Q Toon: Spirit of St. Louis

The government of Israel has decided to deport some LGBT asylum seekers to Rwanda and Uganda, where they face likely persecution.

In Uganda, it’s illegal – “against the law of nature” – to be LGBT, and this may put the deported migrants in harm’s way.

In Rwanda, the legal situation is murkier but there are recorded instances of harassment, physical abuse and arbitrary arrests, said Shira Kupfer, adjunct professor and head of a program for LGBT refugees and asylum seekers coordinator by The Aguda – LGBT Task Force. 

“If you deport LGBT refugees to one of these countries, you’re putting them at danger to them, to their lives,” Kupfer told the Jerusalem Post. ...

 In an asylum application from 2016, an LGBT migrant said he was raped and assaulted in his country of origin because of his sexual orientation, Haaretz reported. 

In that case, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees recommended asylum, however, the Interior Ministry refused to grant refugee status.

This is not a case of antigay bias on Israel's part. Indeed, Israel's record on LGBT rights is head and shoulders above any of its neighbors. Moreover, Israel rejects 99% of asylum requests overall. In these cases, which actually involve refugees from Eritrea and Sudan rather than the countries to which Israel is sending them, the Israeli government claims that the asylum seekers are fleeing poverty and war, not antigay persecution.

Which just makes shipping them to countries where they will face antigay persecution all the more reprehensible.

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Drawing this week's cartoon, I wrestled with the problem of how much explanation of the MS St. Louis I needed to include. I can't include links to reference material in my cartoons (well, I could do that here on line, but hyperlinks don't work as well in print).

In some quarters, the story of the ship on which 900 German Jews attempted to flee Nazi persecution in 1939, only to be turned away from Havana, then Miami, forcing their return to Europe, is well known. But most Americans have never seen "Voyage of the Damned," let alone been taught about one of the darkest stains on U.S. immigration policy, pre-Trump.

Sailing so close to Florida that they could see the lights of Miami, some passengers on the St. Louis cabled President Franklin D. Roosevelt asking for refuge. Roosevelt never responded. The State Department and the White House had decided not to take extraordinary measures to permit the refugees to enter the United States. A State Department telegram sent to a passenger stated that the passengers must "await their turns on the waiting list and qualify for and obtain immigration visas before they may be admissible into the United States." ... 

Roosevelt was not alone in his reluctance to challenge the mood of the nation on the immigration issue. Three months before the St. Louis sailed, Congressional leaders in both US houses allowed to die in committee a bill sponsored by Senator Robert Wagner (D-N.Y.) and Representative Edith Rogers (R-Mass.). This bill would have admitted 20,000 Jewish children from Germany above the existing quota.

Happily, most of the St. Louis's passengers were able to disembark in England, the Netherlands, Belgium and France, but World War II would soon envelop most of the continent. Of the 532 passengers trapped in Nazi-occupied Europe, 254 would not survive the war.

This Week's Sneak Peek

No, they're not audience members in the balcony of the TCL Chinese Theater annoyed with the A-list celebrities interrupting "A Wrinkle in Time."

European Cartoonists on World War I

Sulfurback Saturday turns our attention to some political cartoons from continental Europe during World War I. I've normally been trying to bring up the cartoons in this series at roughly the same point in the year now as they appeared 100 years ago, but that isn't always possible with European cartoons published in the United States. There would often be months of delay between their continental and American appearances.

This first cartoon, for example, which appeared in Cartoons magazine in 1918, appears to be dated 1916. 

"Their Arms" by Pierre Falke in Le Rire,Paris. 1916?

You'll find right away that not all humor necessarily translates well to English. I took seven years of French in school and college, and I don't know of anything inherently funny in "Je vous donnerai ma bouteille de vitriol." Use of vitriol, a.k.a. sulfuric acid, as a weapon has always been the territory of vengeful ex-lovers and radical Luddites; but despite the widespread use of mustard gas (another acidic sulfur compound) in World War I, I can't find any reference to vitriol being standard issue to soldiers in the trenches. The 3rd-Century Persian-Roman War maybe, but not World War I.

