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Dislocations: Transatlantic Perspectives on Postnational American Studies
USA OK? Beyond the Practice of (Anti)-American Studies
Current Anglo-American relations are blessed with the Chinese curse of living in interesting times. Politically, Britain finds itself caught between a “special relationship” with a President whose comprehension of international affairs inspires less than total confidence and European countries who are far from unquestioning supporters of the Atlantic alliance. Does Her Majesty’s Government tie itself, without reservation, to an Administration whose immediate foreign policy objective appears to be poking jabs at Saddam Hussein, irrespective of the cost in civilian lives and the effect on other issues, such as the quest for an Israeli-Palestinian settlement or does Britain heed calls, led by France, for the lifting of sanctions as well as the cessation of bombing? In the military sphere, does this Government show the resolve to resist and possibly block the American pursuit of a National Missile Defense? How does it maneuver between US pressure for an expanded NATO and the Franco-German initiative for an European force which may seek some independence from the North Atlantic framework? There is the small question of a fundamental division between the US and almost all EU countries over necessary environmental measures, with British ministers left to rue the breakdown of talks because the French inconveniently put a fragile woman in charge of negotiations. Most important are the economics of the matter. In recent years, the “special relationship” has given way in disputes over beef, be it BSE or growth hormones, bananas, and subsidies for aircraft. Now Britain faces the fundamental choice of joining the Euro-zone or clinging to the tenuous position of “bridge” between two far larger markets.
What does this have to do with the debates over our pursuit of American Studies? Quite a lot, really. It is my contention that we cannot seal away our disciplines from these issues. The way each of us approaches and promotes our conception of “America”, past and present, is in itself a political position, whether it be an embrace of the “American” mythos or system, a development of alternative or oppositional positions such as those based on race, gender, and ethnicity, or the claim that, in a post-national or trans-national era, “America” has been transcended. If such politics lie behind the debate over post-national American Studies that Donald Pease has identified this morning, they also lie behind the formation of American Studies in this country, for it was as much the product of a State-private interaction as it was the outgrowth of specific academic interests.
My starting point is the early 1950s when, just as today, the issue of a “recovered” Europe and its relationship with the United States was at the forefront of international affairs. On this issue and others in the Cold War, every sector of “private” life was to play its part in co-operation with Government. Academia was no exception. As Conyers Read, the President of the American Historical Association, declared in 1949: “Discipline is the essential prerequisite of every effective army whether it marches under the Stars and Stripes or under the Hammer and Sickle....Total war, whether it be hot or cold, enlists everyone and calls upon everyone to assume his part.”[i]
The story of the participation, and even the leadership, of American universities in the research and operations of the US Government in the Cold War has received some attention. It has been documented that 75 percent of the government’s research in “applied” sciences and engineering was carried out by private institutions. Less apparent, until recently, was the State’s promotion and support of strategically-important work in the social sciences and humanities. There was, for example, Project TROY of 1950-51, which was initially funded by the State Department as a study of how to overcome Soviet jamming of US radio but soon expanded into a multi-disciplinary evaluation of Soviet vulnerabilities and how to exploit them. The project established the Center of International Studies at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and launched the careers of cold warriors like Walt Rostow (economist, Pitt Professor at Cambridge, and eventually the Deputy National Security Advisor and then National Security Advisor in the Kennedy and Johnson Administrations). Similar stories could be told of the State’s foundation of Russian Research Centers at Harvard and Columbia and of the American Studies programme at Yale or of covert support for broader intellectual movements such as the Congress for Cultural Freedom.[ii]
International education was a vital part of the Government’s strategy to win “hearts and minds”. Indeed, even before the Cold War had become a general conflict, the Fulbright Act of 1946 had established a general American programme for the dissemination of US values through educational exchange. The following year, the State Department was involved in the formation of the Salzburg Seminar, arguably the first forum for American Studies in postwar Europe and still an influential presence in scholarship today. This overt dimension was eventually complemented by a series of covert initiatives, such as support for the new Free University of Berlin, the establishment with CIA money of the Free European University in Exile in Strasbourg, and the backing of the educational programmes of the American Committee for a United Europe (headed by future CIA officer Thomas Braden).[iii]
Perhaps the most instructive case, given its parallels with the establishment of American Studies in Britain, was the creation of the Harvard International Summer Seminar in 1951.[iv] The idea of Professor William Elliott, who was a consultant for the Office of Defense Mobilization and the CIA, the Seminar was developed by an ambitious, sycophantic Ph.D. student named Henry Kissinger. In the first statement of the Seminar’s aims, Kissinger declared:
The Harvard Summer School Foreign Students project can...[give] inwardly alive, intelligent young Europeans an opportunity to study the deeper meaning of U.S. democracy. This does not imply a program of dogmatic indoctrination. It does means that contact with intense young Americans may demonstrate to foreign students that a concern for abstract problems is no European monopoly and that the U.S. does not exhaust its aspirations in material prosperity.[v]
The problem with Kissinger’s lofty proposal was finance. Harvard was not willing to cover the total cost, and no foundation immediately stepped forward. Informal discussions, however, led to a notable letter from Kissinger to a Mr Gates Lloyd of 2823 Q Street NW in Washington, with a timetable for the delivery of more than $20,000 in assistance. Q Street was the location of one of the CIA’s offices; Lloyd was a permanent official of the Agency.[vi] With this short-term lifeline, forty participants attended the Seminar in 1951, and Kissinger launched the journal Confluence which, despite its limited circulation, became an influential publication in the circulation and debate of US foreign and defense policy.
