Awakening the Spirit of Locarno

Our Graphical History Tour, as is so often its wont (where there’s a will, there’s a wont), journeys back a century ago to check up on international developments, this time in the late fall.

"Prins Locarno en Sneeuwwitje" by Louis Raemaekers in De Telegraff, Amsterdam, Nov. 21, 1925

The major European powers reached a peacekeeping agreement at Locarno, Switzerland. A series of treaties were initialed in mid-October, 1925 for official signature on December 1.

"Got Him Going" by Arthur G. Racey in Montreal Star, Nov. 28, 1925

Not everyone was involved in the Locarno conference, however. Racey depicts Russia and the U.S. peering over the fence while Mr. Globehead punches War in the nose. Racey has helpfully written Great Britain, Belgium, France, Germany, and Italy on Mr. Globehead's pate.

It must be pointed out that the conference was strictly among countries of western Europe. No eastern European countries were invited; nor were any nations of Asia, Africa, or the Americas.

"The Real Treaty of Peace" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Oct./Nov., 1925

The view from the U.S. was nevertheless hopeful. W.A. Rogers tended to be skeptical of international agreements, so one could perhaps interpret this cartoon to suggest the possibility that the Locarno agreement might fall short of a "real treaty of peace"; he seats Poland at the table even though Poland was not represented at the conference.

You may recall where World War II was started.

"Inside the Breakwater" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Nov. 29, 1925

Nelson Harding's cartoon acknowledged that the agreement would not bring an end to war, but believed that it would keep war from European shores.

"Hier Stehe Ich" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Nov. 8, 1925

Arthur Johnson meant the above cartoon, drawn sometime around Reformation Day, depicting German Chancellor Hans Luther quoting Martin Luther, as a rebuke of the warlike inclinations of Germany's rivals. The armored knights on the right side of the cartoon include British negotiator Austen Chamberlain and French representative Aristide Briande, while the monk behind Hans/Martin Luther bears resemblance to German delegate Gustav Stresemann.

"Mussolini Furioso" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Nov. 22, 1925

I do not recognize a representative of Italy in Johnson's November 8 cartoon. Italian dictator Benito Mussolini gets the starring role in his cover cartoon of November 22 after Il Duce gave a speech in Rome glorifying war at what was supposed to be a celebration of the Locarno accords.

I may not have translated the last word of the caption, “Gottstrammbach,” accurately. Literally “God tight stream,” the best I’ve been able to determine is that it’s some sort of colloquialism in Saxony.

"De Aanslag op Mussolini" by Leendert Jordaan in de Notenkraker, Nov. 14, 1925

Speaking of Signore Mussolini: Tito Zaniboni, a former Socialist deputy, was arrested on November 4 for plotting to assassinate Mussolini during a planned public speech. Mussolini seized upon the plot — he may even have engineered it himself — as an excuse to consolidate power and imprison political rivals.

"The True Status of Benito" by "O. Zim" Zimmerman in Daily Worker, Chicago, Nov. 27, 1925

The communists at the Daily Worker labored under the misapprehension that Mussolini was somehow held by the chains of banker J.P. Morgan. This surely would have come as a surprise to Mussolini himself.

"She Had So Many Children She Didn't Know What to Do" by Edward G. McCandish in Washington Post, Oct. 31, 1925

Getting back to the prospects for world peace: Edward McCandish outlined the international disputes outside the Locarno accords' purview. Spain continued their suppression of the Riffian revolt in Morocco. French forces, while also helping put down the Riffian revolt, were forcibly quelling the Hama uprising against French rule in Syria. And Bulgarian soldiers crossed into Greece in "The War of the Stray Dog," a brief skirmish in October allegedly sparked when a Greek soldier chasing a dog across the countries' border was shot and killed.

"This Ought to Be Easy to Settle" by John Knott in Dallas News, Oct./Nov., 1925

The errant sentry and a captain were killed before the Bulgarians withdrew. Greece demanded an apology and reparations, and mobilized its military to occupy the Bulgarian border town of Petrich to enforce its demands.

