Toon: Said the Cat, We're All Mad Here

This week's cartoons comprise a triptych of sorts.

Black Lives Matter Protests in Madison turned violent last week after the arrest of a Black male who brought a bullhorn and a baseball bat into a downtown restaurant and allegedly demanded free food. This was not an arrest in which a Black man was killed; but force was used, and video was shared on social media and tempers flared.

The protesters engaged in quite a lot of destruction of property — and there was absolutely no incidence of boogaloo droogs this time — windows broken at the capitol, molotov cocktails thrown into buildings, and two statues were torn down.

Protesters removed two Capitol statues from their pedestals, WPR reported: “the Forward statue, located on the west entrance of the Capitol at the end of State Street, and a statue of Col. Hans Christian Heg, located on the east entrance of the Capitol at the King Street corner of the square…. Protesters took the Heg statue and dumped it in Lake Monona, almost a half-mile from where it was toppled. And the Forward statue “as of early Wednesday morning, was about a block from the state Capitol in the middle of the street.”

We don't have monuments to Confederate generals in this state. "Forward" was a replica of an 1895 statue by Jean Pond Miner Stoneman of a woman gesturing in the direction of the state motto. The original was purchased by women's suffrage organizations and "presented to the state of Wisconsin on behalf of the women's suffrage movement." The copper statue was replaced in 1996 with a bronze one and moved to a museum. The replica was a frequent rallying spot for protests during the Scott Walker administration.

Far from being a slave-owner, Hans Christian Heg was a leader of a citizen militia that worked to thwart slave catchers. When the Civil War broke out, he was appointed colonel in charge of the largely Scandinavian 15th Wisconsin infantry, seeing action in Kentucky and Tennessee. After pursuing a retreating Confederate unit to Chickamauga, Georgia in September, 1863, he was fatally wounded by a shot to the abdomen.

But perhaps more to the interests of the spokesperson for the protesters, Heg was State Prison Commissioner in 1859, pushing for vocational training rather than the punishment of prisoners. I think that's actually one of the demands of this week's protesters. Too bad they never bothered to learn the history of the statue before tearing it down, beheading it, and dumping it in Lake Monona.

The protesters' spokesperson apparently had little to say about the Heg statue, which was a gift from the Norwegian Society of America in 1925, around the time that Confederate statues were spreading across Dixie like kudzu. Instead, she focused her contempt on Ms. Forward:

“We’re not moving forward, we’re moving backwards,” said Ebony Anderson-Carter. “This (statue) doesn’t need to be here until we’re ready to move forward.”
Anderson-Carter says she and the other protesters want to see something done about racial injustice in the state, and speak with the state’s Black youth.
“The Capitol is where we solve problems, and nobody’s coming here to solve problems,” said Anderson-Carter.

Statues can be repaired and replaced. But not all of the damage Tuesday night was to inanimate objects. I'll have more on that on Thursday.

Memorial Day 1920

Saluteback Saturday presents a handful of Memorial Day cartoons from 100 years ago.

"The Day of Memories" by Bob Satterfield for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. May 30, 1920

Before being moved to the fourth Monday of May in 1971, Memorial Day (a.k.a. Decoration Day) was always on May 30, which fell on a Sunday in 1920. In Bob Satterfield's cartoon for the day, a pair of gentlemen who might perhaps be veterans recall their fallen brethren from the Civil War and the recently ended World War I. The institution of Memorial / Decoration Day evolved from local observances during and immediately after the Civil War, which is the reason why the holiday was still closely associated with the War Between the States.

"Buddies" by Magnus Kettner for Western Newspaper Union, ca. May 28, 1920

Magnus Kettner one-ups Satterfield by adding a veteran of the Spanish-American War. He thereby makes himself the first cartoonist to conflate Memorial Day and Veterans' Day; but to be fair, "Veterans' Day" wasn't a thing yet. (President Wilson declared "Armistice Day" on November 11, 1919, but Congress didn't officially establish the federal holiday until 1938, and it only became "Veterans' Day" in 1945.)

"Their Day" by J. Thomas in Bend (OR) Bulletin, May 29, 1920

This cartoonist tosses in props to the fallen in the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. I've run across Mr. Thomas's work before, and only in the Bend Bulletin, so he may have been a staff artist there. Otherwise, I know nothing about him.

"The Day He Salutes the Past" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Sunday Tribune, May 30, 1920

Not to be outdone, John McCutcheon makes sure to include every American war in his cartoon; he even draws two graves for soldiers fallen in the "Indian Wars" on either side of the Civil War. Neither of those soldiers is Native American, however.

