franklin
lived and studied among the progeny of his own class, those who
felt themselves to be the fated future leaders of American business,
education, religion, and, above all, politics. Ironically, a fellow
Grotonian in Franklin's day was the young Robert McCormick, whose
father owned the Chicago Tribune ironically, because
Colonel McCormick, as he was known in later life (after his service
in the First World War), went on to become the greatest and best-known
"Roosevelt-hater" of them all.
Franklin was
a mediocre student at Groton in every respect. His top grades were
no better than B, he did not stand out in debating or sports, nor
was he particularly popular with the other boys. In 1900, he went
on to Harvard, where he showed as little interest in studies or
ideas as he had at prep school. Franklin coasted through college
with the traditional "gentleman's C" average that was
perfectly acceptable in the sons of the elite at that time. His
social life, however, improved dramatically. Franklin was already
beginning to display the affability and charm that so bedazzled
politicians and the press in the years ahead. Of course, his popularity
was helped along by his family name. Cousin Theodore had been elected
vice president, and then, in 1901, through the assassination of
William McKinley, had become president of the United States.
It was only
natural that Franklin, already toying with the idea of a career
in politics, should pay close attention to the doings of his presidential
relation. Theodore was the first president in the distinctively
modern mold: he had a sense of drama and timing and a natural grasp
of how to exploit the press to create a persona for himself in the
eyes of the people. Beyond that, TR, as he was commonly known, had
a rare ability to make personal use of popular causes and resentments.
It was the age of "progressivism," a vague term, but one
that connoted a new readiness to use the power of government for
all sorts of grand things. H.L. Mencken, the great libertarian journalist
and close observer and critic of presidents, compared him to the
German kaiser, Wilhelm II, and shrewdly summed him up: "The
America that [Theodore] Roosevelt dreamed of was always a sort of
swollen Prussia, truculent without and regimented within."
Particularly
fascinating to Franklin must have been the way TR was able to turn
his patrician background to his advantage. After all, in the past,
the Americans had shown themselves wary of upper-class leaders,
who were suspected of being insufficiently "democratic"
and not in tune with the people. What TR did brilliantly was to
introduce caesarism into American politics. This term refers to
the political strategy adopted by Julius Caesar to gain power. Although
himself from a wealthy and high-born family, Caesar castigated his
fellow patricians and appealed instead to the lower classes for
support. They, in turn, loved the favors they received from on high,
and, perhaps even more, the sight of Caesar trouncing and humbling
his fellow blue bloods. Julius Caesar was thus one of history's
great demagogues; and ever since his time the tactic of a politician
from society's elite pandering to the "have-nots" against
the upper classes has been known by his name. In fabricating his
persona as the great "trustbuster," Theodore Roosevelt's
form of American caesarism proved wildly successful.
While Franklin
was learning from his cousin's political stratagems, he also entered
into a closer personal relationship with the Oyster Bay branch of
the family. Looking around for a bride, he had become acquainted
with the daughter of one of TR's younger brothers, and after a whirlwind
courtship won her hand. In 1905, in a suitably elaborate ceremony,
Theodore Roosevelt gave away his niece, Anna Eleanor Roosevelt,
to Franklin in marriage. Eleanor proved herself to be an astonishing
phenomenon and deserves our close scrutiny in her own right.
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of Contents
Ralph
Raico [send him mail]
is
a senior fellow of the Mises Institute. You can study the history
of civilization under his guidance here: MP3-CD
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