Our Foreign Desk

"The World 'Do' Move" by Dean O'Dell in Dayton Daily News, May 18, 1926

This week's Graphical History Tour takes a quick look overseas to catch up with events in the rest of the world in May of 1926.

Well, Europe and North Africa, at least.

"Rolling Up His Sleeves" by Fred Ellis in Daily Worker, Chicago, May 5, 1926

That May started off with a general strike in Great Britain, to the alarm of commie-fearing cartoonists, but to the delight of their cohorts at the Daily Worker. 

An editorial in London Daily Mail called the general strike revolutionary and subversive, sparking a walk-out by its pressmen.

"A May Day Moving That Will Move" by Arthur G. Racey in Montreal Daily Star, May 1, 1926

The U.S. had a hand in exacerbating issues for British miners. It its effort to stabilize the German economy, the Dawes Plan for Europe subsidized Germany's coal industry; that in turn enabled Germany to provide free coal to France and Italy under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles. As a result of this and overvaluation of the Pound Sterling, British coal exports plummeted and miners' pay was slashed by 35%.

"I Always Bring Trouble" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, May 6, 1926

Meanwhile, working conditions in British coal mines were still basically pre-industrial. Whereas German and Polish mining firms had invested in mechanization, the British companies relied exclusively on manual labor.

"Why the Strikes" by T.E. Powers in New York Evening Journal, ca. May 8, 1926

Miners laid down their tools on May 1; the Trade Union Congress (TUC) called on all other workers to join them beginning at midnight May 3. 1.5 million workers from all over Great Britain joined the strike on the first day.

"Streik in England" by Wilhelm Schulz in Simplicissimus, Munich/Stuttgart, May 24, 1926

In response, the government sent police to escort busloads of strikebreakers to the mines and other affected industries, and posted troops at bus stations to ward off violent resistance. London's bus system was immediately overwhelmed. After a week or so, some striking workers began breaking the picket lines. Historian Jessica Brain takes it from there:

"The turning point came when the general strike was identified as not being protected by the Trade Dispute Act of 1906, except for the coal industry, meaning that the unions became liable for the intention to breach contracts. By 12th May, the TUC General Council met at Downing Street, to announce that the strike was being called off with the agreement that no striker would be victimised for their decision, despite the government stating it had no control over employers’ decisions.

"The momentum had been lost, unions faced potential legal action and workers were returning to their place of employment. Some miners continued to resist for as long as November, but to no avail.

"Many miners faced unemployment for years whilst others had to accept the bad conditions of lower wages and longer working hours. Despite incredible levels of support, the strike had amounted to nothing.

"The Sincerest of Flattery" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. May 22, 1926

"In 1927 the Trade Disputes Act was introduced by [Prime Minister] Stanley Baldwin, an act which banned any sympathy strikes as well as mass picketing; this act is still in force today. This was the final nail in the coffin for those workers who had taken part in one of the biggest events in industrial history in Britain."

"Gehnsucht" by Arthur Krüger in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, June 6, 1926

On May 11, Poland's former Chief of State, First Marshal Józef Klemens Piłsudski, launched a successful coup d'état against the newly elected Polish government of President Stanisław Wojciechowski and Prime Minister Wincenty Witos, the third administration in the previous six months.

"Polen" by Ernst Thöny in Simplicissimus, Munich/Stuttgart, May 31, 1926

Units of the Army loyal to Piłsudski quickly seized control of the major bridges in Warsaw. The Polish Socialist Party called for a general strike in support of the coup. The Railwaymen's Union brought transportation and communications to a standstill, and the government surrendered on May 14 to prevent further bloodshed.