"To the Unknown Dead" by Walters in Connecticut Labor Press, May 29, 1920

Ain't no Johnny Reb in these cartoons, neither.

The above cartoon was drawn to illustrate a fictional story about two Civil War veterans finding the son of "Sergeant Calvin Hunter, Company B, One Hundred and Eighty-seventh Regiment, the New York Volunteers," a soldier whose remains were buried in an unknown grave somewhere. The lad has decided to pretend that his father is buried instead at this out-of-the-way spot in the local cemetery, and the story continues as a paean to the soldiers left in unmarked graves.

"Memorial Day" in Pittsburg Sunday Press, May 30, 1920

I don't know who drew this full-page illustration for the front page of the Pittsburg (sic) Press's Sunday Magazine section, in spite of a feature article in the same edition introducing readers to the King Features cartoonists, illustrators, humorists, and columnists due to become regular features on June 1. The signature appears to be "INN," with possibly another letter before the I. "G.A.R.," appearing several times in the drawing, refers to the Grand Army of the Republic, a fraternal organization of Union military veterans, founded in 1866 and dissolved upon the death of its last member in 1956.

"One Day that Spans the Seas" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, May 30, 1920

I was hoping to find better copies of these last two, in which the focus returns to the Great War fresh in readers' memories. Carey Orr's cartoon was identified as having been originally published in the Paris edition of the Chicago Tribune; I hadn't been aware that the Trib ever published a separate Paris edition.

"A Memorial Day Retrospect" by Elmer Bushnell for Central Press Assn., ca. May 30, 1920 

Elmer Bushnell was a versatile artist, employing pen and ink, grease pencil, and here, in an effort to be less cartoon-y than usual, perhaps a wash. Dark drawings on yellowing newsprint such as this one didn't microfiche well, and scanning the microfiche for the internet didn't improve matters, much as I have tried to clean it up. I'll have to keep an eye out for a clearer reproduction of this cartoon.

The Trial of the Century

It's Sesquicentenniback Saturday in this corner of the blogosphere; last week's post called to my attention that this spring marks the 150th anniversary of the impeachment of President Andrew Johnson.

Last week's post offers a brief summary of what happened in 1868, so I'll try not to repeat myself too much while still going into excruciating detail. Here goes.

Andrew Johnson, in Harper's Weekly, May 13, 1865

Andrew Johnson was a Tennessee Democrat opposed to southern secession. President Lincoln appointed the Senator as military governor of Tennessee in 1862, and he and Secretary of State William Seward were impressed enough with Johnson's administration there to recommend him over incumbent Vice President Hannibal Hamlin as Lincoln's running mate in 1864. Lincoln and Johnson ran under the banner of the National Union Party, for which Johnson campaigned personally (not standard practice in those days) in Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana.

His first impression on a national audience, however, did not go well. Badly hung over from Inauguration Eve partying — for which he self-medicated with more hair of the dog — he delivered a rambling, incoherent inauguration speech, and was hastily sworn in once he began to run out of steam. He kind of went into hiding after that, but his political enemies would never let him forget about it.

Just over a month later, he was suddenly elevated to the presidency by Lincoln's assassination. (Johnson was a target of the plot, too, but the man assigned to kill him got drunk instead.)

Three panels from "Bal Opera" by Thomas Nast, in Harper's Weekly, April 14, 1866

As president, Johnson stubbornly pursued a policy of reinstating Confederate states into the union, opposing voting rights for freed slaves, and pardoning Confederate leaders. This put him at odds with Radical Republicans, who favored voting, property and basic civil rights for freed slaves, and the punishment of Confederate leaders. Moderate Republicans were less eager to extend voting rights to freedmen; it's worth noting that several northern states still denied Black men the vote, and post-war moves to enfranchise Blacks were voted down in Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Connecticut.

Panel from "Andy's Trip" by Thomas Nast, in Harper's Weekly, October 27, 1866

On Washington's birthday, 1866, Johnson delivered another disastrous speech in which he managed to refer to himself over 200 times over the course of the hour. (Remind you of any other presidential ego?) Worse, he accused Congressman Thaddeus Stevens, Senator Charles Sumner and abolitionist Wendell Phillips of plotting to assassinate him and destroy the Union.

