• Re: H.W. Brands, *Traitor to His Class: The Privileged Life and Radical

    From Steve Hayes@1:229/2 to All on Friday, January 07, 2022 04:39:28
    XPost: soc.history
    From: hayesstw@telkomsa.net

    On Thu, 6 Jan 2022 14:12:25 -0800 (PST), Jeffrey Rubard <jeffreydanielrubard@gmail.com> wrote:


    [...]

    Franklin Roosevelt’s Sunday morning began as most of his Sundays
    began: with a cigarette and the Sunday papers in bed. He wasn’t a
    regular churchgoer, con?ning his attendance mainly to special
    occasions: weddings, funerals, his three inaugurations. In his youth
    and young adulthood he had often spent Sundays on the golf course, but
    his gol?ng days were long over, to his lasting regret. This Sunday morning–the ?rst Sunday of December 1941–he read about himself in the papers. The New York Times gave him the top head, explaining how he
    had sent a personal appeal for peace to the Japanese emperor. Neither
    the Times nor the Washington Post, which provided similar coverage,
    included the substance of his appeal, as he had directed the State
    Department to release only the fact of his having approached the
    emperor. This way he got credit for his efforts on behalf of peace
    without having to acknowledge how hopeless those efforts were. The
    papers put the burden of warmongering on Japan; the government in
    Tokyo declared that its “patience” with the Western powers was at an
    end. Heavy movements of Japanese troops in occupied
    Indochina–movements about which Roosevelt had quietly released
    corroborating information–suggested an imminent thrust against
    Thailand or Malaya.

    Sharing the headlines with the prospect of war in the Pacific was the
    reality of war in the Atlantic and Europe. The German offensive
    against the Soviet Union, begun the previous June, seemed to have
    stalled just short of Moscow. Temperatures of twenty below zero were
    punishing the German attackers, searing their flesh and freezing their crankcases. The Germans were forced to find shelter from the cold; the
    front apparently had locked into place for the winter. On the
    Atlantic, the British had just sunk a German commerce raider, or so
    they claimed. The report from the war zone was sketchy and
    unconfirmed. The admiralty in London volunteered that its cruiser
    Dorsetshire had declined to look for survivors, as it feared German
    submarines in the area.

    Roosevelt supposed he’d get the details from Winston Churchill. The
    president and the prime minister shared a love of the sea, and
    Churchill, since assuming his current of?ce eighteen months ago, had
    made a point of apprising Roosevelt of aspects of the naval war kept
    secret from others outside the British government. Churchill and
    Roosevelt wrote each other several times a week; they spoke by
    telephone less often but still regularly.

    An inside account of the war was the least the prime minister could
    provide, as Roosevelt was furnishing Churchill and the British the
    arms and equipment that kept their struggle against Germany alive.
    Until now Roosevelt had left the actual ?ghting to the British, but he
    made certain they got what they needed to remain in the battle.

    The situation might change at any moment, though, the Sunday papers
    implied. The Navy Department–which was to say, Roosevelt–had just
    ordered the seizure of Finnish vessels in American ports, on the
    ground that Finland had become a de facto member of the Axis alliance.
    Navy secretary Frank Knox, reporting to Congress on the war readiness
    of the American ?eet, assured the legislators that it was “second to
    none.” Yet it still wasn’t strong enough, Knox said. “The
    international situation is such that we must arm as rapidly as
    possible to meet our naval defense requirements simultaneously in both
    oceans against any possible combination of powers concerting against
    us.”

    Roosevelt read these remarks with satisfaction. The president had long
    prided himself on clever appointments, but no appointment had tickled
    him more than his tapping of Knox, a Republican from the stronghold of
    American isolationism, Chicago. By reaching out to the Republicans–not
    once but twice: at the same time that he chose Knox, Roosevelt named
    Republican Henry Stimson secretary of war–the president signaled a
    desire for a bipar­tisan foreign policy. By picking a Chicagoan,
    Roosevelt poked a ?nger in the eye of the arch- isolationist Chicago
    Tribune, a poke that hurt the more as Knox was the publisher of the
    rival Chicago Daily News.

