October 17, 2004|By Geoffrey R. Stone, law professor at the University of Chicago and the author of "Perilous Times: Free Speech in Wartime."
As the rhetoric of the 2004 presidential campaign descends to the level of fear-mongering, and as President Bush pointedly accuses his challenger, Sen. John Kerry, of advancing policies that will "weaken America," it is important to recall other periods in our history when national leaders have similarly manipulated fear to serve narrowly partisan ends.
This autumn marks the 50th anniversary of the fall of Sen. Joseph McCarthy. During the decade we now associate with "McCarthyism," fear ran rampant in our national politics. The leap in the late 1940s and early 1950s from a reasoned fear of Soviet espionage to an unreasoned fear of "un-Americanism" was triggered by partisan exploitation. With the Iron Curtain, the fall of China, the Korean War and the fear of nuclear bombs raining down on American cities, the American public was ripe for opportunistic politicians. After the Soviet Union exploded its first atomic bomb, many communities in the United States issued dog tags to schoolchildren so their bodies could be identified after a nuclear attack, and newspaper editorials hysterically advocated an immediate pre-emptive war against Russia "before it is too late." For anti-New Deal Republicans trying desperately to regain political power after 16 years of Democratic dominance, it was, truly, the opportunity of a lifetime.
In the 1946 midterm elections, the Republicans first began to play the Red card. In California, a young Richard Nixon charged his congressional opponent with voting the "Moscow" line; in Nebraska, Republican Sen. Hugh Butler charged that "if the New Deal is still in control of Congress after the election, it will owe that control to the Communist Party"; and B. Carroll Reece, the chairman of the Republican National Committee, proclaimed that the "choice which confronts Americans is between Communism and Republicanism." The Republicans won a stunning victory, picking up 54 seats in the House and 11 in the Senate. Fear had proved a potent political weapon.
In February 1950, a little-known junior senator from Wisconsin entered the fray with his infamous "I Have a List" speech to a Republican Women's Club in Wheeling, W.Va. Although McCarthy's accusations were patently false, Republicans saw him as their ticket to power. He was soon the most sought-after speaker in the nation as he raged against political opponents determined "to reduce security ... to a nullity."
Over the next few years, a growing sense of national anxiety caused Americans to fear Americans and led millions of citizens to confuse panic with patriotism.
Of course, Joseph McCarthy did not invent the use of fear and invective for partisan political gain. As early as 1798, when the United States was on the verge of war with France, bitter political conflict buffeted the nation and called into question the very survival of the Constitution. Although supporters of Thomas Jefferson questioned the need for war, anti-French Federalists warned that "unless the nation prepared immediately for war," it could expect "nothing but bloodshed, slaughter, pillage and a complete subjection to France." President John Adams placed the country in a state of undeclared war against France, and a wave of patriotic fervor swept the nation. The Federalist Congress gave Adams everything he asked for, and the man who had won the presidency only two years earlier by only three electoral votes over Jefferson suddenly became a national hero.
When Jefferson's supporters questioned the president's call to arms, they were charged with dishonesty and disloyalty. Federalist congressman "Long John" Allen questioned whether they loved their country and Federalist congressman William Edmund charged them with being "so degraded" that they were willing to receive whatever "boon we can beg" from the French. In a pattern that has become all too common, Federalists blurred the line between dissent and treason. Congressman Robert Goodloe Harper charged Jeffersonians with attempting to prepare "the people for a base surrender of their rights," and Adams accused them of supporting measures that "would sink the glory of our country and prostrate her liberties at the feet of France." Such people, he observed, were deserving only of "our contempt and abhorrence."
In this crisis, the Federalists saw--and seized--the opportunity to strike a critical blow at their opponents. By discrediting Jefferson as weak in the face of a supposed external danger, the Federalists attempted to entrench themselves as the nation's dominant party. By leveraging a moment of high patriotism, they managed to enact the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 in an effort to cripple forever the party of Jefferson and Madison.