Panel from "Andy's Trip" by Thomas Nast, in Harper's Weekly, October 27, 1866

Johnson's already strained relationship with Radical Republicans was thus permanently ruptured; his veto (overridden) of the Civil Rights Bill of 1866, on the grounds that it discriminated against white men, convinced Moderate Republicans that they couldn't work with him, either. Republicans sent the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution to the states for ratification that year, and passed a Tenure of Office Act the next to shield Republicans in Johnson's cabinet from being fired. The amendment was ratified once Nebraska was added to the union (again, vetoed and overridden); the Tenure of Office Act was passed — you guessed it — over presidential veto.

"Samson Agonistes at Washington," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, August 24, 1867

Testing provisions of the Act in August, 1867, Johnson fired Secretary of War Edwin Stanton during a congressional recess and replaced him with Gen. Ulysses S. Grant ad interim. Congress reinstated Stanton in January, 1868, and Grant stepped aside.

"The Hurt Can Not Be Much" by Alfred R. Waud in Harper's Weekly, February 1, 1868.

Johnson fired Stanton a second time, choosing as his replacement this time General Lorenzo Thomas (who resembles the guy lurking around the corner in this next cartoon, rather than the birdman in the foreground, so I'm not quite sure how to interpret it).

"General Thomas Begs to Be Excused," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, March 14, 1868

During the war, Stanton had stripped Thomas, then working in the War Office, of the title of Adjutant-General on the grounds of inadequacy, and sent him to organize Black troops in the South. Thomas was brevetted to Major General after the war, but nursed a grudge against Stanton.

"Advice Not Easily Followed," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, April 4, 1868

Accompanied by a Gen. William H. Emery, Thomas personally delivered Johnson’s dismissal notice to the War Secretary. But Stanton not only refused to vacate the office; he had Thomas arrested. Realizing, however, that the arrest would allow the courts to review the Tenure of Office Act and possibly find it unconstitutional, he let the charges drop. Thomas promptly sued Stanton for false imprisonment.

"A Brace of Dead Ducks," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, March 14, 1868

Based on the mutton chops, "Forney" in the above cartoon appears to be John W. Forney, Secretary of the U.S. Senate from 1861 to June of 1868. Mr. Forney had pulled his early support of President Johnson and become a vocal advocate of impeachment by the time this cartoon was published. Johnson, who shared our current president's proclivity for attacking his critics, uncharacteristically held his fire against Forney, explaining, "I do not waste my ammunition on dead ducks."

"This Little Boy Would Persist...," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, March 21, 1868

I would presume that "Vol. 14" of the Constitution refers to the Fourteenth Amendment, which would be adopted in July after this cartoon appeared.

"The Paroquet of the Wh—e H—e," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, March 21, 1868

Congressman Thaddeus Stevens (he of Johnson's imagined assassination plot) was the House's floor manager for prosecution of the impeachment, but due to his age and deteriorating health, the lion's share of the duties fell to Rep. Benjamin Butler (R-MA). Butler, a Civil War general, was elected on an anti-Johnson platform in 1866 and prosecuted the case with enough histrionics for both men put together. "Luff" in the below cartoon of the two congressmen refers to unwanted flapping of the sails.

"Coming Into Port," in Harper's Weekly, May 2, 1868

On May 16, 1868, 35 Senators voted to convict Johnson on three of the articles of impeachment. They needed 36. As the remaining eight articles were decided, the 35-19 margin held through the final votes on May 26; enough Republicans broke with their party to prevent Johnson's removal from office.

"Effect of the Vote on the Eleventh Article of Impeachment," unsigned, in Harper's Weekly, May 30, 1868

One such Senator, James Grimes (R-IA) explained, “I cannot agree to destroy the harmonious working of the Constitution for the sake of getting rid of an Unacceptable President.” And thus the nation was spared the ten-month presidency of Senate President Pro Tem Benjamin Wade.

Johnson ran for the Democratic Party's nomination for President that year, but what support he had at the party's nominating convention evaporated after the first ballot. As for the Tenure of Office Act, Congress scaled its provisions back as soon as Johnson was out of office. The Supreme Court eventually found it unconstitutional in 1926 in Myers v. United States, in a ruling delivered by Chief Justice — and former President — William Howard Taft.

Q Toon: Great Is Thy Cravenness

Led by Merck's Kenneth Frazier, eight business and labor leaders resigned from Donald Trump's Manuafacturers' Jobs Initiative Council over Donald Trump's tardy, begrudging, and muddled condemnation of Nazis, Klansmen and unspecified radicals "on both sides, on both sides." Leaders of another council, the Strategic and Policy Forum, announced it was disbanding because Charlottesville had become "a distraction" to their purpose.

