THOUGHT-CONTROL IN AMERICA
The
Birth
of
the Blacklist
Excerpted from an article by Patrick Goldstein
CALENDAR MAGAZINE
The Hollywood Blacklist. Fifty years ago this week, the House Committee on Un-
American Activities began a series of clamorous hearings in Washington that sparked a
campaign of anti-communist hysteria that swept through Hollywood, then the State
Department, labor unions, academia and the armed forces. It was the age of loyalty oaths
and McCarthyism, a chilling time in which free speech and the 1st Amendment were
tossed out the window. Lives and careers were also ruined in other fields, but it was
Hollywood, the incubator for America's popular culture, that became center ring for the
Red Scare circus.
HUAC began its hearings on Oct. 20, 1947, with its rotund committee chairman, J. Parnell
Thomas, perched on two telephone books and a red silk cushion so he could be seen by
the swarm of newsreel and TV cameras. Two future presidents were on hand, Richard
Nixon as a member of HUAC, Ronald Reagan as a friendly witness. Nineteen unfriendly
witnesses were subpoenaed, mostly suspected communist writers and directors. Ten
eventually testified, refusing to discuss their party affiliations or name party members.
Known as the Hollywood 10, they were found in contempt of Congress, fired from their
jobs and eventually sent to prison...
Fifty years after the blacklist's beginnings, the scars are still visible; wounds that should
have healed are still fresh. Forgiveness is not in the air. As recently as January, the Los
Angeles Film Critics Assn. voted against giving its life achievement award to Elia Kazan,
citing his HUAC testimony, in which he informed on eight friends who had been fellow
members of the Communist Party... In today's Hollywood, honors are going only to those
who were blacklisted. With a 50th-Anniversary date here, the movie business is soothing
its conscience with a flurry of commemorative events. Much of this activity has been
spurred by the industry's sense of complicity in the blacklist. The blacklist was not
government-imposed -- it was created by the Hollywood studio chiefs themselves. For
anyone with a fascination for human frailty, blacklist misdeeds cover the political
spectrum. The industry's communist activities were dogmatic and sanctimonious; liberals
easily bullied; conservatives guilty of redbaiting and anti-Semitism.
"It was a cultural holocaust, a tragedy from which the industry has never fully recovered,"
says Hollywood biographer Patrick McGilligan, whose new book "Tender Comrades: A
Backstory of the Blacklist" offers interviews with 36 blacklist survivors. "It's still a live
issue because the survivors, and their children, haven't forgotten. And because it
dramatically altered the climate of movie making. Even today, there are still risky political
subjects that Hollywood won't take on."
It is not difficult to find unsettling parallels between Hollywood's self-imposed blacklist
and industrywide self-censorship today. In response to attacks by government and
religious right forces, the entertainment business has established parental-warning stickers
for CDs and NC-17 labels for films -- which allow retailers to take controversial records
and movies off the shelves -- and family-guidance ratings for TV programs. Historians
now view the blacklist as a critical event in American postwar history, a symbolic turning
point in the seismic shift from the progressive ideals of the New Deal to the anti-
communist paranoia of the Cold War...
Friends turned on one another, informing on colleagues and writing partners; blacklisted
writers created multiple fictitious identities; movie stars were forced to admit they'd been
duped by Reds to save their careers. Yet Hollywood, having obsessively chronicled the
civil rights movement and the Vietnam War, has for the most part shied away from the
blacklist... The Hollywood Red Scare was not an overnight phenomenon. The House Un-
American Activities Committee, formed in 1934, toured the industry capital several times
before the infamous 1947 hearings. HUAC's madcap investigating style made for as many
punch lines as headlines. In 1938, it interrogated the 10-year-old Shirley Temple after one
witness accused her of being a communist dupe!
HUAC uncovered no Red plots, but got plenty of ink. "The committee went after
Hollywood early because they knew it had such high visibility," says Neal Gabler, author
of "An Empire of Their Own," an influential social history of the industry's pioneering
Jewish movie moguls. "Getting Hollywood was the spearhead for getting everyone else.
It's where the headlines were."
When fears of communist influence resurfaced after World War II, the climate was ripe for
another round of Hollywood investigations. The Republicans had wrested control of
Congress in November 1946, eager to curb what they saw as the New Deal's liberal
excesses. Shortly after, the Chicago Tribune ran a breathless two-week series designed, as
one Tribune headline put it, to "Bare Grip of Reds on Film Industry." The stories'
inflammatory tone offers a glimpse of the hysteria to come: "A hard little corps of
revolutionaries who are pledged to spill the blood of American capitalists in every street
have taken over the Hollywood movie writers union... carrying out a conspiracy hatched
in Moscow, controlled by the Kremlin, feeding propaganda to the 95 million Americans
who pay money every week to see movies."