    Roosevelt might have chuckled to himself again, re?ecting on how he
    had cut the ground from under the isolationists, one square foot at a
    time; but the recent developments were no laughing matter. Four years
    had passed since his “quarantine” speech in Chicago, which had warned against German and Japanese aggression. The strength of the
    isolationists had prevented him from following up at that time, or for
    many months thereafter. But by reiterating his message again and
    again–and with the help of Hitler and the Japanese, who repeatedly
    proved him right–he gradually brought the American people around to
    his way of thinking. He persuaded Congress to amend America’s
    neutrality laws and to let the democracies purchase American weapons
    for use against the fascists. He sent American destroyers to Britain
    to keep the sea lanes open. His greatest coup was Lend- Lease, the
    program that made Amer­ica the armory of the anti- fascist alliance.
    He had done everything but ask Congress to declare war. The Sunday
    papers thought this ?nal step might come soon. He knew more than the
    papers did, and he thought so, too.


    ***


    But there was something he didn’t know, or even imagine. Roosevelt was
    still reading the papers when an American minesweeper on a predawn
    patrol two miles off the southern coast of the Hawaiian island of
    Oahu, near the entrance to Pearl Harbor, spotted what looked like a
    periscope. No Amer­ican submarines were supposed to be in the area,
    and the minesweeper reported the sighting to its backup, the destroyer
    Ward. The report provoked little alarm, partly because Hawaii was so
    far from Japan and partly because Pearl Harbor’s shallow bottom seemed suf?cient protection against enemy subs. Some of?cers on the Ward
    questioned the sighting; eyes play tricks in the dark. Perhaps there
    was an American sub in the area; this wouldn’t have been the ?rst time overzealous security or a simple screwup had prevented information
    from reaching the patrols. In any event, the Ward responded slowly to
    the asserted sighting and spent most of the next two hours cruising
    the area and discovering nothing.


    [continued in next message]

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)
  • From Jeffrey Rubard@1:229/2 to Jeffrey Rubard on Monday, January 17, 2022 20:06:12
    From: jeffreydanielrubard@gmail.com

    On Saturday, January 8, 2022 at 7:55:11 AM UTC-8, Jeffrey Rubard wrote:
    On Thursday, January 6, 2022 at 2:12:26 PM UTC-8, Jeffrey Rubard wrote:
    [...]

    Franklin Roosevelt’s Sunday morning began as most of his Sundays began: with a cigarette and the Sunday papers in bed. He wasn’t a regular churchgoer, confining his attendance mainly to special occasions: weddings, funerals, his three
    inaugurations. In his youth and young adulthood he had often spent Sundays on the golf course, but his golfing days were long over, to his lasting regret. This Sunday morning–the first Sunday of December 1941–he read about himself in the papers.
    The New York Times gave him the top head, explaining how he had sent a personal appeal for peace to the Japanese emperor. Neither the Times nor the Washington Post, which provided similar coverage, included the substance of his appeal, as he had directed
    the State Department to release only the fact of his having approached the emperor. This way he got credit for his efforts on behalf of peace without having to acknowledge how hopeless those efforts were. The papers put the burden of warmongering on
    Japan; the government in Tokyo declared that its “patience” with the Western powers was at an end. Heavy movements of Japanese troops in occupied Indochina–movements about which Roosevelt had quietly released corroborating information–suggested
    an imminent thrust against Thailand or Malaya.

    Sharing the headlines with the prospect of war in the Pacific was the reality of war in the Atlantic and Europe. The German offensive against the Soviet Union, begun the previous June, seemed to have stalled just short of Moscow. Temperatures of
    twenty below zero were punishing the German attackers, searing their flesh and freezing their crankcases. The Germans were forced to find shelter from the cold; the front apparently had locked into place for the winter. On the Atlantic, the British had
    just sunk a German commerce raider, or so they claimed. The report from the war zone was sketchy and unconfirmed. The admiralty in London volunteered that its cruiser Dorsetshire had declined to look for survivors, as it feared German submarines in the
    area.

