Fighting Fascists on the Homefront

Rachel Maddow is a fine writer. Known for her award-winning show on MSNBC, Maddow has authored several books. Her latest, Prequel: An American Fight Against Fascism, is a well-researched and engaging work of popular history. It is an important book, too, for it shines a light on a often-overlooked episode in America’s past. Prequel offers a look at many of the key fascist activists and spies in the U.S. leading up to World War II. Long on personalities, the book brings the story to life through peppery prose and close attention to individuals and conflict. It is no accident that the book opens with a “Cast of Characters.”

Drawing on a wealth of traditional scholarship that Maddow graciously acknowledges, Prequel is strongest when demonstrating how some American fascists gained influence and how they failed or were stopped. We know many of their names. The architect Philip Johnson was an earlier Nazi supporter, and while Louisiana Senator Huey Long was murdered before Hitler gained power, Maddow rightly attends to his anti-democratic tendencies. So, too, does the enormously popular radio host, Father Charles Coughlin, who made antisemitism a key component of his message.

Prequel hits its stride when Maddow writes about the anti-fascists. A courageous young Minnesota journalist, Arnold Eric Sevareid, investigated the “Silver Shirts,” a local fascist organization. Leon Lewis, a California lawyer, created an anti-fascist spy organization to gather information. He and his team did daring work yet government officials were reluctant to act. It is a recurring theme that Maddow underscores: consistent unwillingness to take the fascist threat seriously. Nonetheless, it was a significant concern, particularly as she recounts the theft of weapons and ammunition and accompanying training by the “Country Gentlemen” in New York State. Public statements supporting Nazi Germany, Nazi anti-Jewish pogroms, and explicit antisemitism were rampant. Yet few were censured and when the law was broken, convictions were equally rare.

Other lesser known heroes include FBI agent Leon Turrou, whose story infiltrating a Nazi spy ring was made into a popular movie. Justice Department prosecutor O. John Rogge sought cases against fascists and Nazi sympathizers. And most surprising, a direct mail advertiser, Henry Hoke, led a person campaign that uncovered the free franking of anti-Jewish mailers by federal elected officials sympathetic to the Nazi cause. Germany at the time was working to stoke divisions in American politics. The fight against the Nazis in the 1930s was not an organized coordinated effort. Instead, it was led by the heroics of people in different roles and places, people who took it upon themselves to defend democracy.

Maddox does not talk about current affairs in Prequel but the present is never too far from the book. It is for good reason, too. Democratic rights are not a given. Instead, they require ongoing protection and action. This was true in the years leading up to World War II, just as it is today.

David Potash

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Righteous Rage at the Hollywood Machine

It often seems that every few days a new story emerges about bad behavior in Hollywood. It’s a feature of the tabloids. It is in mainstream media, too, be it an alleged sexual assault, a lawsuit regarding discrimination, or straightforward awful behavior. From the rapes committed by Bill Cosby to the despicable behavior of Harvey Weinstein to the firing or resignation of this executive or that, it often feel like a recurring theme in the entertainment industry. It is not new news, either. Was Howard Hughes all that different from many other powerful men (it is almost always men) who used and abused? Assessing conditions over time is difficult but one wonders, as society works to provide more protection to people in their places of work, whether conditions have improved.

Reading Maureen Ryan’s Burn It Down: Power, Complicity, and a Call for Change in Hollywood offers a damning picture to address that question. A journalist with decades of experience in the entertainment field, Ryan is well situated to catalog, reveal, and explain a long-standing culture and practice of bad behavior. Her book is fueled by rage at injustice. She knows many in the industry and as she recounts tales of exploitation and injustice, one can feel the heat of anger on the page. Burn It Down, though, offers more than anger. Ryan is explicit about ways that things could change for the better.

There is an immediacy to the text that engages, akin to long form journalism. That kind of writing brings with it a sense that we are insiders. We learn about this or that TV show, the people involved, and the culture and practice. One can imagine industry professionals talking in a similar way. We learn about the informal structures that go into making a production. I had not realized the extent to which many productions are created through extraordinarily hierarchic structures. Ryan’s descriptions remind one of stories of ships centuries ago, when a captain was a god with little or no accountability. A TV show run the same way? It was news to me that so much of Hollywood’s work, from the studio heads to the producers to the movies and shows, were organized and managed along those lines. The very organizational structures seem to facilitate the possibility of bad behavior.

Ryan’s book is full of examples, from underpaid and exploited lower level employees, to suicides and breakdowns. She has tales of bullying, toxic actions, sexual assaults, intimidation, blackmail, and out and out criminal activity. Reading Burn it Down makes one wonder whether the fame and money for those in the industry are worth the massive costs. More than a few supremely talented people have walked away. Or were paid to leave, thanks to negotiated settlements, NDAs, or less ethical means.