"As our members have expressed individually over the past several days, intolerance, racism and violence have absolutely no place in this country and are an affront to core American values. We believe the debate over Forum participation has become a distraction from our well-intentioned and sincere desire to aid vital policy discussions on how to improve the lives of everyday Americans."

A pouting Trump seized his ball and flounced home. (Or, rather, to a campaign rally in Arizona.)

Before he could disband them himself, the President's Committee on the Arts and Humanities  resigned en masse in a letter crafted so that the first letter of each paragraph spelled out the word "resist."

State Department Science Envoy Daniel M. Kammen followed suit with his own acrostic letter of resignation. At this point, the only reason the rest of the career bureaucrats and Obama holdovers are still in Washington is that they're still working on how to hide clever messages in their resignation letters.

The only resulting resignation from Trump's Evangelical Advisory Board, on the other hand, was New York City pastor Rev. A.R. Barnard. If his resignation letter contained any secret message, it has not yet been found. (A Chicago area pastor had resigned from the board last year over the Billy Bush interview tape.)

Prior to Rev. Barnard leaving the 24-member board, Matthew Dowd, a strategist on George W. Bush's 2004 reelection campaign, tweeted "Not a single member of Trump's Evangelical Council has resigned. We have learned corporate America has a greater moral compass.  So so sad."

The remaining members of the commission, the most prominent of whom had had no hesitation to criticize Democratic presidents, crept to the defense of Mr. Trump.

Jerry Falwell Jr., president of Liberty University, praised the president for his "bold truthful statement" about Charlottesville. Mark Burns, pastor of Harvest Praise and Worship Center in South Carolina, retweeted a link to a television interview in which he declared his support for Trump and criticized the counterprotesters. Robert Jeffress, pastor of First Baptist Church of Dallas, blamed the news media for misrepresenting Trump's comments.

The Evangelical Board hold-outs have defended standing by their man by claiming that it's their Christian duty to give Trump their aid and counsel. By contrast, that Chicago pastor who quit the board last year, Rev. James MacDonald, posted this Facebook message to his congregation:

"The greater your influence the greater your complicity if you don't call the Charlottesville rally and attack what it really is: a heinous act of domestic terrorism entirely rooted in racial hatred.
"It is the height of hypocrisy to demand that people use the proper term 'Islamic terrorism' ... then turn around and refuse to use similarly candid terms when referring to racial hate crimes."

Wait Till They Find Out About Teddy Roosevelt

Q Toon: Rick Perry

I'm catching up on a little news item that came across the wires during my vacation earlier this month. Speaking of the decision due this Thursday from the Boy Scouts of America (BSA), Texas Governor Rick Perry compared rejecting LGBT youth to not seceding from the Union during an appearance on the American Family Association program "Stand With Scouts Sunday" on May 4.

(Most reports have Perry likening support of the BSA's current antigay policy to fighting slavery, when in fact he is only citing Governor Sam Houston's declaration that slavery was not worth leaving the Union over. As Rev. Ellen Cooper-Davis noted in the Houston Chronicle, Houston himself owned slaves. Houston favored neither abolitionists nor secessionists, foreseeing that his beloved South would end up losing the Civil War.)

What caught my ear were Perry's comments on what he called "pop culture":

“[The BSA] values and principles have worked for a century now. And for pop culture to come in and try to tear that up, which happens to be the flavor of the month so to speak, and to tear apart one of the great organizations that has served millions of young men, helped them become men and become great fathers, that is just not appropriate and frankly I hope the American people will stand up and say, ‘Not on my watch.’ ...
“And if we change and become more like pop culture, young men will be not as well served. America will not be as well served, and Boy Scouts will start on a decline that I don’t think will serve this country well as we go into the future.”

It would be easy to dig up examples of politicians from the Houston's day who publicly proclaimed that America would not be well served and would start on a decline were slavery to be abolished. And while Houston's contemporaries were not familiar with the phrases "pop culture" and "flavor of the month," some would have happily dismissed slavery's opponents in similar terms.

Editorial cartoonists and Governor Perry have been at odds lately over his attack on Sacramento Bee cartoonist Jack Ohman, so I'll confess that I welcomed the opportunity to lampoon the Texas governor. But I'm not a totally unfair person. I resisted the temptation to have Perry struggle to remember that third "really."