"Premature" by Rollin Kirby in New York Evening World, Oct./Nov., 1925

The League of Nations stepped in and quickly resolved the conflict between Bulgaria and Greece, which Rollin Kirby* held up as proof to the doubting "Irreconcilables" in Congress that the League could act, and act decisively.

Bulgaria issued an apology for its soldiers' actions and agreed to pay compensation to the first two Greek soldiers' families. The League of Nations made Greece pay Bulgaria to compensate for the occupation of and civilian death toll in Petrich.

"Something Else Again" by Wm. Sykes in Philadelphia Public Ledger, Oct./Nov. 1925

As for Franco-Syrian hostilities, France would quash the Hama uprising by late November, capturing its leaders and bombarding Damascus from air and ground, resulting in large-scale destruction and a death toll in the thousands. Occasional guerilla attacks by the Syrians continued for the next two years, but without achieving independence.

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* Tour Guide's Note: My source credited the "Premature" cartoon to Bill Sykes, I believe incorrectly. I find no signature on the cartoon, either because it is missing or cropped out, but the style, and the copyright line included in the original source indicate to me that Rollin Kirby was the probable cartoonist.

Was Ist Los in Translation

Keep your babel fish handy today: our Graphical History Tour jets overseas to check up on what cartoonists in Germany were drawing a century ago. But first: a brief layover in the Netherlands!

"Labour en Het Communisme" by Leendert J. Jordaan in Notenkraker Amsterdam, Oct. 10, 1925

I came across this Dutch cartoon some time ago and saved it on the chance that I could use it here once October, 2025 came around. Now that it has, here it is.

Leendert Jordaan had been cartoonist for the satirical magazine Die Notenkraker (The Nutcracker) since 1909. His fiercely critical cartoons against Hitler would be published by the Netherlands’ underground press during World War II. Unlike Die Notenkraker, he survived the war, cartooning for Het Parool and Vrij Nederland until his retirement in 1961.

This got me wondering why I had not been finding any cartoons by the great Dutch cartoonist Louis Raemaekers in the U.S. press after the Armistice was signed, given how celebrated he had been stateside during the Great War. After all, he was still drawing cartoons up to and during World War II.

My guess is that in the years between the wars, isolationist sentiment in the U.S. meant that there was little interest in Raemaekers’s belligerently anti-German cartoons. Even in his home country, Raemaekers was unable to find a Dutch publisher for his 1927 collection of cartoons.

"Zeit-Ie-Wat" by Louis Raemaekers in De Telegraaf, Amsterdam, Oct. 15, 1925

So here is what I could find that Raemaekers was getting published in Amsterdam in those days (American audiences having enough trouble sussing bee's knees, spifflication, and gams without pondering the lingo of the guys and dolls overseas, too).

I will merely Yanksplain Raemaekers's joke by pointing out that "slang" is the Dutch word for "snake." Get it?

Moving on to Germany so that I may impress you with my ability to googlen sie deutsch:

"Souvenir de Locarno" by Thomas Theodor Heine in Simplicissimus, Munich/Stuttgart, Oct. 26, 1925

The major European news for the month was an international conference of continental leaders in Locarno, Switzerland. Over the next few months, conferees would hammer out a series of agreements, notably establishing new mutual borders of France, Belgium, and Germany, and admitting Germany into the League of Nations.

The cut lines in Thomas Heine's imagined photographs read:

"[Italy's Benito] Mussolini, who decided to smile occasionally at the conference."

"[Belgium's Émile] Vandervelde during a performance of The Marseillaise in the hotel .”

"[German Foreign Minister Gustav] Stresemann happily reports to [Chancellor Hans] Luther that he has been greeted by a French journalist."

"[France's Aristide] Briand striking a comma from the press release."

"[Britain's Foreign Secretary Sir Austen] Chamberlain choosing his tie."

Speaking of British decorum... 

