CONCLUSION
Anticommunism in America was a gendered affair. Those defending the American system against the menace of communist expansion understood their society to be one in which men and women had specific roles. Earning a living and running the government was the males’ function. Raising families, managing households, and keeping their husbands content was the female role. Maintaining separate spheres of activity for men and women was believed to be the foundation of U.S. society and the freedoms it enjoyed, and communism directly threatened that foundation. Individuals who did not fit neatly into these gendered categories, most noticeably homosexuals, were castigated as communist sympathizers. Thus, the images and language of the anticommunist movement possessed a gendered subtext that frequently emerged in the battle in which these individuals were engaged. Nevertheless, defeating communism proved a long and arduous affair. In the course of pursing victory, the strict gender separation all true believers wanted was altered for practical reasons. Most significant, as this study has demonstrated, women began to emerge as significant contributors to the attempt to save America and its families from the communist menace, creating in the process a gendered activity uniquely suited to the women who pursued it.
When female activists appealed directly to women, they drew on a long tradition of female activism. Anticommunist women understood that sometimes even derogatory stereotypes of women could be manipulated to convince women of the importance of their participation in the cause. Journalist Elizabeth Churchill Brown explained that her book was the “result of a woman’s curiosity, so often maligned by the opposit [sic] sex.” Using her ignorance of foreign policy as well as her gender to her advantage, she “ask[ed] questions no intelligent man would ask.” Similarly, Doloris Bridges felt women’s lack of knowledge and experience in politics often made them the best warriors. As she explained, “[W]omen don’t know when they are licked.” Consequently, they kept on fighting and could even be downright “reckless when the fate of their loved ones is at stake.” This language was echoed by grassroots activists as well. Praising Senator Margaret Chase Smith for making a “sensible speech,” one constituent wondered why it had taken so long for the senator to be forthcoming about something even “a poor nitwit of a woman like me” knew. This sort of diffident language frequently undermined male critics and allowed women some voice in the debate. Of course, it also reinforced the stereotype of women as ignorant and unintelligent.1
For female activists, however, appealing to women as housewives and mothers provided more than just a common language with which to approach potential female converts. Talking to women about these particular concerns allowed female activists to claim a special mission of their own. Who was better equipped to convert housewives, mothers, and women in general than other housewives, mothers, and women? Frequently, female activists proudly displayed their homemaking credentials as one way of creating common ground with audiences.
In describing themselves as housewives with a mission, women with political ambitions disarmed some of their critics, built a rapport with other women, and claimed a unique role within the movement. Frequently, women like Margaret Chase Smith and Phyllis Schlafly would allow themselves to be photographed performing typical homemaking tasks. They emphasized their ability to combine work for the cause with their family responsibilities. Often, the press helped bolster this image. One reporter referred to Senator Smith as “the very picture of the American housewife up in arms.” Since at the time the senator was “hammer[ing]” a fellow senator with “her implacable questions,” this characterization made Smith seem less threatening and more “properly” feminine.2
Activist women, proudly wearing the housewife mantle, also empowered housewives in general. If Smith, Schlafly, and the others could juggle families, husbands, and political work, then other women could as well. Moreover, by emphasizing the importance of household labor, these activists transformed drudgery into something requiring skill and intelligence and deserving of respect. Margaret Chase Smith, for example, frequently suggested that a housewife would know how to run the government “on a strict budget” better than the men in Washington. While such language was intended to shame the overspending bureaucrats, it also boosted the egos of homemakers.
