A little while ago there was an excellent movie on HBO called “Hemingway and Gellhorn.” Hemingway was, of course, the famous writer, Earnest Hemingway, and Gellman was war correspondent Martha Gellhorn. They came together in 1937 when both were covering the Spanish civil war, and eventually married, but then eventually separated. Each one had a fascinating life story to tell. Hemingway was part of the famous American expatriate movement of writers and artists living in Paris during the 1920s, and receiving much acclamation for their works. Early on he assumed a highly macho persona, both in his writings and personal life experiences. But as the world soon learned, much of that machoism was to cover-up deeply held feelings of inadequacy and depression. His father had committed suicide as did two brothers, and Earnest, himself, put a bullet in his brain in 1961, at age 62. That streak of depression seemed to be genetic, because a son also eventually committed suicide as did a granddaughter in the 1990s. Martha Gellhorn, on the other hand, suffered from no bouts of depression, but was instead an intrepid war correspondent who in WWII went fearlessly into fields of battle and trenches with fighting soldiers, as bullets and bombs were exploding all around her. She covered both Europe and the Pacific during WWII and then many other war zones in the ensuing years. She lived to the ripe age of 90, and died of natural causes in 1998.
Hemingway always had fought fiercely against the rising tides of fascism during the early part of the 20th century and his experiences during the Spanish civil war were chronicled in perhaps his most famous novel: “For Whom The Bells Toll.” (Ask not for whom the bells toll. They toll for thee.) But watching that HBO movie got me thinking about the rise of fascism and the enormous toll it has taken on all of mankind. Fascism, which has probably existed for thousands of years, is defined by its extreme form of nationalism, the scapegoating of usually defenseless minorities, and virulent military aggression. It can officially be traced to the rise of Benito Mussolini in Italy in 1922. Mussolini rose to power through democratic means, but once attaining power, made himself dictator for life, and destroyed any semblance of democracy that may have existed in Italy at the time. He also got rid of anyone who might have posed a threat to his political power. He had grand delusions about Italy reclaiming the power and territory of the old Roman Empire. Of course Italy did not have the resources or wherewithal to achieve the grandeur of ancient Rome so Mussolini eventually had to settle for smaller ambitions. In the meantime, a little man with a funny mustache, but an ability to speak in a powerful demagogic style, was taking notes in Germany.
Adolph Hitler made no secret of his admiration or sympathies for for Mussolini’s brand of fascism. Hitler, like Mussolini came to power, largely through the democratic process. But like Mussolini, once in power he eliminated all opposition and became a tyrannical dictator for life. Fascism in Hitler’s Nazi Germany thrived, largely because of the Nazi scapegoating of the small minority of Jews that lived in Germany and throughout Europe at the time. Coupling that with vicious military aggression, and you have what’s fondly known as World War II. I’m assuming that everyone knows the horrors that took place then, so I won’t go into gruesome detail, except to say that 60 million people had to die in Europe alone, before the cancer of fascism was finally expunged. Except it wasn’t eradicated in Spain when Francisco Franco took power after winning the Spanish civil war that Hemingway wrote about. Franco was also a dedicated fascist, but was somehow smart enough to keep Spain out of WWII, despite the pleadings of Hitler and Mussolini to join the Axis powers. As a result, whereas Hitler and Mussolini met death during WWII, Franco died in bed in 1975. Thereafter, democracy finally returned to Spain. (As a side note, when I visited Barcelona during Christmas of 1961, there were still small squads of military troops stationed at busy thoroughfares to assure there would be no uprising against Franco. When I checked into the hotel, they sent my passport to the police for 4 hours to make sure I wasn’t someone sent there to assassinate Franco.This was a full 25 years after Franco became dictator.)
Fascism wasn’t just relegated to Europe during WWII. In the Pacific, Japan’s militaristic brand of fascism took hold, and a brutal war ensued throughout that region that claimed millions of more lives. Japan’s brutality toward nations it had invaded was every bit as vicious as Nazi brutality in Europe. Japan might have still been ruling large chunks of the Pacific with an iron fist, had they not made the fatal mistake of bombing Pearl Harbor in December 1941. Until then Congress would not authorize the President to enter WWII. After, however, we entered the war on both fronts. Not that a strong dose of fascism didn’t exist in the U.S. For example, the Ku Klux Klan with its extreme hatred and violence toward blacks and Jews, gained enormous strength and had membership in the millions by the 1920s. Then there were large numbers of Nazi sympathizers and Hitler admirers that continually advocated for us not to join the war in Europe on the side of Britain and the Allies. President Roosevelt knew better, and would have brought us into the war sooner, but as I’ve said, his hands were tied by Congress, until the disaster at Pearl Harbor.
Today the tentacles of fascism still slither throughout the landscape, both here and abroad. Psychologically the roots of fascism are based on the strong urge to blame, or scapegoat others for one’s personal failures. Thus, “it’s not my fault that everything I’ve tried to achieve has been disaster. If it wasn’t for all those illegal aliens and foreigners getting all the good jobs, or all the preferences or affirmative actions shown to minorities I’d be a huge success.” Or so the thinking goes. I guess as long as human nature is what it is, the eradication of fascism, once and for all, will be beyond our grasp.
