King's Survey: Pitchforks and Bagels

In which we wonder whether strange bedfellows can make a new kind of politics

Kids, I’m hoping you remember a conversation we had the other day when I compared the coming of industrial capitalism to a wind that blew across the national landscape.

—How could we forget such a poetic metaphor, Mr. K.?

—I don’t think it was a metaphor, Em. I think it was an analogy.

—Oh Sadie you’re right.

—Nope. You’re both wrong. It was simile: industrialization is like the weather.

I’m impressed, Ethan.

—We just did this in English last week.

Well, bravo. To repeat: industrial capitalism was like the weather. Everybody felt it, but reacted differently depending on who they were, or where they were. Some regarded this new meteorological front sweeping across the landscape as a gentle breeze; others felt it like a chill. And people responded to the wind in different ways. All those workers who went on strike: they were responding to that weather. Racists who used lynching and Jim Crow laws to keep African Americans in their place—many white Southerners were obsessed by this notion of place—tried to prevent this labor force from blowing away.

And then there were the farmers.

—You know, we haven’t talked much about farmers in this class.

It’s true, and it’s a real defect of this course, reflecting the limits of my vision. Nowadays, farmers are only about two percent of the U.S. population, and as such are invisible to a great many of us. But until 1920, more Americans lived on farms than in cities, which is to say that in a meaningful sense U.S. history is really rural history. In any event, the wind sweeping across the nation is affecting these people just like everybody else. Some, of course, are being pushed off the farm entirely. But the ones who stay behind are being affected in powerful and complex ways. Railroads make it possible to move their crops over long distances, but put them at the mercy of rapacious railroad companies. Fancy new technology raises their yields, but such equipment is expensive and the farmers end up borrowing money that’s hard to pay back, especially when prices are dropping (in part because a surge in supply is making food less valuable).

You recent homework has been talking about the ways farmers have started to organize in the last decades of the nineteenth century: the Grange, a series of cultural and social centers that spring up around the South and West; the Southern Alliance, which helps forms cooperatives—

—I didn’t quite get how those work.

Sort of like massive Sam’s Clubs or Costcos for farmers, Jonah. They allowed them to buy in bulk and store surplus crops cheaply.

—Cool.

In 1892, these various efforts coalesce in into the formation of the Populist Party. The Populists have lots of ideas about how to fix what’s wrong with the country: a graduated income tax (by which I mean the more you earn the more you pay); the direct election of Senators (chosen in elections rather than the state legislators, which is how the Constitution said it had to be done); more railroad regulation; free rural post office delivery. Many of these ideas would eventually become law, with the notable exception of one proposal we’ll get to later: the idea of pegging the dollar to silver. But at the time, these ideas are considered downright kooky.

So now I want to pose a question to you. One of the great hopes of the Populists is that they’ll be able to forge an alliance with the industrial workers of the cities and break the power of the big banks and big business. How realistic do you think that is?

No one?

—It’s really hard to say. We don’t know enough.

I understand. But Chris: you’ve got a thoughtful expression on your face. Whaddya say? Farmers and factory workers: a good fit?

—Nope.

Would you care to elaborate?

—“I would prefer not to.”

That wouldn’t happen to be a Melvillian “prefer not to,” would it?

—We’re reading “Bartleby the Scrivener” in Ms. Anthony’s class.

Got it. How about you, Paolo?

—Makes sense to me. They’re both getting screwed.

Do they have anything else in common?

—I dunno. Do they need anything else in common?

Great question. What do the rest of you think?

—It’s not clear to me that farmers and factory workers are a good fit. You said that one problem the farmers had was falling prices, right?

Yes, Adam, I did.

—That’s good for workers, right? They get cheaper food.

That’s true.

—More than that, though. It’s different cultures. People who live on farms and people who work in factories lead very different lives.

—I’d never want to live on farm. Pace is too slow.

—You’re a snob, Em.

—Why thank you, Adam!

I can tell you one thing you don’t often (sometimes, but not often) find on a farm that you find in cities all the time. Can you guess what I’m taking about?

—A good bagel?

—Any bagel?

Actually, you’re getting close. Who eats bagels in the late nineteenth century?

—Who doesn’t?

No, seriously.

—I am serious.

—Bagels are Jewish food.

Yes. And where are Jews from?

—Israel?

There is no Israel at this point. Where are all the Jews?

—Russia?

Yes.

—Poland?

Yes.

—France?