"Clean-up Week Idea Reaches Poland" by Wm. Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer,May 27, 1926

At first blush, Hanny's cartoon appears to side with the coup, but he was actually referring to the name given to the new government by its principal leader. Piłsudski announced the creation of what he called a moral "Sanation" (Sanacja) dictatorship. In English newspaper reports:

"Marshal Pilsudski has stated that the policy of the Government immediately is for the restoration of the authority of the State and the introduction of administrative reforms, including the suppression of corruption in public life. He promises to hold a general election after the dissolution of Parliament. In the meantime he claims that only Presidential endorsement shall be required in order to enforce the law. He declares that his sole desire is to save Poland from the reaction of military operations which are not directed against the State or the people. I am, he said, fighting the Government, which since it assumed office has inaugurated a policy of defiance to the interests of the State and the army."

"Pan Pilsudki Imitating Senor Mussolini" possibly by Viktor "Deni" Denisov in Pravda, Moscow, ca. May 22, 1926

The Daily Worker gave no credit for this cartoon, so I am guessing its creator based on the style of the drawing (and overlooking the Roman rather than Cyrillic alphabet on Piłsudski's banner, which might have been used for a variety of reasons).

"Pilsudsky's In the Saddle But Where's the Horse" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, May 29, 1926

"Ding" Darling offered a different view of the Polish coup, but the anonymous cartoonist above hit closer to the mark. While Piłsudski never assumed a role as the titular head of state, he remained the real power behind the Polish government until his death in 1935.

Moving on:

"Frühlingslied in Morokko" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, May 30. 1926

Moroccan rebel leader Abd el-Krim surrendered to Spanish and French forces on May 27, 1926, bringing an end to the five-year-long Rif War (which we have been following here, here, here, and here) and the Al-Jumhūriyyah al-Rif. 

by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, May 27, 1926

Despite some early successes against the Spanish army, el-Krim’s 9,000 to 13,000 guerillas were no match for the Europeans once France entered the war in support of Spain in September, 1925. Spanish forces re-occupied el-Krim’s home base of Ajdir that October; by March, 1926, the Franco-Spanish armies had gained control of most of Morocco.

"The Triumph" by Ed Gale in Los Angeles Times, May 28, 1926

El-Krim sued for peace in April; but talks collapsed, and the Europeans resumed hostilities. El-Krim was left with no option but to surrender to the French, who promised his safety and that of his family in exchange for the safe return of Spanish and French prisoners of war. El-Krim lived out the rest of his days in exile on Réunion in the Indian Ocean.

"Abd-el-Krim" by Ernst Thöny in Simplicissimus, Munich/Stuttgart, June 21, 1926

As far as some Americans were concerned, the principal outcome of the Europeans' victory was that France could now focus her attention on her dismal economic situation. And, by the way, repaying those wartime debts to the U.S.

"A Stitch in Time—Maybe" by Cecil Jensen in Los Angeles Illustrated Daily News, May 28, 1926

Will You Be Mine?

'Tis February 14, and our Graphical History Tour turns lightly to thoughts of love!

Holidays of any sort are a godsend to editorial cartoonists, because we can just check the calendar, and thinking up our cartoon is halfway there. Is it Valentine's Day? Surely there's a job somewhere that would be just perfect for Mr. Cupid. 

Or his understudy.

"Love's Labor Lost" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Daily Star, Feb. 13, 1926

Canada's Conservative Party leader Meighen continued to woo the Progressive Party for enough support to form an improbable coalition government, making for fairly obvious Valentine's Day cartoonistry. Conservatives had won more seats in Parliament than its rivals in the November, 1925 elections, whereas Liberals and Progressives had both lost seats; thanks to a very few minor party members, neither the Conservatives nor the pre-election Liberal-Progressive coalition could muster a governing majority.

"Saint Valentine's Day, 1926" by Arthur Racey in Montreal Star, Feb. 13, 1926

As a fan of the Liberals, Hunter was happy to lampoon the Conservatives' plight. Tory partisan A.G. Racey used the romantic holiday instead to complain about The Kids Today drinking and smoking and wearing rouge.

Who knew that St. Valentine wore glasses?

"Wanted a Valentine" by Clifford Berryman in Washington [DC] Sunday Star Feb. 14, 1926

Down in the States, Congress passed a tax cut bill that was deeper than the Coolidge administration had asked for. Clifford Berryman availed himself of the holiday to depict the bill as a surplus of valentine cards for Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon.