"Selbsterkenntnis" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Oct. 4, 1925

The cut line accompanying Garvens's cartoon identifies the caption as something David Lloyd George said during a debate on expanding the British fleet. If so, Lloyd George was quoting Rev. David Martyn Lloyd-Jones in a statement that has since been misconstrued as the Welsh pastor's characterization of the former Prime Minister.

"Helden des Sports" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Oct. 11, 1925

Garvens continued his concern for dark-skinned peoples a week later, citing a French report about an American sports personality who had joined the Franco-Spanish air attacks in Morocco, where Rif rebels had established an independent Islamic state.

The tiny paragraph explaining the cartoon doesn't cite the source of the French report or name the American jock, so I can't tell you with certainty who he was. A September feature article for the Philadelphia Public Ledger by Charles G. Reinhart, however, names ten American fighter pilots, most of them World War I veterans, flying for France. Reinhart's article mentions that one of them, Charles Wayne Kerwood ("Chuck"), was an amateur athlete in Philadelphia.

"Just Can't Keep Them Out of War" in Salt Lake Tribune, September 6, 1925. Kerwood is seated under the W in the headline.

They weren't just flying reconnaissance, by the way. The Associated Press reported on September 11, 1925: 

"The American aviators of the Sherifian esquadrille, in their bombing of Sheshuan, Riffian stronghold, are reliably reported to have killed more than 100 warriors. Their bombs also greatly damaged the Riffian military establishment and disorganized the troops concentrated there."

"Sie Hält Es Nicht Mehr Aus" by Werner Hahmann in Kladeradatsch, Berlin, Oct. 11, 1925

I haven't seen much celebration of the 140th birthday of the Statue of Liberty this month, but her 40th anniversary caught the eye of Kladderadatsch cartoonist Werner Hahmann. I would guess that he used the occasion to twit the United States over Prohibition, and New York City in particular for its air pollution.

"Polen und der Sicherheitspakt" by Arthur Krüger in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Oct. 4, 1925

The Danzig (Gdansk) Corridor, affording Poland access to the Baltic Sea but separating East Prussia from the rest of Germany, was a sore point for Germans between the wars. Krüger portrays the corridor as a knife in the shoulder of Michel, the cartoon personification of Germany; an unkempt Poland urges France to join in a security pact with the condition that the knife stays in place.

“Danzig” by Emil Weiss(?) in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Oct. 11, 1925 

I’m sure this was funnier in the original German, but at least I shouldn’t have to explain what the cartoonist was trying to say.

Desperately Seeking Moujik

My cartoon for Q Syndicate this week featured the return of Brittney Griner and a character meant to be her Russian lawyer. When I first introduced Товарищ Юрист, I remarked that I had some difficulty figuring out how to get across visually that he, a fictional character, was meant to be Russian, and not, say, an American consular official.

Back when I was a junior high school student showing an interest in cartooning, my dad enrolled in Palmer Martino's class in cartooning at the local technical college for the specific purpose of allowing me to tag along. In one of the books for the course, this was how you are supposed to draw a Russian:

Detail from Cartooning the Head & Figure by Jack Hamm. Grosset & Dunlap, 1967

Clearly, Mrs. Griner's lawyer would not be showing up at her prison or in court looking like that guy.

If one looks instead to the movies, there were Dr. Zhivago (portrayed by an Egyptian), the Russian ambassador in Dr. Strangelove, (Peter Bull, a Brit), the crew of the submarine in Red October (led by a Scot), and Vladimir Ivanov in Moscow on the Hudson (Mork from Ork). None of them look like Jack Hamm's drawing, either, so let's turn back to cartooning:

"Samson et Delilah" by Pierre-Georges Jeanniot in Le Rire, Paris, ca. June/July, 1917

At the time of the Russian revolution, cartoonists' stereotypical Russian was the fellow with the gun in this cartoon. The French called him Moujik (from the Russian word мужи́к, peasant.) There are various transliterations in English; I'm going to stick with M. Jeanniot's spelling today.