The heart of the book comes from many interviews Ryan had with actors and entertainment industry employees, mostly in 2021 and 2022. Many names and shows are kept anonymous. Ryan supplements the first-person accounts with lawsuits, depositions, arrests and old-fashioned journalism. She goes deep into the problems with several popular shows. Lost, Sleepy Hollow, and SNL loom large.

A short-coming of the book’s immediacy, however, is that it can be difficult to know the players, structures and stories around the many shows and movies and productions. Burn It Down is probably best read and understood by those that have first-person experience in the entertainment industry. Ryan does not offer much big-picture structure or data to help frame the industry or the scope of the problem. The book contains data and facts, to be sure, but without the structure, it is difficult to keep the timelines and players clear. I found myself searching for information about shows, actors, producers and the like to better contextualize Ryan’s histories.

The author is a fan, committed to the creation of good stories and entertainment. Ryan cares and her enthusiasm gives momentum to her writing. She wants us to realize, as she has come to understand, that there are important distinctions between the quality of a show and the quality of the conditions that informed the creation of that show.

Ryan’s recommendations range from the common sense to bigger shifts in how the entertainment business is organized. The absence of professional development for those in leadership position is striking, as are the guidelines that exist in so many other areas of the economy. Lawsuits and egregious behavior, which make the press, are not reliable guideposts to what is and is not acceptable. Ryan’s suggestions for ongoing and structured training, coupled with a deep commitment to diversity, make good sense. But how might they be implemented?

Another deeper question remains: would those who have been enjoying the wealth, power and influence for so many decades be willing to change? Ryan knows that it will take much more than exposes, law suits and well-written books to facilitate improvements. Burn It Down is a welcome step in the right direction.

David Potash

Seeing Through Myths and Stories

Nesrine Malik is a London-based journalist who writes for The Guardian and presents on the BBC. Born in the Sudan, Malik spent most of her early years in the mid-east before moving to the UK. She writes about contemporary politics, especially in the U.S. and England, Islam, and identity politics. Malik is very smart and unapologetic in her critiques. She provides a vital perspective, informed by her personal history.

Right before the pandemic, Malik’s book, We Need New Stories: The Myths That Subvert Freedom, was published. It is a short, accessible and thoughtful presentation of six “myths: that frame US/UK political culture. Do not think of Joseph Campbell. Instead, conjure up what everyone knows to be true but turns out is not, actually, true. Malik efficiently assesses and critiques these myths, or commonly accepted “truths”, as most definitely creative fictions. They are lies or misunderstandings with a purpose and impact. She effectively argues in the book that the myths stand in the way of human freedom.

Malik’s focus, accordingly, is not on just on using data to demonstrate what is and is not accurate. She is after something slightly different, the effect of mindset when it comes to how important big picture political issues are framed. The six myths Malik calls out are the myth of the reliable narrator, political correctness, a free speech crisis, harmful identity politics, national exceptionalism and gender equality. The terrain is all contemporary. Each chapter, though, provides some reference as each of these have lengthy and complicated historical roots. Woven throughout the exposition are examples and observations drawn from Malik’s personal history as an Islamic woman growing up in the Sudan. She sees things that many of us who have lived in the culture might not recognize.

For each of the myths, Malik presents data, resources and examples to illustrate the fundamental unsoundness of the commonly accepted story. The reliable narrators in the past two decades, for example, reliably get many things wrong and rarely apologize. She examines here the “wise leaders” who preach a particular course of action and the preeminent example is the invasion of Iraq. Untold numbers died, billions were expended, and accountability never really happened. In fact, the same leaders and leadership structures remain as influential today. Our narrators, in other words, need to be questioned. Malik’s argument is compelling. When it comes to political correctness and a crisis of free speech, Malik emphasizes that what is different today is that those with power and influence are peddling these issues for gain. Are we truly in a crisis where many are afraid to speak honestly because of the heavy weight of political correctness? Malik underscores the recurring strategy of creating a sense of victimhood to motivate identity and political action. Exactly who is being harmed and how when people celebrate their identities? Or interrogate stories of national exceptionalism?

The book is interesting, well-paced and solid. Malik delivers her claims effectively. Missing are discussions of why these myths are so prevalent and exist across countries, cultures and histories. She does not give much energy into exploring why these myths are so successful. In the marketplace of ideas and arguments, why does an imagined fear of political correctness have legs while other fears and issues do not? Malik hints at reasons, but does not travel that path. It is unfortunate, for many of her exploded myths tightly align with decades of provocative scholarship on nationalism. Stories of injustice and victim hood are effective tools at mobilizing political support and agency in some circumstances. It is key to remember, too, that victims are rarely asked to think of anything or anything other than themselves. Perhaps in another book.

I am looking forward to reading more from Nesrine Malik. We need her insights and perspective.

David Potash