DEPRESSION AT ITS ROOTS
I thought that, for a change of pace, we would discuss a really fun topic like depression. No not the mental breakdown type, but the fiscal meltdown type instead. Although if you have a financial breakdown, it’s sure to cause a plethora of the mental type, so maybe we’ll wind up talking about both. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but tell that to the homeless guy sleeping in a cardboard box in a back alley or under a bridge somewhere. Or to the recent winners of the mega-millions jackpot as they were popping the champagne corks. It’s hard to imagine any individual or family where money doesn’t play a central role.
Throughout American history there’s been at least a dozen major depressions, or panics as they were sometimes called, starting as early as 1807. There was also a few milder recessions thrown in for good luck. (Ronald Reagan used to say that a recession is when your neighbor loses his job, and a depression is when you are thrown out of work. Not a bad definition.) But the depression I would like to focus on is the one back in the thirties. Not the 1930s, but the 1830s, or 1837 to be exact. It’s hard to believe they could have a depression back then when the entire U.S. population was only about 17 million. But not only did they have a depression, it was just as severe and destructive to people’s lives as the 1930s joyride. Those that are such strong advocates of capitalism somehow never get around to talking about capitalism’s failures, and how numerous they have been.
The U.S. government in 1837 was a modern day tea party’s dream come true in that it hardly did anything and hardly spent any money. It had a small Army and a few ships they called a Navy, a State Department that conducted a limited amount of foreign affairs, a small Attorney General’s office, and perhaps something that looked like an agriculture department to help out farmers. Even then people recognized that food was too important to deny at least some government involvement to help offset the hardships that droughts or flooding rains may have caused farmers. But outside of these limited functions there was little government activity. Revenues came primarily from tariffs on imported goods, so tax rates on rich or poor was a non-factor.
In November of 1836, the only man in U.S. history to be elected from the House of Representatives directly to the White House, Martin Van Buren, became president in the following year, succeeding the the 8 year presidency of Andrew Jackson. Economic times were good at the start of the Van Buren presidency, as land values started to sky rocket in value because of increasing numbers of people pushing west. One might say there was a growing real-estate bubble, not unlike the one that has led to our current economic down-turn. Banks were eagerly encouraging people to borrow money and invest in real estate to keep land values rising. Sound familiar? However, with all the cheap money flooding the market, inflation started to soar, and the government, in its infinite wisdom, declared that outstanding debt would have to be repaid in gold or silver, which made all the paper money on the market almost valueless. Instantly, there was widespread panic, as people rushed to their banks to withdraw their life’s savings while they could. Almost overnight, 40% of the banks in the U.S. had to close their shutters, since they were unable to meet their financial obligations. Financial destruction and ruin ensued on a massive scale in most people’s lives, from which they would never recover.
Since governments in those days didn’t do much of anything outside of defense and foreign affairs, Van Buren was clueless as to what remedial actions the government might take to alleviate the hard financial times. So in the end he did nothing, and the unrelenting depression dragged on for 6 years until finally the economy started to improve in 1843. The depression caused Van Buren to lose his re-election bid in 1840, and he probably went to his grave insisting it was not government’s role to bail out the economy. Sort of like today’s far right, who are still monumentally upset that the current administration bailed out General Motors and Chrysler in their time of need, instead of letting them go out of business, with a few hundred thousand more jobs going down the drain.
What is the relevance of the 1837 depression to our current world affairs? It’s not that capitalism is bad. Indeed, it’s probably the only real workable economic system at this stage of man’s evolutionary development. Even Communist China recognized that when they went to a market economy. But capitalism does have some deep fault lines that are ripe for exploitation by the unscrupulous. For example, when my wife and I bought our first house, people acquired real estate primarily for living purposes. We were required to put 20% of the purchase as a down payment. But early in the 21st century the fast-buck artists felt there was a quick killing to be made by constantly inflating real-estate values through convincing potential home-buyers to secure mortgages they could ill-afford with virtually no down payment. Real-estate prices could only go up, they told dubious buyers, before the crash came and all the foreclosures with it. And all the people now sitting in their homes with mortgages that are under-water. The 1930s depression was caused by the same-type of fast-buck artists that were exploiting the stock market, causing ever-increasing and unsustainable stock prices until the crash came.
So in the end it doesn’t matter whether it’s capitalism or socialism, or any other ism. What matters is the honesty and integrity of the people participating in what ever system is put in place. What’s important is to have the safeguards necessary to prevent the dishonest, the unscrupulous, and the out-and-out scammers from perverting whatever the chosen system of economics is. One final note. Mitt Romney has secured the GOP nomination, but during the primaries he referred to himself as a “severe conservative.” I wonder if that’s like a severe depression. Maybe it’s just a severe mental breakdown.