[In honor of Warren
Harding’s 150th birthday on November 2nd, a series
AmericanStudying the lives and deaths of presidents who passed away while in
office. Leading up to a special weekend post on a very different anniversary—my
blog’s fifth birthday!]
On two reasons
why I can’t entirely mourn our third assassinated president.
Lest there be
any confusion on this score, let me be clear that my opening sentence there is
hyperbolic—I’m not in this post going to argue in any way that President McKinley
deserved to be assassinated or that his death was a good thing. Like those of
Presidents Lincoln and Garfield before him, McKinley’s September
1901 assassination exemplified some of his era’s most prominent historical
trends: in this case, both labor activism and anarchist revolutionary
movements, as McKinley’s
assassin, Leon Czolgosz, was a self-proclaimed anarchist who saw himself as
avenging the treatment of Slavic miners during the
1897 coal miners’ strike. So the McKinley assassination was historically
meaningful and offers a compelling window into its era—but it was also just as
tragic and unnecessary a killing as those prior assassinations, and again it’s
important for me to stress that I’m not trying either to make light of his
death or to frame it as a positive.
Yet at the same
time, neither can I say of McKinley’s death, in the early months of his second
presidential term, what I have said in
this space about Lincoln’s: that it was a historic tragedy which produced further,
even more widespread negative effects in the years to come. For one thing,
McKinley’s first term had featured a series of troubling and destructive
policies and actions on issues of ethnicity and race, both abroad and at home.
Atop that list would have to be the 1898
Spanish American War and especially its
imperialistic goals and effects, as exemplified by the ongoing war
in the Philippines against rebels resisting the American occupation of
their nation. But just as troubling and imperialistic was the 1898 annexation of Hawaii,
and the concurrent treatment of the nation’s exiled queen and native peoples
necessitated by that action. And on the home front, it was a horrific moment of
inaction that to me defines McKinley’s mishandling of racial issues: in the
midst of the
Wilmington coup and massacre and its weeklong orgy of violence against
African Americans, an anonymous
Wilmington woman wrote to McKinley with a desperate plea
for help, imploring him to dispatch federal troops to save her community
and city; and McKinley did nothing, leaving Wilmington’s white supremacist
forces to complete their massacre unabated.
I can’t say that
Teddy Roosevelt, the
vice president who succeeded to the presidency upon McKinley’s death and a man
whose reputation was based in large part upon his actions both on the frontier
and in the Spanish
American War, would necessarily have done anything differently in these
cases (although his dinner at
the White House with Booker T. Washington suggests he might have when it comes
to Wilmington, at least). Yet to my mind there’s no question that the most
enduring aspects of Roosevelt’s nearly two terms as president, his
consistent support for the Progressive
movement’s reforms and battles, would never have been the case if the far
more conservative McKinley had completed his second term. In both his
political allegiances and his policies, McKinley embodied Gilded Age
America and its emphases and ideals; whereas in his support for the Progresive
movement, Roosevelt could be said to have helped usher in a new era in American
life, one that challenged those Gilded Age narratives and signaled new 20th
century possibilities for the nation. As noted in that last hyperlinked
article, McKinley’s close advisor Mark Hanna
detested the choice of Roosevelt for the 1900 vice presidential nominee—one more
reflection of the differences between McKinley and Roosevelt, and of why in
many ways the latter’s first term almost certainly represented an improvement
on the former’s second.
Last dead
president tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Thoughts on
McKinley? Other presidents you’d particularly want to AmericanStudy?
Maybe it's more like you don't mourn the man's presidency?
ReplyDeleteDefinitely a better (and less inflammatory!) way of putting it, Tim. Thanks,
ReplyDeleteBen