The Seminar still faced the recurring problem of finance. In 1953, the issue reached the highest levels of the Eisenhower Administration. The President’s Special Assistant, C.D. Jackson, stepped in to ensure funding, lending his name to Elliott in letters to foundations and phoning Thomas Braden, the CIA official in charge of subsidies for private groups, ‘to tell him that I thought this was useful activity’. This time, the “angel” was the Farfield Foundation, nominally the philanthropic enterprise of Julius Fleischmann, who had made millions from the sale of family businesses in gin and yeast. In fact, Farfield was a conduit for money provided by the CIA.[vii]
Finally, in 1954 the Seminar achieved longer-term stability with a three-year grant from the Ford Foundation. The representative of Ford who handled the Seminar’s application, supported by a personal plea from Elliott, was Don Price. Conveniently, Price had joined Ford on a four-year break from the Harvard Center for Public Administration, the administrative home of the Seminar.
I believe the Harvard case is significant for a number of reasons. The issue is not simply that of Government “hegemony”. The process is interactive with “private” individuals and organisations pursuing their own interests and promoting their own values. Nor is the process simply a covert linkage of Government strategy and private actor; as important as the CIA’s role was, the arrangement was more often a dynamic negotiation between State agency, private organisation, and the intermediary of the foundation, in particular, the Big Three of Carnegie, Ford, and Rockefeller.
It is these hypotheses I bring to the case of the formation and development of the British Association for American Studies from 1955.[viii] In an admirable article in 1982, David Reynolds documented the attempts during World War II to promote American Studies in Britain.[ix] These initiatives, however, had a limited impact, and after the war, they were not a high priority of the US Government; it was far more important to establish American Studies in pivotal and “threatened” countries like Germany, France, and Italy than in Britain, a relatively secure member of the emerging Atlantic bloc. The historian H.C. Allen, a key member of the first BAAS Committee, devoted his inaugural lecture in 1956 to a gloomy survey which concluded that less than 14 percent of secondary students had received instruction in any American subject.[x]
By 1955, the limited US effort was receding even further as a series of annual conferences for educators, financed by the Fulbright Commission and the Rockefeller Foundation since 1952, came to an end. It was then that the catalyst for a permanent organisation came, not from Washington, but from twelve British scholars, almost all of them historians, who established a temporary committee in 1954. Seizing the opportunity, the US Cultural Attaché, Richard Taylor, encouraged the academics to believe that significant funding could be obtained from a foundation. So, at two meetings in July 1955, the twelve agreed on Articles of Association which established that “the purpose of the Association shall be the encouragement of study and research in the history, institutions, literature, and geography of the United States”. More importantly, the Chairman, Frank Thistlethwaite of St John’s College, Cambridge, “was directed to make an approach to the Rockefeller for certain financial assistance”. The twelve requested funding for both conferences for BAAS members and larger bi-annual “missionary” conferences for schoolteachers as well as university lecturers, publication of lengthy articles, possibly in a journal, an index of resources on America held in Britain, and collection of documents on microfilm.[xi]
Apparently, Thistlethwaite was acquainted with Edward D’Arms, the contact at the Rockefeller Foundation, for he received a speedy reply addressed to “Frank”. The letter was “not discouraging” but raised a problem when it wondered if BAAS had a permanent headquarters. The BAAS Treasurer, Denis (sp?) Welland of Nottingham, noted, “We cannot rush into this with quite the abandon that Dick [Taylor] at first suggested (acquiring mansions in the country, etc.) but perhaps we should not push it too far into the future in our plans”. BAAS was in a Catch-22 situation: it could not establish a headquarters without an endowment but Rockefeller could only provide a grant to an organisation which already had offices.[xii]