Such appeals convinced women that they could have an impact on the political process, particularly at the local level. Through writing letters, attending meetings, and voicing public disapproval, women let their leaders know they were concerned and interested. In addition, the number of women voting increased by 40 percent between 1948 and 1956.3 Elected officials could ill afford to ignore these voters. From Houston to Los Angeles, groups such as the Minute Women and the General Federation of Women’s Clubs succeeded in turning out record numbers of their supporters at polling places. Although women had never voted as a bloc, the fear that they would haunted male politicians. Women’s potential power turned their votes into a force that could not be ignored. Moreover, as an author in National Business Woman argued, “on local and state issues, wives probably influence their husbands because women usually take a more active community interest.”4
In addition, during the 1950s, political organizers increasingly turned to suburban women for help with the day-to-day operations of party machinery. The booming economy made it easy for men to find work without relying on party patronage, thus creating a need for new volunteers. Middle-class housewives had both the time and the desire to participate. As a result, men found themselves dealing with women not just as a large voting constituency but also as political allies who needed to be informed, motivated, and appreciated. This was especially true within the Republican Party, where the Federation of Republican Women’s Clubs provided essential volunteers during campaign seasons.5
Women who did not join formal political organizations still played a role in shaping the overall movement. From the informal groups that sprang up in response to a local crisis to the newsletters printed on mimeograph machines in someone’s garage, countless women participated in some aspect of the anticommunist crusade. Their actions may not have directly affected national foreign or domestic policy, but in challenging a school board decision or trying to get a librarian fired or picketing a visiting foreign leader, their efforts provided concrete examples of proper anticommunist activity for many Americans. Regardless of whether people agreed with the action, the public associated it with the broader movement. The newsletters served a similar function. For women who did not have the time or the energy to read a newspaper, newsletters provided a window to understanding what was happening in their country and their local communities. Many of the newsletters and pamphlets promoting local events were written in an informal tone, so they provided their readers with a language for translating national issues and ideological arguments into everyday concerns.
Women did not, however, limit themselves to addressing local issues or even an exclusively female public. A number contributed directly to the national debate over communism. Freda Utley, Margaret Chase Smith, and Phyllis Schlafly participated in the ongoing discussion about the meaning, purpose, and direction of anticommunism. Utley attempted to use her own experiences to teach U.S. foreign policy makers about the dangers inherent in Chinese communism and foreign policy in general. Smith took a more moderate but no less intense stance on controlling communism’s impact in America. Schlafly’s work in educating the public about the threat of communism succeeded in paving the way for conservative anticommunist Barry Goldwater to win the Republican presidential nomination.
All of these women, whether they were active on a national or a local level, as well as the women they encouraged to join them in their crusade, espoused an anticommunism that went beyond political or diplomatic concerns. At the heart of anticommunism for many American women was the defense of their idealized vision of the United States. In this perfect world, all Americans lived happy lives in well-equipped homes. Everyone believed in God and the flag and got along with one another. There was no racism or poverty or crime. If there were problems, they were minor flaws that the constitutional system would eventually correct. The linchpin in this entire image was the family, with Mom, Dad, and children. Anticommunists feared communism would destroy that family picture. If that happened, they worried, everything else would fall apart as well. To that end, the family must be maintained in its current form.
Anticommunist women thus found themselves making two contradictory arguments. On the one hand, many middle-class suburban women fought communism to protect their children, their families, and their way of life. That “way of life” meant women ruled the home while men ruled the world. Many women believed, as Margaret Chase Smith stated, that “the first and original governor in our democracy is the woman. Woman administers the home. . . . [T]here is not a finer role that you can play in the defense of democracy and our American way of life than that of wife, mother, and homemaker.”6 On the other hand, as many discovered, defending that way of life expanded the notion of “wife, mother, and homemaker” to include not just husbands and children but their communities and country as well. In fact, anticommunists were encouraging women to leave the very homes and families they had declared sacrosanct to get involved in political activity. In their minds, their actions were both legitimate and consistent. Because communism was so dangerous, women had to join the political fight to protect their families. Anticommunist women assumed that once the battle had been won, women would go back home willingly and eagerly.
Men as well seemed to accept this female behavior as a temporary expedient. Male anticommunists eagerly accepted the help of their female counterparts when it suited their purpose. They expected that women would perform the mundane clerical duties involved in a political campaign; they appreciated women’s volunteer efforts in gathering signatures on petitions, organizing teas and fund-raisers, and getting voters to the polls. They were willing to use women when there was a job a man could not do, even if it meant risking the women’s freedom or reputations. Joe McCarthy encouraged Jean and numerous other members of his staff to help defeat his political enemy. He, like many anticommunist men, even acknowledged that the women’s work was valuable to the overall movement. He was equally willing, however, to ignore the work the women had done and focus instead on their role as wives, mothers, or victims of their opponents’ unchivalrous behavior. Rather than equal partners working toward a common goal, men sometimes treated their female teammates as pawns to be moved at will. The men gave no indication that their dismissal of their associates’ effort would cause problems or even be challenged.
Most of the time, they were correct. Women seemed not to notice boorish male behavior and to overlook the insults directed toward their efforts. The cause, they implied, was more important. If, as some women argued, men had fallen down on the job of protecting American families from communism or did not appreciate what women had accomplished, that just meant the women had more work to do. They should roll up their sleeves and get to it. After all, that was what mothers had done.