Some. But you get the idea. Jews are immigrants. There are lots and lots of immigrants in America. Most of them are in cities. Again: that’s not absolutely true. You’ve got Swedes in Minnesota, for example. Czechs in Nebraska. Germans and Mexicans in rural Texas (they’re making beautiful tejano music that integrates the two cultures). But there’s a general sense that the cities, particularly the eastern cities, are very mixed, while the countryside is very white.

—Aren’t Germans white?

Sort of. Whiter than the Irish, anyway. And both are whiter than the Italians. Particularly the Sicilians. They’re basically negroes.

—Like I said. There’s that cultural barrier. They’re like not even speaking the same language.

—No “like” about it. They’re literally not speaking the same language.

—It sounds like the Populists are racists.

—Why would you say that? Mr. K. just explained they’re reaching out. They want an alliance.

Well, Sadie does have a point, Adam. Yes, they do want an alliance. But they tend to think of it on their terms.

—Are there black populists?

A typically excellent question from Yin. The answer is yes. Populism was in many ways a decentralized movement, and so there were variations in the degree of interracial cooperation. Sadly, the cooperation that did exist tended to break down. One of the most famous Populists, Ben Tillman—known as “Pitchfork” Ben Tillman—ended up as a vicious racist. There was also, I’m sorry to say, an anti-semitic strain in Populists, despite (or maybe because) many Populists had never actually met a Jewish person. Some were convinced that Jewish bankers were taking over the world.

—God, this is thoroughly depressing. Thanks for all this happy information, Mr. K.

Well, don’t despair yet, Sadie. This story isn’t quite over. I have more to tell you.

—Hey, Sadie. Don’t feel bad. Now everybody eats bagels.

—Yeah, but I had a bagel once in Denver. It was awful.

—I had one in Florida that sucked too.

—Yes, but America is a work in progress. First we got bagels for everybody. Now we need to work on making better bagels.

—A good bagel is like a refreshing breeze. Now there’s a simile.

—As good as a bagel in Denver.

Pitchforks and Bagels

In which we see that capitalism is like a breeze—or maybe just is a breeze

The Felix Chronicles, #14

The fire drill has ended, and we’ve all shuffled back into the room on this chilly March afternoon. “All right then,” I say amid chatter that resists dying down, “so here we are on the cusp of Spring Break. Tomorrow we discuss the showdown election of 1896. But before we get to that, I’d like to take the remainder of today’s class to review where we’ve been, and the way I’d like to do that is with a simile.”

“Not a metaphor?” Erica asks. “I love metaphors.

“I can never tell the difference,” Ellen replies. Which one uses ‘like’ or ‘as’?”

“Similes,” I answer. "Here’s one: nineteenth-century industrial capitalism was like the weather. Everybody felt it, but reacted differently based on who they were, or where they were. Some regarded this new meteorological front sweeping across the landscape as a gentle breeze; others felt it like a chill. But people were responding to the weather in different ways.

“All those workers we’ve been talking about who went on strike: They were responding to that weather. Racists who used lynchings and Jim Crow laws to keep Negroes in their place – white Southerners were obsessed with this notion of place – wanted to make sure they didn’t lose their labor force to that weather.

“And then there are the farmers: Remember that the majority of Americans are living on farms until 1920. They too, are trying to respond to industrial capitalism–this is all the stuff we’ve been talking about and I hope you’ve been reading about: the Grange, the Southern Alliance, and the new Populist Party. These are all ways, increasingly sophisticated ways, whereby farmers deal with the challenges they face. Railroads make it possible to move their crops over long distances, but put them at the mercy of rapacious railroad companies. New equipment raises their yields, but it’s expensive and they borrow money that’s hard to pay back, particularly when prices are dropping. These Populists have a series of ideas about how to fix what’s wrong with the country: a graduated income tax; direct election of senators; railroad regulation, rural free postal delivery. Most of these ideas would eventually become law, with the notable exception of pegging the dollar to silver (something we’ll get to tomorrow). But at the time, many of them are dismissed as downright kooky.

Something about the word "kooky" grabs Erica’s attention; she pauses in her conversation with Ellen.

“One of the great hopes many Populists have is that they’ll be able to forge an alliance with industrial workers in the cities and break the power of big banks and big business. My question of the day for you is: How realistic a hope do you think that is?”

Nothing. I look at Chris. He’s been quiet lately, but he’s not a shy kid. “Whaddya say, Chris? Farmers and factory workers: a good fit?”

Chris purses his lips for a moment and then resumes his expressionless demeanor before answering: “Nope."

A burst of laughter at this terse reply. “Would you care to elaborate, Chris?”

“I would prefer not to,” he says.