"Sharpening the Rusty Sword" by John Cassel in New York Evening World, June 23, 1917

Here's an American cartoonist's version of M. Moujik.

In the popular imagination circa World War I, the typical Russian wore his hair long, and perhaps unkempt — or perhaps neatly combed, as in this cartoon by Dutchman Louis Raemaekers.

"A Poison Gass Attack on New Russia" by Louis Raemaekers for Philadelphia Public Ledger Co., ca. July, 1917

More common, or at least more durable, in the American imagination was this older moujik by Ted Brown:

"Set 'em Up Again" by Ted Brown in Chicago Daily News, Nov. 10, 1917

German cartoonist Lutz Chremberger offers us four versions of M. Moujik; at that particular moment during World War I, Germans anticipated that Russia's February Revolution would necessitate the Kerensky government withdrawing from the war.

"Aus dem Toten Hause" by Lutz Chremberger in Lustige Blätter, Berlin, March 16, 1917

At the same time, Germans had another, more menacing version of M. Moujik. Another Lustige Blätter cartoonist portrays the revolutionary Duma as a doll not to be messed with.

in Lustige Blätter, March 16, 1917 (?)

This less charitable characterization is dominant in German cartoons during World War II, even when trying to minimize him.

"Dies Kind, Kein Engel Ist So Sein" by Hans-Maria Lindloff in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Feb. 1, 1942

By the end of the war, as the German army is falling back all across the eastern front, Herr Moujik has bulked up considerably — he is even more menacing than Tsar Nicholas's plaything.

"Die Geöffnete Tür" by Ernst Schilling in Simplicissimus, Munich, Aug. 30, 1944

I notice, however, that he has lost his mop of hair. Just to confirm his new haircut, here's another from the late days of the war:

"Der Englische Koch..." by Wilhelm Schultz in Simplicissimus, Munich, Sept. 13, 1944

Contrast the brutish, balding German Moujik with one from the United States, an ally for the time being:

A Fourth for Bridge" by Melville Bernstein in PM, New York, Oct. 8, 1944

By this point, Moujik was something of a rarity in American cartoons. Russia was far more often represented by Josef Stalin or, if one was hesitant to portray Russia in a positive light, this old stand-by:

"He Hibernates Long..." by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Jan. 22, 1945

In this case, the bear is a propos; neither Moujik nor Stalin was known for habitual hibernation. As a symbol, the Russian bear goes way back, possibly to the 1500's. I do find the gratuitous "Br'er" in Carey Orr's cartoon a bit curious; but, having spent some time cartooning in Tennessee, allusions to southern folklore prolly came a tad natural-like to him.

Excerpt from "Suffern on the Steppes" in Pogo Peek-a-Book by Walt Kelly. Simon & Schuster, 1955

Speaking of Southern stuff, let's move along to our Cold War depictions of Russian folk with this example from Walt Kelly.

For "Suffern on the Steppes, or 1984 and All That," Pogo cartoonist Kelly shifted his characters from the Okefenokee to the Soviet Union for a tale drawn expressly for a comic book. To do so, he simply drew Pogo, Howland, Albert, Churchy and Beauregard in Russian costumes. He tossed in some 1984-style revisionist dialectic, a round of Russian roulette, and the occasional onion dome in the background, and Так! We're in Russia, Comrade!

"Bootstraps Gorbachev" by Pat Oliphant, July 22, 1991

By the sunset of the Soviet Union, Pat Oliphant's M. & Mme. Moujik were his prevalent image of the common tovarisch. Gone are Moujik's flowing locks, and hers are tucked safely away under her babushka. For all the reports in the West of bare grocery shelves, he and she nevertheless appear not to be starving.

I guess those bootstraps must be pretty filling after all.

Still, none of these images strike me as being quite right for my Russian lawyer character.

So let me rummage through my own cartoons for inspiration. Ah, here's a Russian couple my generation grew up with!

for Q Syndicate, July, 2013

Pish posh. We all knew where Pottsylvania really was.