"Valentines" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Feb. 13, 1926

Gustavo Bronstrup sent a tax cut Valentine to a happy taxpayer, and also drew valentine cards from Californians to their Governor (considering a run for federal office), from a traffic cop to a motorist (admonishing for breezing through red lights yet lingering at green ones), and the U.S. over the Senate's vote in favor of joining the World Court.

"A Hint to the Wise Should Be Sufficient" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Register, Feb. 14, 1926

Because of conditions included in that Senate bill, the U.S. never actually joined the World Court — nor the League of Nations — before they were dissolved in 1945. Accordingly, Ed LeCocq's Uncle Sam, despite his valentine to Mlle. League, had not gotten over his commitment issues.

"They Have the Exits and Their Entrances" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St Louis Post-Dispatch, Feb. 14, 1926

Meanwhile, events were building that would test Uncle Sam's isolationist commitment to bachelorhood. Italy's il Duce was a topic of several Valentine's Day cartoons in 1926, and one that defied any allusion to love notes, flowers, and boxed chocolates.

Whereas editorial cartoonists today liken our modern fascist leaders to Mussolini and Hitler, cartoonists in the 1920's and '30's compared far-right politicians of their day to wartime foes of even earlier times.

"Römischer Karneval" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Feb. 14, 1926

Oskar Garvens's allusion to Napoleon rings somewhat more true than Daniel Fitzpatrick's to Kaiser Wilhelm, insofar as the most alarming part of a Mussolini speech to the Chamber of Deputies on February 6 were remarks that stopped just shy of declaring war against Austria and Germany. Denying alarmist complaints from Bavarian leaders that Italy had torn down a statue of a German poet and had also prohibited residents of former Austrian territories from having Christmas trees, Mussolini threatened, "Fascist Italy can, if necessary, carry her flag beyond the Brenner frontier" between Italy and Austria.

"Il re bambino" in Garvens's cartoon is Italy's King Victor Emmanuel III, known during World War I as "il Re Soldato" (the soldier king). At 56 years of age, the king was hardly a "bambino"; but his short stature was exaggerated by German cartoonists, especially after the Italian government broke antebellum agreements with Germany and sided with the Entente powers.

"Diplomacy's Sea Becoming Turbulent" by T.E. Powers for Star Newspapers, Feb. 13, 1926 

A few months earlier, Mussolini had celebrated the Locarno peace accords with a public rant, er, speech glorifying war. Mussolini's tirades full of bluster and bravado against Italy's neighbors alarmed leaders across the continent.

"Showing Off" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1926

Remind you of anyone?

Carey Orr's cartoon includes a laundry list of affronts to European diplomacy in addition to the latest "Insult to Germany": Fascisti defiance of France, Corfu insult to Greece, Threat to take control of Mediterranean from England, and Threat against Balkans. 

"Some of These Days He Will Puncture Himself Doing That" by Wm. Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Feb. 14, 1926 

Hubris will get you only so far. But that lesson would only come after another nine years and another World War.

Uncle Samicus Curiae Mundi

The Graphical History Tour returns to January of 1926, and a moment when it appeared that Uncle Sam was ready to break out of his isolationist sulk.

"Down Comes That Fence" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Jan. 29, 1926

On January 27, 1926, the U.S. Senate voted 76 to 17 in favor of joining the World Court, a proposal that had been waiting for Senate approval since the Harding administration. The World Court was established in 1921 as a peacekeeping arm of the League of Nations to provide an alternative to war for settling international disputes.

"On the Threshold" by Ed Gale in Los Angeles Times, Jan. 31, 1926

Senate approval came with reservations. Conditions stipulated in the Senate bill included requiring all World Court proceedings to be public, and that the U.S. should be a party to all cases having any effect on U.S. interests.

