Yesterday I emailed Larry Ceplair about this blog, and he very kindly sent this article he's written on "The year of Trumbo":
In the People’s Republic of China, it is the year of the sheep; in the United States it seems to be the year of Dalton Trumbo. Dalton Trumbo: Blacklisted Hollywood Radical, co-authored by me and Christopher Trumbo, was published in January. Hollywood Traitors: Blacklisted Screenwriters – a polemical attack on Trumbo and the other Hollywood blacklistees – by Allen Ryskind, the son of a Hollywood anticommunist, was published a few months later. An earlier biography of Trumbo, written by Bruce Cook, was reprinted in September. The movie, Trumbo, based on Cook’s biography, opened in November, preceded and followed by a series of articles by anti-Communists blasting the movie’s positive portrayal of its subject.
Why, some seventy years after the October 1947 hearings that initiated the blacklist and some twenty-five years after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the putative end of the cold war does the mention of the name Dalton Trumbo still provoke such animus from latter-day anti-Communists? It is because he and the other members of the Hollywood Ten are, along with Alger Hiss and the Rosenbergs, the outstanding symbols of an ongoing, unresolved debate in this country about national security and patriotism.
Since the Alien and Sedition Acts (1798), the debate has arisen about every thirty years: the mailing of abolitionist pamphlets (1830s); suspending the writ of habeas corpus (1860s); the mass emigration from eastern Europe at the turn of the century; the Espionage Act of 1917; the Alien Registration Act of 1940; and the loyalty oaths and anti-Communist acts of the domestic cold war. In the post-cold-war years, the gaps have grown smaller, as the PATRIOT acts have consistently widened government incursions and the immigration/refugee issue has amplified the volume.
Dalton Trumbo was the most successful and colorful of the hundreds of blacklisted Hollywood people (not to mention the thousands of blacklisted teachers and trade-union members). Not only did he author dozens of pamphlets, articles, and speeches condemning the domestic cold war, he virtually single-handedly devised and engineered the campaign that undermined the motion-picture blacklist. The publication of his collected letters (in 1970) and his film Johnny Got His Gun (1971) catalyzed the birth of revisionist history about the blacklist. By that I mean that the books and articles written prior to 1970 were mainly unfavorable toward and critical of the Hollywood Ten, seeing them as hacks, unworthy of respect for their political choices, and subversives, who got what they deserved. Their fate was necessary to protect national security and represented no loss to United States culture.
Victor Navasky (Naming Names), Nancy Schwartz (The Hollywood Writers’ Wars), myself and Steven Englund (The Inquisition in Hollywood) wrote books, published at the end of the decade, telling a very different story. We argued that the Ten had raised a legitimate challenge to the Committee on Un-American Activities and the other congressional committees and administrative tribunals unjustly proscribing members of the Communist Party and kindred leftists. We believed that the domestic cold war, which was really aimed at silencing all critics of government and society, harmed rather than enhanced national security.
We held the stage for about a decade. Then, in the 1990s, the pendulum swung back, following the collapse of the Soviet Union and the opening of some of its archives. Several books appeared, re-accusing the Ten of being agents of the Soviet Union, dedicated to the destruction of the United States. Their main indictment was that Trumbo and the others were “unrepentant Stalinists,” who had not apologized for their apostasy or praised the domestic cold war. And yet they had gone back to work under their own names and were now being celebrated!
Christopher Trumbo entered the ring in opposition, with a series of interviews, his play (Trumbo: Red, White and Blacklisted), the documentary film (Trumbo) based on the play, and his plans for a comprehensive biography of his father. After his premature death, I completed what he had begun. (Unknown to us both, John McNamara was, during this time, trying to get his Trumbo screenplay financed.)
Trumbo is, in fact, more than a symbol. He was a significant political actor, possessing a formidable analytical mind. He read at length and deeply in history and politics. He was, essentially, a populist cum democratic socialist, opposed to what he and his generation of radicals labeled “thought control.” Their challenge to the Committee on Un-American Activities, though it was, in the short run, a losing effort, was one of the first direct challenges to the cold-war state. Those challenges widened over the years and, within ten years, the United States Supreme Court began, finally, to heed their words and to begin to roll back some of the worst elements of cold-war proscriptions.
But the national security state constructed during the cold war continues to widen and lengthen its control over information, requiring every generation to re-engage in the fight to protect the rights of free speech and assembly in the United States. That is why the year of Trumbo is so significant. It follows the years of Edward Snowden and serves as a reminder that vigilance and courage are the only protections against a governing apparatus determined to monopolize any and all information.
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