    Roosevelt supposed he’d get the details from Winston Churchill. The president and the prime minister shared a love of the sea, and Churchill, since assuming his current office eighteen months ago, had made a point of apprising Roosevelt of aspects
    of the naval war kept secret from others outside the British government. Churchill and Roosevelt wrote each other several times a week; they spoke by telephone less often but still regularly.

    An inside account of the war was the least the prime minister could provide, as Roosevelt was furnishing Churchill and the British the arms and equipment that kept their struggle against Germany alive. Until now Roosevelt had left the actual fi
    ghting to the British, but he made certain they got what they needed to remain in the battle.

    The situation might change at any moment, though, the Sunday papers implied. The Navy Department–which was to say, Roosevelt–had just ordered the seizure of Finnish vessels in American ports, on the ground that Finland had become a de facto
    member of the Axis alliance. Navy secretary Frank Knox, reporting to Congress on the war readiness of the American fleet, assured the legislators that it was “second to none.” Yet it still wasn’t strong enough, Knox said. “The international
    situation is such that we must arm as rapidly as possible to meet our naval defense requirements simultaneously in both oceans against any possible combination of powers concerting against us.”

    Roosevelt read these remarks with satisfaction. The president had long prided himself on clever appointments, but no appointment had tickled him more than his tapping of Knox, a Republican from the stronghold of American isolationism, Chicago. By
    reaching out to the Republicans–not once but twice: at the same time that he chose Knox, Roosevelt named Republican Henry Stimson secretary of war–the president signaled a desire for a bipar­tisan foreign policy. By picking a Chicagoan, Roosevelt
    poked a finger in the eye of the arch- isolationist Chicago Tribune, a poke that hurt the more as Knox was the publisher of the rival Chicago Daily News.

    Roosevelt might have chuckled to himself again, reflecting on how he had cut the ground from under the isolationists, one square foot at a time; but the recent developments were no laughing matter. Four years had passed since his “quarantine”
    speech in Chicago, which had warned against German and Japanese aggression. The strength of the isolationists had prevented him from following up at that time, or for many months thereafter. But by reiterating his message again and again–and with the
    help of Hitler and the Japanese, who repeatedly proved him right–he gradually brought the American people around to his way of thinking. He persuaded Congress to amend America’s neutrality laws and to let the democracies purchase American weapons for
    use against the fascists. He sent American destroyers to Britain to keep the sea lanes open. His greatest coup was Lend- Lease, the program that made Amer­ica the armory of the anti- fascist alliance. He had done everything but ask Congress to declare
    war. The Sunday papers thought this final step might come soon. He knew more than the papers did, and he thought so, too.


    ***



    [continued in next message]

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)
  • From Jeffrey Rubard@1:229/2 to Jeffrey Rubard on Tuesday, January 18, 2022 18:46:14
    From: jeffreydanielrubard@gmail.com

    On Monday, January 17, 2022 at 8:06:13 PM UTC-8, Jeffrey Rubard wrote:
    On Saturday, January 8, 2022 at 7:55:11 AM UTC-8, Jeffrey Rubard wrote:
    On Thursday, January 6, 2022 at 2:12:26 PM UTC-8, Jeffrey Rubard wrote:
    [...]