"Everything to Lose—Nothing to Gain" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Jan. 27, 1926

William Hanny's cartoon at the top of today's post notwithstanding, opposition to U.S. participation in the World Court remained. William Rogers depicted the Court's other members outnumbering the U.S. in unified opposition. Only Uncle Sam has any chips on this poker table (they spell out "Monroe Doctrine" and "Independence").

"The Devil's Dish" by T.E. Powers for Star newspapers, ca. Jan. 26, 1926

Opposition by the "irreconcilables" crossed party lines: there were Republicans and Democrats against anything to do with the late Woodrow Wilson's League of Nations, whereas the Coolidge administration was in favor of joining the World Court.

T.E. Powers, drawing for Democrat-affiliated Hearst newspapers, discounted the Court as a warmed-over stew of intrigue, revenge, jealousy, and hate.

"Got Him At Last" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Star, Jan. 28, 1926

Drawing from a Canadian vantage point, Sam Hunter saw the Senate bringing a reluctant Uncle Sam at long last to justice.

"All Aboard" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Jan. 28, 1926

But this Senate vote was not ratification of the treaty the U.S. had signed in Geneva. Those five reservations the Senate insisted upon were never resolved.

"Bitter Bitter Enders" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Jan. 31, 1926

In 1930, President Herbert Hoover would ask the Senate to ratify the Geneva treaty, only to have his request all but ignored. The Senate finally took up a ratification vote in 1935, during Franklin Roosevelt's first term as President. The vote in favor, 52 to 36, fell short of the two-thirds majority required.

The World Court was dissolved, along with other functions of the League of Nations, in 1945, and its duties turned over to the newly established International Court of Justice. The U.S. has been a member of the ICJ from the beginning, at least up to the present Lawless Trump Regime.

✍

Uncle Sam appears in six of today's seven editorial cartoons. Come back next week, when the Graphical History Tour follows up on a reader's question about another American symbol.

Christmas 1925

Welcome to our Graphical History Tour Christmas Special! We're just about through with the year 1925, when peace, goodwill, and sobriety reigned, and all was right with the world.

"Merry Christmas" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Dec. 25, 1925

I'm going to let Bill Hanny represent all the cartoonists who updated their Thanksgiving for General Prosperity cartoon for the next holiday on the calendar. The happy recipient of an overstuffed stocking here was Father Penn, the cartoon personification of the state of Pennsylvania, and not the guy on the Quaker Oats canister.

"Uncle Sam's Dream of Christmas" by Edward G. McCandlish in Washington Post, Dec. 25, 1925

McCandlish at the Washington Post expands on Hanny's theme, depicting a serving of Plenty, a Christmas tree festooned with Peace, Security, and No Foreign Entanglements; and, at lower right, an agreement between labor and management averting a coal miners' strike. That agreement hadn't actually materialized yet when this cartoon was drawn, however.

"The Very Thing He Wanted Most" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Dec. 25, 1925

Up the road at the Star, Clifford Berryman's Everyman had a more limited wish list. To his delight, Congress had passed the Coolidge administration's tax cut, to take effect in 1926.

"Good Will to Men" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Dec. 24, 1925

Gustavo Brunstrup shared the San Francisco Chronicle's optimism that the U.S. Senate would overcome three years of obstruction by its "irreconcilables" and join Europe in agreeing to participate in the World Court.

"Christmas Bells" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Dec. 24, 1925

Critics of the Coolidge administration such as Daniel Fitzpatrick might begrudge Republicans their peace and prosperity; they could still celebrate the Locarno agreements among the major European powers putting an end to war (offer not valid in Morocco, Syria, and Iraq), and the Geneva Protocol, drafted in June, banning chemical and biological weapons.

"The Face at the Window" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Register, Dec. 24, 1925

Ed LeCocq used the celebration of "the new spirit of mutual cooperation" and "comforts of capital and trade intercourse" in Europe to point out one country that was left out: Russia. 

"The Face at the Window" used to be a common cartoon theme in the Christmas season. In most such cartoons I've seen, that Face is a pitiable, sympathetic figure, left out of the warmth, feasting, and bonhomie inside, reminding readers of the plight of the poor. The cultural references that Google up for this forgotten cliché, however, are tales of criminals, murderers, and ghosts plotting their way in.