By March 1956, as the Committee met at the first BAAS Conference at Selwyn College, Cambridge, it had all but given up on Rockefeller and was desperately pursuing informal contacts with the Ford and Nuffield Foundations. There was even talk of “self-help through individual universities”, notably Manchester. Now, however, Thistlethwaite mentioned that one or two members of the Committee had heard from the new Cultural Attaché, Myron Koenig, “that there was some possibility of financial support for the Association from US governmental sources”. Two days later, Koenig, who conveniently was a historian of the United States and was attending the Selwyn conference, told an emergency Committee meeting that “he was anxious to help in every possible way, and this desire was shared by other colleagues in the American Embassy”. The Embassy “clearly realized that assistance rendered to the Association by a government might be interpreted as a ‘propaganda’ activity, or might be unfortunate in other ways”; however, it was willing to transfer “part or all” of its funds for cultural purposes for 1956-57 to BAAS. The range of the possible grant was from $5,000, which could be renewable, to a “one-shot” $100,000 which the Association could use as an endowment.[xiii]
Both sides eagerly put forth their ideas for using the money. Koenig was “strongly in favour of large-scale conferences”; the BAAS officers were cautious, replying that this was not possible in 1957 but might be attempted for 1958. Meanwhile the BAAS Secretary, Marcus Cunliffe of Manchester, confirmed that Koenig’s offer was separate from another statement, made by the Cultural Attaché earlier in the day, that the Embassy might provide an earmarked grant for the compilation of the Index of Sources on American Studies in the United Kingdom. Koenig further confirmed, “No strings would be attached [to any large-scale aid]; the Association would be free to use the money in whatever ways it thought best, so as to avoid all semblance of ‘interference’ by the US government.”[xiv]
Further promotion of the Association followed. In April, Cunliffe produced the first Bulletin of BAAS, including HC Allen’s gloomy inaugural on the sparse provision of American Studies in Britain, and sent a copy to Koenig. Three weeks later, the New York Times published a lengthy article, “British Libraries Held Lacking Collections for Studies of US; Some ‘Astonishingly Bad’ Says Report of Association Formed to Push Project; Information Service Offers Help”; the two-column piece was a paraphrase of the Bulletin and the note that the US Embassy had offered to help with provision of books and microfilms. In May, Koenig agreed with Thistlethwaite, Cunliffe, and H.C. Allen the terms for the $20,000 grant for preparation of the Index, hiring five full-time researchers for one year.[xv]
It was obvious that Washington, whether prompted by Koenig or on its own initiative after the apparent demise of the Rockefeller negotiations, was taking quick action. Yet here the problem of private “autonomy” arose. Thistlethwaite was worried, despite Koenig’s assurances, that acceptance of a large grant would identify BAAS as an unofficial agency of the US Government. Within weeks, he was writing Cunliffe and another Committee member, Max Beloff, about the “astounding and alarming proposal”:
I am increasingly inclined to look this gift horse in the mouth. Oh! For a private angel! And yet it would be a considerable responsibility to turn down the means of getting ourselves so comfortably established.[xvi]
Fortunately for BAAS, there had been another twist in the tale. Edward D’Arms, on a tour of Europe in May, met Thistlethwaite and offered a possible solution to BAAS’s lack of a headquarters. The opening was the interest of the Commonwealth Fund, whose Warden was a member of the BAAS Committee, in providing grants of $200 to universities to improve their library facilities in American Studies. D’Arms indicated that if the Commonwealth Fund could deliver the book programme and provide BAAS with office space in its headquarters, Harkness House, this could be the lever for a three- to five-year grant. The suggestion, perhaps far from coincidentally, came at the same time that Koenig was agreeing the $20,000 assistance for the Index.[xvii]
Upon his return to New York, D’Arms prompted Thistlethwaite further with a letter: “If your discussions do reach a point where it is possible to formulate a program for the next few years during the summer months, it would be helpful to us if we could get some indication of your general thinking.” He hinted that the work of the German Association for American Studies, which had just received $30,000 from Rockefeller, was “proceeding well but not spectacularly”. Less subtly, he concluded, “Have you made any progress in your talks with Gorley Putt [the Warden of the Commonwealth Fund]?” Thistlethwaite, prompted by the Committee, did not pursue the Commonwealth Fund option but tried once more to get Rockefeller to finance some overheads, “making a grant to the Association for a limited period of, say, not more than three years” for conference promotion and secretarial expenses. Clearly, there was still some way to go in negotiations.[xviii]