    Franklin Roosevelt’s Sunday morning began as most of his Sundays began: with a cigarette and the Sunday papers in bed. He wasn’t a regular churchgoer, confining his attendance mainly to special occasions: weddings, funerals, his three
    inaugurations. In his youth and young adulthood he had often spent Sundays on the golf course, but his golfing days were long over, to his lasting regret. This Sunday morning–the first Sunday of December 1941–he read about himself in the papers.
    The New York Times gave him the top head, explaining how he had sent a personal appeal for peace to the Japanese emperor. Neither the Times nor the Washington Post, which provided similar coverage, included the substance of his appeal, as he had directed
    the State Department to release only the fact of his having approached the emperor. This way he got credit for his efforts on behalf of peace without having to acknowledge how hopeless those efforts were. The papers put the burden of warmongering on
    Japan; the government in Tokyo declared that its “patience” with the Western powers was at an end. Heavy movements of Japanese troops in occupied Indochina–movements about which Roosevelt had quietly released corroborating information–suggested
    an imminent thrust against Thailand or Malaya.

    Sharing the headlines with the prospect of war in the Pacific was the reality of war in the Atlantic and Europe. The German offensive against the Soviet Union, begun the previous June, seemed to have stalled just short of Moscow. Temperatures of
    twenty below zero were punishing the German attackers, searing their flesh and freezing their crankcases. The Germans were forced to find shelter from the cold; the front apparently had locked into place for the winter. On the Atlantic, the British had
    just sunk a German commerce raider, or so they claimed. The report from the war zone was sketchy and unconfirmed. The admiralty in London volunteered that its cruiser Dorsetshire had declined to look for survivors, as it feared German submarines in the
    area.

    Roosevelt supposed he’d get the details from Winston Churchill. The president and the prime minister shared a love of the sea, and Churchill, since assuming his current office eighteen months ago, had made a point of apprising Roosevelt of
    aspects of the naval war kept secret from others outside the British government. Churchill and Roosevelt wrote each other several times a week; they spoke by telephone less often but still regularly.

    An inside account of the war was the least the prime minister could provide, as Roosevelt was furnishing Churchill and the British the arms and equipment that kept their struggle against Germany alive. Until now Roosevelt had left the actual fi
    ghting to the British, but he made certain they got what they needed to remain in the battle.

    The situation might change at any moment, though, the Sunday papers implied. The Navy Department–which was to say, Roosevelt–had just ordered the seizure of Finnish vessels in American ports, on the ground that Finland had become a de facto
    member of the Axis alliance. Navy secretary Frank Knox, reporting to Congress on the war readiness of the American fleet, assured the legislators that it was “second to none.” Yet it still wasn’t strong enough, Knox said. “The international
    situation is such that we must arm as rapidly as possible to meet our naval defense requirements simultaneously in both oceans against any possible combination of powers concerting against us.”

    Roosevelt read these remarks with satisfaction. The president had long prided himself on clever appointments, but no appointment had tickled him more than his tapping of Knox, a Republican from the stronghold of American isolationism, Chicago. By
    reaching out to the Republicans–not once but twice: at the same time that he chose Knox, Roosevelt named Republican Henry Stimson secretary of war–the president signaled a desire for a bipar­tisan foreign policy. By picking a Chicagoan, Roosevelt
    poked a finger in the eye of the arch- isolationist Chicago Tribune, a poke that hurt the more as Knox was the publisher of the rival Chicago Daily News.

    Roosevelt might have chuckled to himself again, reflecting on how he had cut the ground from under the isolationists, one square foot at a time; but the recent developments were no laughing matter. Four years had passed since his “quarantine”
    speech in Chicago, which had warned against German and Japanese aggression. The strength of the isolationists had prevented him from following up at that time, or for many months thereafter. But by reiterating his message again and again–and with the
    help of Hitler and the Japanese, who repeatedly proved him right–he gradually brought the American people around to his way of thinking. He persuaded Congress to amend America’s neutrality laws and to let the democracies purchase American weapons for
    use against the fascists. He sent American destroyers to Britain to keep the sea lanes open. His greatest coup was Lend- Lease, the program that made Amer­ica the armory of the anti- fascist alliance. He had done everything but ask Congress to declare
    war. The Sunday papers thought this final step might come soon. He knew more than the papers did, and he thought so, too.


    ***



    [continued in next message]

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)