In the end, what does it all mean? Most middle-class white women did not join anticommunist clubs, write letters, give speeches, or run for offices. Most of those who did participate in some way were less extreme in their views than several of the women described in this study. Clearly, most women supported the existing gender structure and did little to challenge the authority of men. Nevertheless, although the anticommunist crusade did not drastically change women’s everyday lives in terms of household responsibilities, equity issues, or power relationships, it did have an impact on the anticommunist movement and on gender relations.
In ways both subtle and obvious, the actions of anticommunist women weakened rigid stereotypes of female behavior. Although they paid homage to female domesticity, they continually encouraged women to expand their horizons beyond housekeeping and cooking. They demanded that women participate more actively in the political system. Perhaps more significant, despite their white gloves and frilly hats, these women were warriors who wanted the complete destruction of their communist opponents. These were not nice little old ladies telling everyone to calm down before someone got hurt or suggesting some kind of peaceful dialogue. No, anticommunist women disparaged compromise as a weakness and spoke of the need for their enemies to be annihilated. They might have looked like “girls,” but they talked like men. Distracted by the fact that these activists looked like respectable women, most Americans missed their adoption of masculine behavior. By the time anyone noticed, it was too late to rebuild the old mold of femininity.
The traditional story of the postwar years has largely ignored anticommunist women. In picturing anticommunism solely as a male crusade, historians and contemporaries have slighted the efforts of women, misinterpreted public feelings about communism, and reinforced conventional stereotypes about women. In some ways, this is symptomatic of the larger society’s failure to recognize women’s contributions during this period and throughout American history. It is the same tendency that has caused historians to focus on Martin Luther King Jr. while ignoring Ella Baker, that made Cesar Chavez a household name while leaving Deloris Huerta in the dust, or that analyzed Adlai Stevenson’s politics while turning Eleanor Roosevelt into a caricature. Historians have tended to focus on male actors while ignoring the women who made political movements viable operations.
In a larger sense, then, this study reinforces a historiography that challenges long-held views of postwar American women. Neither the hopeless victims of Friedan’s Feminine Mystique nor the happy Step-ford Wives of television sitcoms, women of the 1950s and 1960s lived complex lives that defied simplistic categories like “housewife” or “career woman.” The public might have expected a leftist woman to ignore the rules; they would have been shocked to find that conservative women also acted as though limitations on their behavior did not exist.
Were these women feminists? The answer would seem to be no. As historian Kim Nielsen has pointed out, “[E]mpowered women do not necessarily feminists make.” In fact, to label them as such does them a disservice by treating them as the anticommunist men of their time did. These women said they believed in the patriarchal system; they were working to support and protect it by fighting communism. To interpret other meanings from their actions would discount their own statements to the contrary; it would imply that these women did not know their own minds. Moreover, to call these conservative, anticommunist women feminist is to make “feminism” so elastic a term as to be almost meaningless. They were women acting as political agents for a conservative agenda that included the belief that a woman’s first responsibility was to her family. They did not find that notion limiting, since they believed it demanded their political involvement when necessary.7
In the midst of a world beset by communism, conservative women believed all Americans should fight to preserve the American way of life. Significantly, anticommunist rhetoric condemned not only the actions of the Soviets and the Chinese but of anyone who threatened the stability of the rapidly changing postwar world. The U.S. public had dealt with a tremendous amount of change in the two decades prior to the end of World War II: the Depression, the New Deal, Hitler, the Holocaust, the war, the bomb, population shifts, labor unrest, and a Civil Rights Movement. The onset of hostilities with the Soviet Union and China increased the pressure on an already stressed population. Although there was legitimate fear of what the communists might do abroad, at home the anxiety became entangled with the multiplicity of other changes taking place. Frequently, it was hard to tell whether conservatives truly feared a “communist” force at work or, more broadly, the transformation of U.S. society threatened by political and social change.
Without recognizing the key role women played in the anticommunist crusade, the social and political landscape of postwar society remains obscured. Only in seeing how intimately women were involved with all aspects of anticommunism can we see the true nature of the movement and the way it was intertwined with larger concerns about the shifting American landscape. Anticommunism was a tool used by men and women to express their fears and anxieties about their changing world. The irony, of course, was that in joining the battle, women were furthering the transformation they so feared.