The breakthrough came in the autumn of 1956, fostered by two fortuitous circumstances. First, Thistlethwaite took up a Visiting Lectureship at the University of Pennsylvania and also lectured occasionally at Princeton, in the vicinity of D’Arms’ home. By November, regular communication between the two men established that BAAS’s mistake was an excess of caution: “The Rockefeller Foundation are unlikely to give us any money unless they are convinced that we are the controlling monopoly in American Studies in Britain and we have an aggressive, and almost totalitarian programme stretching out over the years....Our present piece-meal plans, by themselves, do not appear to be enough.” D’Arms repeated that Rockefeller would not give money for overheads but offered a loophole of using “money for this purpose which had been granted for conferences” if Rockefeller were “convinced that such conferences were part of this broad, all-embracing programme”. Most significantly, D’Arms, “very sympathetic as always”, arranged that Thistlethwaite come up to Princeton for a weekend so the two men could “draft an application which the Foundation may find attractive”.[xix]
Thistlethwaite’s Princeton trip came after a second, somewhat perverse, stroke of luck. In early November, Britain, allied with France and Israel, had invaded Egypt in the Suez War. The US not only refused to support the British operation but intervened, with economic pressure, to force a cease-fire and humiliating British withdrawal. Anti-American feeling in Britain reached fever pitch: the US was blamed not only for the cessation of military operations but for the petrol crisis, caused by the blockage of the Suez Canal and damage to oil pipelines, that had resulted in rationing. There was even speculation that the rift would threaten NATO.
So, when Thistlethwaite and D’Arms discussed the draft BAAS submission at the end of November, the Rockefeller representative was ready “to talk turkey about actual amounts of money”. Incredibly, D’Arms suggested a five-year grant with a planning figure of $100,000 a year. This would finance 25 travel grants for established scholars and postgraduates, purchase of microfilms, and support of major conferences. In addition, the large grant would allow “say, $3,000/year of office expenses [to] be buried in it”. Thistlethwaite was so taken aback by the scale of the proposal that he could only find ways to spend $70,000 per year. He noted cogently to Herbert Nicholas, the Acting Chairman of BAAS, “I am inclined to think that Suez has had something to do with this sudden pressure.”[xx]
Even more striking was D’Arms reaction when the Committee, predictably, “passed...through the familiar phases of delirious delight, incredulity, and dismay which attend the prospect off dollar grants running into six figures”. The BAAS officers, still focused on a programme for acquisition of books and microfilms and a limited number of research grants, balked at the commitment to holding large-scale conferences and quibbled over the “concealed” funding for administration. Thistlethwaite prepared a revised memorandum for his conversation but “to his astonishment” learned from D’Arms in January 1957 that Rockefeller had sanctioned a grant of $150,500, to be spread over five years. A subsequent meeting in London in March between D’Arms and seven Committee members hammered out the details, notably that BAAS could devote between 5 and 10 percent of the grant to administrative expenses, and BAAS finally obtained rent-free office space in the Commonwealth Fund’s Harkness House.[xxi]
There would be a frustrating aftermath, as technicalities over BAAS’s incorporation and tax status (a problem solved by giving the money to Manchester University to administer on behalf of the Association) delayed the formal start of the grant until 1958. BAAS then acted quickly. The first research grants were announced in May, including one to a graduate student named David Adams. When another graduate student declined to take up his award, the Committee offered it to a candidate “who had been considered by the Selection Committee to be up to standard”, one Malcolm Bradbury.[xxii] The first “missionary” conference, co-sponsored by the Fulbright Commission, was held in 1959 at University College, Oxford. The Index of Sources on American Studies, supported by a further subsidy from the US Information Agency, was published by Oxford University Press in 1959.