I've posted a lot of Simplicissimus cartoons in this series to include a German point of view about the war, so in the interest of getting to some other countries, I'll limit myself to one German cartoon today. Gustav Brandt, drawing for the staid Kladderadatch of Berlin, assays to base a pun on his country's U-boat blockade of Great Britain. (At least, I assume the original German caption has a pun in it somewhere; there is no beginning "U" in "Ich bin verbraucht.")

"The Ruler of the Waves" by Gustav Brandt in Kadderadatch, Berlin.

Beatty, by the way, was Admiral of the British Fleet, First Earl David Richard Beatty. Brandt's cartoon is not a particularly good likeness; there is a bust of Beatty at Trafalgar Square.

"Uncovering of War Objects" in Nebelspalter, Zurich. 

Nebelspalter tended to support the Central Powers in World War I, but this cartoon includes a German and an Austrian in the foreground of the cartoon as well as French, Italian, British and Russian leaders, all hesitant to unveil their goals for the war. The absence of any American suggests this cartoon dates from before the U.S. declaration of war in 1917. It must have been drawn after Italy, here represented by little Victor Emmanuel III (right of center), entered the war in April, 1915.

"President Wilson, Peace Angel" in Hollandsche Revue, January or February, 1918?

Continuing with another cartoon from a neutral country, I suppose this cartoon from the Netherlands probably first appeared upon U.S. entry into the war in 1917, rather than the date I've put in the cut line.

"Fine alla ... Fine!" by Gabriele "Rata Langa" Galanta in L'Asino, Rome, October 21, 1917

From Italy come three strongly anti-German cartoons. Gabriele Galanta's anticolonialist sympathies had put him at odds with his fellow co-founder of L'Asino, Guido Podrecca, and with the Italian government during the Italo-Turkish war of 1911; but his liberal views led him to favor Italy's siding with democratic France over imperial Germany and Austria, and to produce one cartoon after another against "la barbarie teutonica."

L'Asino's opposition to fascism, however, meant that their magazine would not be around to comment on World War II.

"Il Risultato Finale Rimane Invariato" by Tonv (?) in Il 420, Florence, Italy, January, 1918

Il 420, on the other hand, fully supported Mussolini before and during WWII, but that's getting way ahead of the scope of this blog post. I haven't been able to find anything out about their cartoonist, who appears to have signed his work "Tonv"; googling "420" brings up a lot of material about stuff completely unrelated to the Italian weekly magazine.

Update: "Tony" was the pen name of cartoonist Giove Toppi. --PB  

The banners I can make out behind the Kaiser in the above cartoon read "Death to the Kaiser" and "Mutiny"; it was in January, 1918 that Entente media were reporting dissent and rebellion among the German people.

"Qui Glace il Re Dei Cuochi..." by Tonv in il 420, Florence, January, 1918

During a conference with the German press in January 1918, Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg was asked to address the fear that there would be no food in Germany by May of that year. Hindenburg reportedly dismissed those concerns, saying, "My reply is that by next April I shall be in Paris." His boast was met with scorn and ridicule in the Entente press; several American and British cartoonists dubbed it an April Fool's joke on Hindenburg.

Moving on to the situation in Russia, we first have this Polish cartoon, published in exile in Moscow:

"No, My Dear..." in Mucha, Moscow, January, 1918

Apparently, Turkish humor completely flouts the idea that brevity is the soul of wit. The Russian cossack is crushed under a rock labeled "Germany"; the Turk over the horizon explains in detail why he's laughing at the Entente powers trying to lift it. (Is the one in blackface supposed to be American?)

"Hey!..." in Karagnios, Constantinople (Istanbul), January or February 1918

The Russian cartoonists of Novy Satirikon were no less critical of their domestic situation, but considerably more succinct.