Christmas, 1921

We started last week's look at Christmas cartoons from 1921 with examples from Germany. This week's cartoons are from the United States, but we'll start with this one about Germany.

"Eine Christmas Fantasy" by Ellison Hoover in Life magazine, Dec. 22, 1921

By and large, the American cartoons are distinguished from the German ones by a Yankee sense of humor rather than a lot of Teutonic severity. 

Not that the Americans couldn't be serious. The daily one-column-inch front page cartoon on the Christmas Day edition of Brooklyn Daily Eagle (often by editorial page cartoonist Nelson Harding, but I don't find his initials on this one) references the Washington Naval Conference negotiating international arms control, but it could be equally a propos today for different reasons.

"Here And Now" in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 25, 1921

Eat your heart out, Massie and Boebert!

"The Profiteer's Son..." in Life Magazine, Dec. 22, 1921

As in Germany, profiteers were a major target of American cartoonists.

I have not been able to identify this cartoonist — that worm-like figure behind Junior Profiteer is the cartoonist's signature, in case any of you reading this are familiar with him or her.

"Christmas for Two" by John Baer, ca. Dec. 23, 1921

Union cartoonist and former Congressman John Baer echoes the previous cartoonist's sentiments in this bleak holiday offering.

"Merry Christmas" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Dec. 24, 1921

Republican cheerleader Dorman H. Smith chose to accentuate the positive in his Christmas cartoon. (I'd note that he was celebrating the naval holiday a bit early.)

"Aw, You Can't Fool Me" by H.T. Webster in Life magazine, Dec. 22, 1921

Harold Webster, whose syndicated newspaper cartoons hardly ever touched on politics, here takes on the Harding administration's proposed alternative to Wilson's League of Nations, and anti-League Republican Senator William Borah of Idaho.

"Which Shall Win?" by Louis Raemaekers in Life magazine, Dec. 29, 1921

Some of the serious stuff, however, had to be imported. Dutch cartoonist Louis Raemaekers earned his fame drawing scathing cartoons against the Kaiser's Germany. Here his target, judging from the costumes, is further east.

But today is Christmas, dammit, so let's just cut to the merriment and jollity.

"Jimminy Christmus" by Elmer Bushnell for Central Press Assn., ca. Dec. 24, 1921

Well, lookie here. At least one of the items on Jim's Christmas wish list will warm the cockles of Massie, Boebert, and the rest of the ammosexual crowd. 

"Jerry on the Job" by Walter Hoban, Dec. 24, 1921

Children's hopes for Christmas bounty have long been an evergreen topic for cartoonists. Walter Hoban's comic strip, "Jerry on the Job," stars this little boy who has a difficult-to-determine job at an office where nobody has heard of child labor laws. 

Jerry looks to me to be a few years younger than Webster's Jimmy; both are old enough to have figured out where Santa's gifts really come from.

"Smilin' Through" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 25, 1921

Other cartoonists used their Christmas Day space to remind readers of the spirit of the season.

"The Merry Christmas Spirit" by Rae Irvin in Life magazine, Dec. 8, 1921

Or, if you will, the lack thereof.

"Yule Log Tales" by Elmer Bushnell for Central Press Assn., ca. Dec. 26, 1921

Daily Cartoonist relayed the announcement this week that Gannett newspapers would not print editions on Thursday, Friday, or Saturday this week or next, a surprisingly long vacation in the news biz. Skipping a Christmas Day edition used to be quite common, particularly for afternoon newspapers; I'm  not finding any three-day hiatuses (hiati? Naah.) in 1921, however.

Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Sunday Star, Dec. 25, 1921

Christmas Day, 1921, was a Sunday, so some of the evening papers put out their regular Sunday editions. Others took Monday off instead.

"An Empty Mask Without Them" by Harry Murphy for Star Company, ca. Dec. 24, 1921

Depriving the kiddies of their Sunday funnies on Christmas, after all, would have been positively Grinchy!

"From the Evening World" by John Cassel in New York Evening World, Dec. 24, 1921

From the Evening World, and from my world, too. A merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!