It’s a pretty good story even if, unlike other cases like Encounter magazine and the Congress for Cultural Freedom, one fails to find the hidden hand of the CIA. It could be objected, however, that any lessons about State involvement in the development of American Studies in the 1950s are not applicable 50 years later. The complex overt/covert system of American funding suffered a twin blow in the late 1960s with Vietnam and the exposure of the CIA sponsorship of numerous “private” organisations, and “official” funding through the Embassy’s Cultural Section and the US Information Agency dried up to little more than a trickle at the end of the Cold War. Moreover, practitioners of American Studies proved to be far from compliant with US objectives. The original BAAS Committee, while protecting their “autonomy”, may have accepted the role of “missionary” for American culture, history, literature, and geography, but their successors would take up agnostic or even oppositional positions regarding American virtues and policies. (These points came together wonderfully for me in 1995, at my first BAAS conference, when the US Embassy, having made a token financial contribution to the proceedings, exacted a price through the address of Ambassador William Crowe to the conference dinner. The Ambassador explained in detail how grateful we should be for American protection. A rumoured demonstration and walkout of BAAS members never materialised; however, our table made a token protest during the speech by making lists such as “Ten Movies Where You Root for the Nazis”. I believe Escape to Victory was the clear winner.)
Yet I hold that the lessons of the 1950s are important for three reasons; indeed, I contend that, learning from them, one should be led to a reconsideration of the notion of Trans-National Studies. First, it must be recognised that in American Studies, or at least in disciplines which should be part of American Studies, the role of the State-private network has had a lasting effect upon academic production, even if we have not been the recipients of largesse from bodies like the National Endowment for Democracy. I offer as an example the field of diplomatic history as practiced in the United States. A cursory glance at the “dominant” texts of recent years reveals that the concept of national security, as embodied by a triumphant and exceptional United States, has prevailed. This is buttressed by the division, propagated in the 1950s and 1960s by texts like Walt Rostow’s well-known work on the Soviet economy and Jeane Kirkpatrick’s The Strategy of Deception, supported by CIA money, between US “good” and Soviet “evil”.[xxiii]
Moreover, the so-called “new Cold War history” is colonising other areas in American Studies. In some cases, such as the study of race, this has produced complex work which has belatedly linked the “domestic” and “international” dimensions. Far more significant, however, has been the simplistic co-optation of “culture” to bolster triumphalism. Scholars who appear to have no cognizance of Raymond Williams, Edward Said, or even Donald Pease issue proclamations such as, ‘In the 1990s Europe remained culturally as attached to the US as it had ever been; as measured in everything from the popularity of American movies and television programs to the increase in sales of Coke in Central and Eastern Europe.’ Such statements echo the sentiments of Henry Nash Smith, who lectured at the first Salzburg Seminar on American Studies in 1947, ‘It has restated concretely the ideal, the potential unity (not of course the homogeneity) of Occidental culture.’[xxiv]
Second, this role of the State in the past should give us serious pause when considering statements about the demise of the State in the American Studies of the present. Paul Giles, in a seminal article in 1998 on “Virtual Americas”, extended the thesis of Frederic Jameson that the idea of nation is “merely a relational term for the component parts of the world system” with the assertion, “It is not that nationalism will simply disappear in the twenty-first century, any more than Christianity has disappeared in the twentieth; but its capacity to operate as a fundamental social principle will be seriously diminished.” Intriguingly Giles makes no reference to the State, apart from its implied presence in the disclaimer that his analysis is...
....distinct from more empiricist considerations of the political and economic relationship between America and Europe....It is not, however, with an analytic reading of the “real” America that I am primarily concerned here....The issue is one of “routes” rather than “roots”, problematizing national boundaries through the dynamics of exchange rather than seeking to reify their essential contours.[xxv]
Yet it is apparent to me that the “essential contours”, if one defines that through ideology and culture as well as “traditional” markers of politics, economy, and military strength and the geophysical conception of “boundaries”, of the US State have not disappeared. Indeed, it is the State which tries to channel, organize, and contain disparate movements within a “national” framework. Here, I must differ from Donald Pease’s excellent presentation[xxvi] on three grounds. First, far from reaching once again an “end of ideology”, we are witnessing a virulent resurgence of an exceptionalist American ideology posing as the universal defence of freedom. Second, while I acknowledge the importance of trans-national corporations in this process of defining culture as well as economics, there are important political and cultural structures which lie beyond the TNCs. Third, we must go beyond the “revisionist” critique in American Studies by moving beyond the economic sphere: the continuing dispute with Iraq is not just about oil, the near-maniacal US policy in Colombia cannot be explained solely by economic interest.