Then I remember: “Don’t tell me: You’re reading ‘Bartleby the Scrivner’ in Ms. Buscemi’s class.”

“Nope.”

“Chris is with me in Mr. Alejandro’s class,” Joey explains. “We’re reading it too.”

“Ah. Well then. We’ll leave Chris to his Melvillian silence.” (He struggles to contain a smile.)

“How about you, Joey?” You care to render an opinion about whether farmers and factory workers can get together and challenge the power of the bankers and railroad companies?”

“I don’t see why not,” he answers. “Clearly, they’re both getting screwed.”

“Maybe so. They have anything else in common?”

“Do they need anything else?”

“That’s a great question. What do the rest of you think?”

Beth has been chatting up a storm with her pal Mark this whole time. But she’s multi-tasking even when she’s goofing off. “It’s not clear to me that they’re a natural fit,” she says. “You said that one problem the farmers had was dropping food prices, right?”

“I did.”

“That benefits workers, right? They get cheaper food?”

“Very often they did, yes.”

“These are people with very different cultures,” Lisa says. “I mean, farm life is very different than life in a city.”

“I’d never want to live on a farm,” Becky says. “Pace would be way too slow.”

“Spoken like a true New York snob,” I say.”

“Thank you!” she says, brightly.

“I can tell you that there’s one thing you won’t find very often on a farm that you find in cities all the time, I say. Can you guess what I’m talking about?”

“A good bagel?” Joey asks.

“Any bagel?” Alec follows.

“Actually, you’re getting close. Who likes to eat bagels?”

“Who doesn’t?” Becky asks.

“No, I mean seriously.”

“I am serious. Who doesn’t like bagels?”

“Jews,” Jason answers. “Jews like bagels.”

“Right. And who are Jews?”

Becky is still confused. “What do you mean, ‘who are Jews’?”

Sam, silent since the fire drill, weighs in. “Jews are immigrants. You don’t have a lot of immigrants in the South and the West where the farmers are.”

“Right. That’s not absolutely true. We talked about Swedes in Minnesota, Germans in Texas; Poles in Chicago. But by and large, there are not nearly as many immigrants of any kind in the South and the West on a scale resembling the immigrants back East. Do you find it interesting that there are all these moves for things like an income tax, postal delivery, and other forms of intervention out in the West? I can tell you they’re not getting a lot of traction among the main political parties back East. Why might that be?”

“It’s that cultural barrier,” Lisa says. “It’s like these people aren’t even speaking the same language.”

“Actually,” Sam says, “they’re literally not speaking the same language. No ‘like’ about it.”

“So you’re telling us that Populists are racists,” Kim says.

“Is that what I’m telling you?”

“I gotta say, reading about these Populists made me a little nervous,” Jason says. “I mean, you gotta like a lot of things these people wanted. But a lot of them were like really religious, and hated outsiders, and some of them turned out to be truly vicious racists, like that guy Pitchfork Ben Tillman. He started out as wanting to work with black people and then he became a monster. What was that all about?”

“The short answer is power,” I say. “But we don’t have to pay any attention to you, Jason. We all know your people were Jew bankers.”

A burst of laughter at that, Jason included. “Exactly. All I could think of was Hitler.”

Alec replies, “Jesus, Jason, that’s all you ever think of.” Again, hearty laughter.

“So is this where we are?” I ask when the laughter subsides. “The people who are most democratic are also the most racist? By the way, that’s how people talked in those days. They talked about the ‘Italian’ race and the ‘Syrian’ race (a term that pretty much included anyone from Turkey to Egypt), and so on. And they were also quite open about their Anti-Semitism. There was lots of talk about the Rothschild banking empire, a Jewish family from France. The fact that many of these people had never actually laid eyes on Jewish person made no difference. Of course, many people from the Eastern elite were no less likely to speak of Jews or other ethnic groups in such a hostile way.”

Mindy and Nate, zombies for the whole class, are closing their laptops. I get it: Time to go.

“God, this is thoroughly depressing,” Susan says as she closes her books. “Thanks for making my day, Ms. Bradstreet.”

“My pleasure,” I say as she heads for the door. “But don’t feel too bad, Susan. You should feel proud that you live in a country today where you can pretty much get a toasted bagel to warm you up on a chilly day anywhere from coast to coast. Not necessarily a great one, mind you, and not everywhere. But we’re working on it. Just think of it as the miraculous legacy of industrial capitalism.”

“A toasted bagel is like a refreshing breeze,” Ellen says as she walks out the door. Now I finally have the simile thing down."