One story claimed that Hollywood was "ruled" by three first families of film producers,
including the three surviving Warner brothers and MGM chief Louis B. Mayer, "all of
them born in Russia." Another charged that the Screen Writers Guild was conrolled by
communists and named nine top allegedly Red leaders. The series had instant effect --
Jack Warner clipped every installment, while many of the unfriendly witnesses HUAC
subpeonaed were writers named in the stories.
Hollywood was already a town in turmoil. Box office (receipts) were down from wartime
highs. In 1945, the studios had been racked by labor unrest. That October, police broke
up a picket line on the Warner Bros. lot with tear gas, hoses and nightsticks. By 1947, the
guilds had split into warring right- and left-wing camps. Even the trade papers were
divided. The Hollywood Reporter warmly endorsed HUAC's mission, while Variety
attacked the committee as "under-the-belt punchers," dismissing the first day of hearings
with the headline: "Red Quiz Barnum Show."
"There was an acute polarization between the left and right in Hollywood," recalls Paul
Jarrico, an 82-year-old blacklisted writer who was spared being subpeonaed in 1947
because he was one of the few communist writers with a war record. "The right-wingers
were taking out these crazy ads in the trades, warning that Hollywood was being menaced
by communism."
David Raksin remembers seeing a paramilitary motorcycle gang roar around town, led by
beefy character actor Victor McLaglen. "They trained out in Los Feliz, wore black
uniforms and acted like they were an army," he recalls. "There were lots of right-wing
loonies around." The industry had lots of prominent communists too who made no secret
of their politics. When Harry Cohn first met Walter Bernstein, then working for director
Robert Rossen, the Columbia Pictures chief said, "Who's that, Rossen, one of your
Commie writers from New York?" "Your politics were out in the open," Bernstein
explains. "If you could make a buck for Harry Cohn, being a communist or a Republican
didn't mean anything to him."
Sensing a new publicity opportunity, HUAC returned to Hollywood in May 1947,
privately questioning industry conservatives, including actor Robert Taylor and Ginger
Rogers' mother. Jack Warner, hoping to establish his anti-Red credentials, rattled off a list
of writers he suspected as communists. In September, the committee issued 43
subpeonaes. Twenty-four went to friendly witnesses like Taylor, Warner, Ronald Reagan
and Gary Cooper; the rest to suspected communists, including many of the influential
writers and directors of the era.
Launched on October 20th, the hearings were high theatre, making headlines coast to
coast. "Communists Plot to Run Movies, Producer Says," blared the Minneapolis Star.
The Des Moines Register proclaimed: "Hollywood Crawling With Reds." Ayn Rand
testified that "Song of Russia," a wartime propaganda film co-written by Jarrico, was a
Marxist whitewash, saying, "there were never such well-dressed, happy people in Russia."
Walt Disney claimed that communists had financed a 1937 strike against his studio.
Jack Warner provided comic relief. Embarrassed that he'd named so many subversives in
his earlier testimony, he said, "I was rather emotional, being in a very emotional business."
Asked why he hadn't fired the Reds he'd fingered earlier, he blustered: "I've never seen a
communist and I wouldn't know one if I saw one." Soon he was delivering a fervent
soliloquy about his studio's commitment to good citizenship, saying of one patriotic
picture: "Every American should see it, not only every American but every foreigner who
thinks he wants to be an American." When Warner came up for air, Rep. Richard
Nixon dryly replied: "I think I can see why you're so successful in selling your pictures to
the American public."
On October 27 a planeload of Hollywood liberals, known as the Committee for the First
Amendment, arrived in Washington. Formed by writer-directors Philip Dunne, John
Huston and William Wyler to protest the hearings, the group included such stars as
Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Danny Kaye and Gene Kelly. One of their first fund-
raisers was at Ira Gershwin's house... All did not go well. Accustomed to softball movie-
magazine interviews, the stars were unprepared for a barrage of hostile queries from cold-
eyed political reporters...