"Defenders of the Revolution" in Novy Satirikon, Petrograd (St. Petersburg), 1917

The Bolsheviks were in charge in St. Petersburg, but not without challenge from Mensheviks and liberals in the capital and tsarist loyalists in the steppes.

"Русская жопа" in Novy Satirikon, January, 1918

I'm told that in a Russian fable, a donkey can't decide between two masters and starves to death. It seems not to be one of Krilof's fables as far as I can find (be careful when googling "russian ass two masters"); but if there's a donkey in a Russian fable, it usually ends up dead. So let's just concede that the fable indeed exists, lest some Turkish pasha show up to expound upon his reaction to it.

The Red Guards were the commies, of course; the Savage Division (Дикая дивизия) of the Russian Cavalry consisted of Muslim horsemen from Chechenya, Ingushetia, Dagestan, Karachay, Circassia, Kabardinia and Azerbaijan under the command of Grand Duke Mikhail Romanov, brother of the deposed tsar. Their track record of backing the losers in the February Revolution, Kornilov Affair in August, and October Revolution led to their being disbanded in 1918.

"At Last" in Novy Satirikon, Petrograd (St. Petersburg), 1918

Meanwhile, back in the capitalist West, let's close with one cartoon from neutral Denmark, where Peace is an angel named Fred.

"Patriotiske Spekulant" in Ravnen, Copenhagen, in February or March of 1918.

Q Toon: Our Menu Hasn't Changed

In the aftermath of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School massacre, the Florida legislature famously leapt into action to protect Florida students from the threat of deadly pornography.

And it didn't end there. Under the eyes of the surviving students, the Florida legislature went on to require the prominent posting of "In God We Trust" in all Florida classrooms. The gun control measures being urged by those students were quickly shelved because, unlike advertising Christianity on the wall, they wouldn't be 100% effective against future gun violence.

Well, to be fair, they also voted to approve letting Miss Othmar pack a pistol in class.

But let us not single out the Florida legislature for their commitment to non-responsive measures.

Republican legislators in Indiana are pushing a "No Promo Homo" bill, SB 65, that would explicitly prohibit the positive portrayal of homosexuality in schools. Ballot measures in Alaska, Alabama, Massachusetts and Montana seek to prevent or overturn state and local anti-discrimination laws based on gender identity in public places such as hotels, restaurants and stores.

Pennsylvania lawmakers have repeatedly tried to bar transition-related health coverage under Pennsylvania’s Children’s Health Insurance Program (CHIP). New Hampshire lawmakers are considering a set of bills that to bar Medicaid from paying for transition-related care, prohibit minors from obtaining gender confirmation surgery and allow medical practitioners to decline to treat patients on the basis of  “their religious, moral, or ethical convictions.”

"Bathroom bills" are still being pushed in Kentucky, where one out of every five legislators is a sponsor of one bill, in Iowa, and in Wisconsin. Yet pushback against these bills is not limited to the LGBTQ community alone; business and industry have come to the defense of their LGBTQ employees and prospects — so much so that there appears to be little interest in resurrecting bathroom bills that have already been defeated in Georgia and Texas.

They have more important things to worry about, after all.

The President is coming for their guns.

Truer Words

Yes, friends, he said this.

And they cheered.

This Week's Sneak Peek

Who could it be now? Jenny? Bob Newhart? Adele? Elva Keene's late fiancé? Rebecca from Card Holder Services?

Laughter's Grim Echo

Let's start this Sententiousback Saturday with a couple examples of the dry, preachy editorial cartoons that make up the greater part of American cartoonists' output during World War I.

"The Sword Must Be Broken" by Charles R. McAuley in New York World by February 19, 1918

Charles R. McAuley's cartoon might have been more effective if the Kaiser's sword, labeled "Autocracy," were more prominent than the one held by Ms. Justice. McAuley, who got his start at magazines such as Judge and Puck, specialized in this sort of dreary, bombastic cartoon, but won the Pulitzer prize for editorial cartooning in 1930 anyway.