Perhaps that's why cartoonists stopped using "The Face at the Window" as a caption.

"Besorgnis" by Arthur Krüger in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 13, 1925

A pair of German cartoons took skeptical views in varying degrees of Europe's newfound international comity. In Arthur Krüger's cartoon, Germany, France, Britain, Belgium, and Italy merrily dance around their Christmas tree, with its "Peace on Earth" topper, but Not-So-Jolly St. Nicholas worries that they are about to carelessly kick the whole thing over. In an age when candles, not LED lights, lit up the Christmas tree, knocking the tree over was liable to get it considerably too lit up.

"Der Untaugliche Nussknacker" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 27, 1925

Werner Hahmann's Angel of Peace found the League of Nations (Völker Bund) not up to the task of cracking Disarmament (Abrüstung). 

These German cartoonists in the 1920's really were a bunch of sour pusses. It's as if they knew they were between the Wars.

"In the Hollow of His Hand" by Jesse Cargill for King Features Syndicate, ca. Dec. 24, 1925

Returning to America, I'm not sure what to make of Santa Claus holding the globe in the hollow of his hand. Does Jesse Cargill's Santa Claus look as annoyed to you as he does to me? He almost looks like he's getting ready to throw it at someone.

"Aw-w, There Ain't No Santa Claus" by Leslie Rogers in Chicago Defender, Dec. 26, 1925

There's no mistaking Leslie Rogers's intentions. Rogers's cartoon for the African-American newspaper the Chicago Defender ran alongside an editorial decrying the lynching in Clarksdale, Mississippi of Lindsey Coleman after a jury had acquitted him of murder charges. This while southern Senators were successfully filibustering the Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill for the third consecutive Congress.

"The Night Before Christmas" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Star, Dec. 24, 1925

Meanwhile, in Canada, the Progressive and Liberal Parties had both lost seats to the Conservatives in October elections, but not enough of them for the Conservatives to have a majority. Robert Forke's third-place Progressives had lost 36 of their previous 58 seats in Parliament, but held the balance of power between William Mackenzie King's Liberals, with whom they were more ideologically inclined, and Arthur Meighen's Conservatives.

"The Spirit of a White Christmas" by James Fitzmaurice in Vancouver Daily Province, Dec. 24, 1925

Shunting politics aside, James Fitzmaurice gets us back to some Christmas Spirit. The cartoon's "Mr. Citizen" had finished his shopping, subscribed to the newspaper's charitable fund (charity drives were a common newspaper practice at Christmastime), and apparently had a couple of libations he doesn't want to talk about. 

"Minus Whiskers and Reindeer" by Roy James in St. Louis Star, Dec. 24, 1925

Roy James noted that Santa was not the only one doing the heavy lifting for the holiday. 

"The Annual Daze" by Chester Gould in Chicago Evening American, ca. Dec. 25, 1925

The editorial cartoons of Chester Gould, later creator of "Dick Tracy," have appeared here before. This cartoon predates the pointy-chinned copper by about five years, and seems at first glance to be a light-hearted little gag about office employees not having their minds on their work between Christmas and New Year's.

Then one notices the little dingbat in the lower left corner. What Lincoln getting shot has to do with anything else in Gould's cartoon is completely beyond me.

So let us wrap up this week's Graphical Holiday Tour with a simple Christmas card with no weirdness, politics, faces at windows, or diareses

"Merry Christmas to Our Readers" by J.T. Alley in Commercial Appeal, Memphis Tenn., Dec. 25, 1925

And likewise to mine.

Labor Daze

In honor of the last holiday weekend of the summer, today's Graphical History Tour celebrates Labor Day, 1925.

"His Day" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Register, Sept. 7, 1925

The holiday fell on September 7 that year, so most of today's cartoons were published on that date. We start with this cartoon by the young man filling in for Jay Norwood Darling during Ding's illness. Old Man Work here graciously permits Organized Labor to join The Public on their way to some picnic grounds.