Whatever the impact of globalisation, it is the US State that has ensured the continuing sanctions and now possibly the renewed attempts at a coup in Iraq, the billion-dollar intervention in Colombia, the dominant position in the world economy through “national” institutions such as the Federal Reserve and its influence over “international” bodies including the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Trade Organization, the frustration of some meaningful agreement on global environmental measures. (For now, I’ll forego consideration of the first pronouncement of the Bush-led State, re-imposing the ban on support for any US organisation offering abortion counseling overseas.) If diplomatic historians do a disservice by narrowing our focus to a succession of handshakes between Presidents and Prime Ministers, we offer no remedy by erasing that image altogether.
When the State is re-incorporated into our analysis, it leads not only to a fundamentally different concept of America. Giles concludes, for example, “From this point of view, America is valuable not for what it might be in itself, but for the interference it creates in others.”[xxvii] I daresay, given my focus upon the history of US covert operations, that my reading of American “interference” is not quite so positive.
Third, consideration of the State does not mean that the way forward lies simply in taking up a position of opposition, in effect inverting the stance of the BAAS Committee of the 1950s. As emotionally edifying as it may be to compare President Eisenhower with Elmer Fudd (You’ll notice the two were never photographed together. Coincidence? I don’t think so), launch into a tirade against Dubya, or rail against The Eternal Evil that is Tom Hanks, our focus is still fixed upon the United States. It does little good to reveal the myth of the “special relationship” if one has no alternative to it, has no effect to snicker at the oxymoron of “American culture” if we, through television, film, and Starbuck’s, are encompassed by it. The only position to take is that of a convenient “negative” to those who prattle on about the uniqueness of Anglo-American ties.
So, if we are far from living in a “post-national” world, can we advance by being “trans-national”? I doubt it. The vision of “communities” or “exchanges” beyond the State and the nation may be attractive, but it is limited. While I agree with Paul Gilroy’s assertion that “neither political nor economic structures of domination are still simply co-extensive with national borders”[xxviii] --- indeed, the interaction between the US Government and British academics in the 1950s reinforces this --- I find the absence of the State from The Black Atlantic disconcerting. For example, Gilroy offers a fascinating account and re-conception of Richard Wright and intellectual “routes” across the Atlantic. He never mentions, however, the one event I find most significant. Arguably, Wright’s best-known contribution to intellectual life after World War II came through his chapter, detailing his disillusionment with and rejection of Communism, in The God that Failed, a collection that was fostered by co-operation between the US Government and anti-Communist politicians and intellectuals such as Richard Crossman and Arthur Koestler.[xxix] Indeed, it may be argued more broadly that the significance of African-American thought in the Cold War did not lay in the “opposition” positions of W.E.B. DuBois and Paul Robeson but in those community leaders who eagerly worked with the State to promote an American superiority over its Soviet challenger.[xxx]
No, I believe we must go in a different direction. “Communities” are still contained by State structures, operating within (even if they oppose) a framework of “nationalism” which is generated in part by State rhetoric and its collaboration with the private sphere. The question today is whether Britain moves from a focus, even an obsession, with “America” towards different structures, economic systems, and cultural practices in Europe. It is in our interest that American Studies move beyond America to the “trans-Atlantic”, not just for the reasons stated by Donald Pease and Paul Giles but for arguably more arcane considerations of political and economic well-being. We need not embrace the State, as too many academics did in the 1950s, but we must not dismiss it either. To do so seals us away during the very interesting times that lay ahead.
[i] Quoted in Noam Chomsky, The Culture of Terrori-sm (London,1988), pp. 2-3.
[ii] See, for example, Scott Lucas, Freedom’s War: The US Crusade against the Soviet Union, 1945-56 (New York: New York University Press, 1999), pp. 113-5.
[iii] On the Salzburg Seminar, see Oliver Schmidt’s essay in Reinhold Wagnleitner and Elaine Tyler May (eds.), Here, There, and Everywhere: The Foreign Politics of American Popular Culture (Hanover, New Hampshire: University Press of New England, 2000). On the American Commitee for a United Europe, see Richard Aldrich, The Hidden Hand: Britain, America and Cold War Secret Intelligence (London: John Murray, 2001), pp. 342-70.