"Hohenzollern, the High Toll-Taker" by Charles R. McAuley in New York World by February 27, 1918

Or perhaps as a result.

One reason for the preponderance of pedagogy is that the Committee on Public Information, created by executive order within days of the U.S. declaration of war, included a Bureau of Cartoons which would suggest ideas that they wanted cartoonists to draw in support of the war effort. These ideas were coming from ideologues and propagandists, not wits and bons vivants.

Another reason is that publishers, then as now, understand cartoons in which a brooding Teuton with a sword labeled "criminal autocracy" sits on a sack of cash with his boot resting on a slain maiden. There is no joke in such a drawing that has to be explained to them. And it's as serious as the rest of the page.

Not that cartoonists wouldn't try to slip a little levity in when they could.

"Those German 'Piece' Terms" by Magnus Kettner for Western Newspaper Union, by February 22, 1918

In case it's difficult to read the grocery list in Magnus Kettner's cartoon, little Wilhelm Hohenzollern's Piece Terms are: "Piece of Russia, Piece of France, Piece of Poland, Piece of Belgium, Piece of Roumania..." There have been cleverer puns in the history of the English language, but it was good enough to make Mr. Globe-head's day.

"It's Filling" by Harry Keys in Columbus Citizen by February 25, 1918

Harry Keys tended to have a generally whimsical approach to cartooning. His take on German diplomatic success in its peace negotiations at Brest-Litovsk with Russia and with Ukraine isn't necessarily side-splitting — unless you're Kaiser Wilhelm or Graf Von Hindenburg.

"Ding" Darling adds a judicious level of levity on the same topic. (Clearly, American cartoonists still had no idea what Vladimir Lenin looked like; but that's a decent caricature of Wisconsin Senator Bob LaFollette peering over the fence.)

"And Yet There Are Those..." by John "Ding" Darling, by February 21, 1918

Of course, war is serious business after all. Russia's withdrawal from the war was a significant setback for its allies. As far as some American cartoonists were concerned, that was nothing short of outright betrayal.

"The Quitter" by John H. Cassel in New York Evening World, January, 1918

"Deserter?" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Eagle, January, 1918

In particular, Russia's withdrawal left Romania surrounded by hostile powers on all other sides. Romania was forced to negotiate an armistice with the Central Powers in December of 1917; King Ferdinand named a pro-German Prime Minister in March, 1918 as his last gambit to negotiate peace terms Romania could live with.

William Hanny affords the Balkan country a more sympathetic treatment than John Cassel or Nelson Harding had given its neighbor to the east.

"You Did the Best You Could, Anyway" by William Hanny in St. Joseph (Mo.) News-Press, March 2, 1918

Here Italian-born cartoonist Maurice Ketten (né Prosper Fiorini) sets his sense of humor aside to draw in service of the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, one Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

"Help Catch 'Em!" by Maurice Ketten (Prosper Fiorini) in New York Evening World, by February 20, 1918

Although his work appeared on the editorial page, Ketten's cartoons tended to be droll observations on the state of contemporary fashion in art, clothing, music, and the like. You might compare his work to "Berry's World" or "Dunagin's People" if you're old enough to remember those editorial page panels. Ketten's cartoons rarely ventured into politics; he was not the sort to draw, say, ogre-ish depictions of Kaiser Wilhelm slaughtering Ms. Europa.

I'm quite certain that Ketten's call for field glasses was on the level, not some attempt to satirize a lack of military preparedness. The U.S. was kind of new to the business of equipping our fighting men to fight overseas, so a certain degree of deficiency in supplies was to be expected. But we're old pros at that stuff now, so you'd think we wouldn't need citizens to chip in to keep our soldiers in Iraq supplied with helmets.

That's all for this week's installment of World War I cartoons. And if you thought these were funny, next week's look at what cartoonists abroad were drawing will have you rolling on the floor with laughter.