"Labor Day" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Sept. 7, 1925

John McCutcheon's Uncle Sam wishes American Labor a sixteen hour day of rest and recreation.

Come those other eight hours, I presume, American Labor was expected to get right back to work.

These first two cartoons do point out that Labor Day was finally a chance for Dad to get out and enjoy some time with his family. Paid vacation was not a thing for most workers a century ago; the "family summer vacation" typically was just for Mom and the kids. Dad stayed behind to keep punching the clock at work every day.

"The Spirit of Confidence" by Dean O'Dell in Dayton Daily News, Sept. 7, 1925

Dean O'Dell's Uncle Sam and American Labor engage in some discreet petting while the heady fumes of prosperity and peace waft from picturesque smokestacks.

"The Giant of Progress" by Tom Foley in Minneapolis Star, Sept. 7, 1925

I'm wondering at what point Tom Foley or his editorial page editor decided that his cartoon needed to be printed as a mirror image of the original drawing. Foley did not customarily sign his cartoons backward; the "LABOR" stone looks to me like something scratched onto the cartoon at the last minute.

"Rare Consistency" by John M. Baer for Labor, ca. Sept. 4, 1925

John Baer has appeared before in these Graphical History Tours in his connection to the Nonpartisan League movement of the 1910's, which had sent him to Congress from North Dakota from 1917 to 1921. After his defeat for reelection in 1920, he literally returned to the drawing board, cartooning for Labor, the newspaper of the National Railroad Union.

In "Rare Consistency" (a title possibly added by the editors of Oklahoma Leader, who routinely pasted text onto the cartoons they printed), Baer highlights the hypocrisy of industrial associations and trusts warning farmers, laborers, and soldiers against collectively organizing. 

"Well, Here's Hoping" by Bill Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Aug. 31, 1925

As Labor Day approached, the threat of a strike by anthracite coal miners loomed. Most homes and businesses were heated by coal in those days, so an interruption of the coal supply in the fall and winter was liable to have serious consequences for much of the country.

"Modest Demands" by O. "Zim" Zimmerman for Daily Worker, Chicago, Sept. 9, 1925

Drawing for the communist Daily Worker, Zimmerman laid out the United Mine Workers' demands: a nationwide contract with higher wages for fewer hours, and unemployment pay to come out of corporate profits. 

"It Does Look Like It" by Winsor McCay for Star Company, ca. Sept. 1, 1925

By Labor Day, negotiations between the UMW, led by John Lewis, and management, headed by operators' scale negotiating committee chair W.W. Inglis, had been dragging on for weeks, with no apparent progress to report.

"Hard Hard-Boiled" by Harry Westerman in Ohio State Journal, ca. Sept. 1, 1925

Harry Westerman's Uncle Sam displays a sterner attitude toward hard coal miners (and their mine operators) than Dean O'Dell's did toward American Labor in general. 

"We're With You" by Bill Sykes in Philadelphia Public Ledger, ca Sep. 5, 1925

Most editorial cartoonists placed blame for the possible strike on both labor and management; I'm sure nearly everybody was aware of what a dirty and dangerous job coal mining was and is. Bill Sykes's cartoon , however, comes as close as any I've seen to blaming the union workers.

It is difficult to read the animals' labels in Sykes's cartoon: the bird is labeled "Waste," and the wolf is labeled "Want."

"The Man Who Used to March on Labor Day" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Sept. 7, 1925

Returning to the holiday, Daniel Fitzpatrick's Labor Day cartoon raises more questions than it answers. Is the man who used to march on Labor Day driving alone or in a parade? Is he a really big guy, or is he driving the first subcompact vehicle?

"No One Has a Good Word to Say for Work" by Manuel Rosenberg in Cincinnati Post, Sept. 7, 1925

And finally, Manuel Rosenberg leaves us with some deep thoughts about justification through work.

I hope you are able to enjoy an escape from work this weekend, yet, where applicable, still have a good word to say about getting back to the job on Tuesday.