The return home was less than triumphant... "We were so naive it was ridiculous," Bacall
later recalled. "When the press started to ask us questions, they had a field day." The
hearings ended abruptly on October 30th, with the committee quizzing only 10 of the
original 19 people it had subpeonaed. Politics gave way to pandemonium. The unfriendly
witnesses refused to answer any questions, even ones about their Writers Guild
membership, citing the 1st Amendment. Their attempts at impassioned oratory were
silenced by Thomas, the committee's gavel-pounding chairman. The most vocal members
of the 10, John Howard Lawson and Dalton Trumbo, were physically dragged away from
the witness stand. Ring Lardner, Jr. supplied the only writerly wit. Asked the famous
question -- "Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?" -- he
replied, "I could answer it, but if I did, I would hate myself in the morning."
To save face, Thomas said the hearings had been halted to prevent communists from
staging a massive Washington rally. It seems more likely that he wanted to avoid more
bad reviews. Variety brought down the curtain with the headline: "Commie Carnival
Closes: An Egg Is Laid." But if HUAC ended up with egg on its face, so did the
Hollywood 10, whose blustery speechifying cast them as ill-mannered ideologues. "It was
a sorry performance," complained John Huston, a one-time supporter. "They lost a
chance to defend a most important principle."
On November 5th, the American Legion threatened to boycott films made with the
involvement of (communist) party members. On November 17th, the Screen Actors Guild
voted to make its officers take a non-communist pledge. 20th Century Fox chief Darryl
Zanuck had assured his writers that he wouldn't fire them unless ordered to by his board of
directors. On November 21st, the board met and gave the order.
On November 25th, the House voted overwhelmingly to cite the Hollywood 10 for
contempt of Congress. Anti-communism gave way to thinly veiled anti-Semitism. Saying
his committee was there to protect the "Christian people of America," HUAC member
John Rankin read a list of Hollywood 10 supporters, saying "Another one was Danny
Kaye, we found out his real name was David Daniel Kaminsky... One calls himself
Edward G. Robinson. His real name is Emmanuel Goldenberg. Another one here calls
himself Melvyn Douglas, whose real name is Melvyn Hesselberg." (Douglas' wife,
California congresswoman Helen Gahagan Douglas, was one of only 17 House members
to vote against the contempt citations).
News of the citations came as 50 industry leaders met behind closed doors at the Waldorf
Astoria Hotel in New York. All the legendary moguls were there: Louis B. Mayer,
Loews' Nicholas Schenck, Jack Warner, Samuel Goldwyn, RKO's Dore Schary,
Paramount's Barney Balaban, 20th Century Fox's Joe Schenck. Also on hand,
significantly, was the Motion Picture Assn. of America's new special counsel, former
Secretary of State James Byrnes, who assured the studio brass that the government
wouldn't stand in their way if they fired the 10...
Despite the misgivings of Goldwyn and Schary, the group unanimously adopted a
resolution, known as the Waldorf Statement, which deplored the actions of the 10 and said
that the studios would no longer knowingly employ any communists. It was the official
beginning of the blacklist. Within days, all studio-employed members of the Hollywood
10 were fired. Everyone ran for cover. Jack Warner telegrammed his distribution chief,
eager to know how Danny Kaye and John Garfield's theatre bookings were holding up...
The 10 took their case to the Supreme Court, which refused to hear their appeal. In 1950,
they went to prison, to serve one-year sentences. Two of the writers, Lardner and Lester
Cole, were sent to Danbury Prison, where they were joined by HUAC Chairman Thomas,
serving time on a payroll padding charge...
Eventually hundreds of film and TV writers, directors and actors suffered the same fate,
forced to leave the country or work under false names. Except for some film noir and
low-budget thrillers, many penned by blacklisted writers, 1950's-era Hollywood movies
were noticeably bland and inoffensive. "The spirit went out of the system," says Jarrico,
who was blacklisted for 17 years and moved to Europe. "It was the difference between
films like 'Casablanca' in the '40s versus 'Pillow Talk' in the '50s. There was a pall of fear
over Hollywood; people were scared to make movies that said something." Some film
historians believe that legacy remains today... For blacklist survivors, the most difficult
decision often involves whom to forgive and what to forget...
SOURCE: These excerpts were derived from the CALENDAR Magazine of the Sunday, 19 October,
1997 issue of the Los Angeles Times, Orange County Edition. The author, Patrick Goldstein, is a
regular contributor to Calendar. This article is reprinted here because it is in the national interest
of the American people.
(WFI EDITOR: To this day, people in the entertainment industry in Hollywood
look over their shoulder before uttering the name, "Orson Welles." )
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