[iv] The case study of the Harvard Seminar is further considered in a forthcoming essay, ‘Commentary: “Total Culture” and the State-Private Network,’ and a document review by Scott Lucas in the two-volume work, Culture and International Relations, edited by Jessica Gienow-Hecht and Frank Schumacher for the Berghahn Press.
[v] Report of the Sub-committee on Academic Programs, undated, William Y. Elliott Papers (hereafter WYE), Harvard University Archives, Cambridge, Massachusetts, Box 2, International Seminar 1951-1959
[vi] Kissinger to Lloyd, 20 April 1951, WYE, Box 2, International Seminar 1951-1959
[vii] Jackson daily log, 10 March 1954, C.D. Jackson Papers, Eisenhower Library, Abilene, Kansas, Box 56, Log 1954. On the Farfield Foundation, see Lucas, Freedom’s War, pp. 109-12.
[viii] The case study of BAAS is further analysed in a forthcoming article by Ali Fisher and Scott Lucas, ‘Master and Servant? The US Government and the Founding of the British Association for American Studies,’ in the European Journal of American Culture. I am grateful to Mr Fisher, a M.Phil. candidate at the University of Birmingham, for carrying out the initial research on this case study.
[ix] David Reynolds, ‘Whitehall, Washington, and the Promotion of American Studies in Britain during World War Two,’ Journal of American Studies, 1982, 165-188.
[x] H.C. Allen inaugural lecture, University of London, pamphlet in the British Association for American Studies archive (hereafter BAAS), University of Birmingham, Box 1, Folder A2.
[xi] Signund Szard, American Studies in Europe: Their History and Present Organization, Volume 1 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1958), 74-5; Richard Taylor to members of the USEC ad hoc committee on American Studies, 18th April 1955, and Minutes of United States Education Commission ad hoc Committee on American Studies, 12 May, 1955, BAAS, Box 3, Folder B6; Committee Meetings of 12 and 25 July 1955, and Articles of Association, BAAS, Box 1, Folder A2.
[xii] D’Arms to “Frank”, 23 August 1955, and Welland to Thistlethwaite, 11 October 1955, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B.
[xiii] Chairman to A. Nevins, 15 November 1955, BAAS, Box 3, Folder C1; Minutes of BAAS emergency meeting, 22 March 1956, BAAS, Box 5.
[xiv] Chairman to Koenig, undated, BAAS, Box 3, C1.
[xv] New York Times, 29 April 1956 article, and Committee Meetings of 5 and 22 May 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder A2
[xvi] Thistlethwaite to Cunliffe, 12 April 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder A4.
[xvii] Thistlethwaite to Welland, 24 May 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B1.
[xviii] D’Arms to Thistlethwaite, 27 June 1956, and Thistlethwaite to D’Arms, 9 August 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B.
[xix] Thistlethwaite to Cunliffe, 4 November 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B.
[xx] Thistlethwaite to Nicholas, 1 December 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B.
[xxi] Nicholas to Thistlethwaite, 11 December 1956, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B; Committee Meeting, 16 February 1957, BAAS, Box 1, Folder A2; Meeting with D’Arms, 1 March 1957, BAAS, Box 1, Folder B.
[xxii] The reference to Bradbury is in Committee Meeting, 14 June 1958, BAAS, Box 1, Folder A2.
[xxiii] On CIA support of books and publications, see Lucas, Freedom’s War, pp. 116-8.
[xxiv] Geir Lundestad, ‘”Empire by Invitation in the American Century’, Diplomatic History, Spring 1999, 189-218; Henry Nash Smith, ‘The Salzburg Seminar,’ American Quarterly, Spring 1949, pp. 30-7.
[xxv] Paul Giles, ‘Virtual Americas: The Internationalization of American Studies and the Ideology of Exchange,’ American Quarterly, September 1998, pp. 523-47.
[xxvi] See the paper by Donald Pease in this issue of 49th Parallel.
[xxvii] Giles, pp. 543-4.
[xxviii] See Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness (London: Verso, 1993).
[xxix] Wright’s essay is in Richard Crossman (ed.), The God That Failed: Six Studies in Communism (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1950).
[xxx] See Helen Laville and Scott Lucas, ‘The American Way: Edith Sampson, the NAACP, and African-American Identity in the Cold War, Diplomatic History, Fall 1996, 565-90.