Socialist Party

SOCIALIST PARTY.

Founded in 1901 and attaining its apex in the 1910s, the Socialist Party (SP) ‘more than any other Left organization in U.S. history impressed its ideas upon the mainstream and propounded a credible, popular vision of socialism. In its failures and its final collapse, it mirrored most of the fundamental weaknesses of the American Left.

The immediate origins of the SP can be found in the 1880s and 1890s, with the rise of labor and social protests and the inability of the mostly immigrant socialists to create a large or durable organization. Eugene Debs, allying his followers from the ‘American Railway Union and Social Democracy of ‘America with dissidents from the Socialist Labor Party, both negotiated the merger and ran for the presidency on a unified ticket in 1900. His own characteristic milieu of native-born skilled workers, lower‘middle-class veterans of social protest, and a volatile tenant-farmer population in the Southwest dominated the public tone of the SP in the early years.

German, Jewish, and a handful of other immigrant ‘groups, strong in selected neighborhoods and unions, eagerly shared the dream of “Americanizing” the soalist movement.

Popular agitation and education supplied the ‘means to reach the masses, with the Socialist press the key mechanism. By 1912-1913, more than three hhundred periodicals, mostly weeklies but including ‘many dailies and monthilies as well, were in circulation. The Jewish Daily Forward, reaching 200,000 by the close of the 1910s, was the Yiddish circulation leader in the world. The Appeal to Reason, peaking at three quarters ofa million (and in some special weeks, reaching more than a million) was for atime the most, ‘widely circulated political weekly in the United States. Although no clear estimate can be made, a ‘combined circulation figure would run to several million. Most of these had an intense regional or local audience of party members and sympathizers expectant of a swift rise in socialist ranks.

The strength of the Socialist press lay, above all, {n its variety and adaptation. Unlike the Socialist Labor Party’s Daily People, which presumed to offer a single position for all socialists to follow, SP papers assumed (sometimes in a very insular way) the inevitability of different tastes for different constituencies. One might note, for example, the extraordinary strength of the Hallettsville (Texas) Rebel, supported by twenty-five thousand readers among the district’ tenant farmers and followed by supporters of the

Mexican Revolution; or again the monthly National Rip-Saw from Saint Louis, with its 150,000 readers spread across the South and Southwest. In the single district of Chicago, influence was exerted by a dozen ‘or more papers (the Slovakian Rovnost Ludu had a readership of almost ten thousand, the Slovenian Proletarec reached more than four thousand, the Bohhemian Spraredelust claimed twelve thousand, and the Christian Socialist had nearly twenty thousand).

Many central labor councils such as Cleveland's, with the Cleveland Citizen, and a few important national unions such as the brewery workers and western miners, with Brauer Zeitung and Miners Magazine, respectively, proudly sponsored Socialist loyalties. So widely scattered was this press that Arkansas, Iowa, Kansas, Missouri, Texas, Pennsylvania, and Oklahoma each hhad more than a dozen papers, often with small circulations of less than a thousand but an intense, semirural following.

In that age, public and especialy street-comer (or soapbox") lectures also offered a major arena for attracting political attention. Hundreds of traveling lecturers, often paid through a percentage on sales of pamphlets, toured each possible constituency in a

fashion that the abolition, woman suffrage, temperance, and popular movements had long since made successful. To that, Socialists added a religious-populist favorite, the tent meeting, stretching over days, of education and entertainment in rural southwestcen locations.

If Socialists praised the agitator, however, they offered little solace and less support to the weighty thinker so prestigious in European socialism. Such a figure as Emest Untermann, translator of Capitals first volume, had to make do with popularizations for American readers, while sending his more orighrnal work for publication to Germany. Untermann's favorite US. publication, Intemational Socialist Review, jettisoned its theoretically oriented format entirely in 1908 and became a popular magazine, leaving a vac‘uum never truly filled. The Left’ intellectual creation, the New Review, did no better, folding in 1917 after making a brave start four years earlier. Only in the Yiddish monthly Zukunft did the theoreticallyminded (at that, often restricted to literary or Jewish topics) have anything like free range to explore ‘deeper questions of socialist philosophy.

In the absence of such a discussion, internal differences hinted at a youthful exuberance but also a deep uncertainty over the problems America held for socialist ideas. From an empirical standpoint, the party did not attract the native-born, urban, eastern ‘or midwestern worker in any significant proportion.

Frequently Irish and tied to the Democratic Party (or at any rate Catholic, and successfully repelled from socialism by the clergy’s denunciations and warnings), this worker also often enjoyed great material advantages over the unskilled, recently immigrated, worker. Exceptions could readily be found. Where ethnic factors (such as German descent) nurtured a socialistic leaning, or where a one-industry town, minimized the middle class, or again where Socialists had organized and maintained control over central unions, the SP could exert an exceptional force. Even here, however, defeat—often to a fusion ticket of co‘operating Republicans and Democrats—often followed on the heels of a victory.

Disputes often centered on solving this problem of reaching the “real American worker,” or of find{ing alternative constituencies. On the “Right,” longtime activists in the American Federation of Labor (AFL), occasionally quite successful (as in Milwaukee) in building a local political machine, stressed the party's respectability. Indeed, such Socialists urged

support for the AFL’s demand for immigration restriction, and acquiesced in its combination of open racism and general denigration of the unskilled worker. On the “Left,” a variety of militants and.

tellectuals insisted on the presentation of the full Soalist program, and believed the goal could be reached by mobilizing the mass of workers, preferably through radical industrial unions. The formation of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) in 1905 galvanized both sides of the dispute. Jockeying on the IWW and other issues continued until the climactic division of 1919.

By no means could all differences be so characterized, however. On the crucial issue of a farm program—whether land would be “nationalized” or retured to the poor farmer—the rural and urban divisions proved far more important, with “scientific” socialists unable to grasp the unpopularity of state landownership. On women’s rights and specifically the support of the woman suffrage movement, the “Left” frequently disdained such petty reforms as vot{ng requirements while sections of the “Right” found themselves comfortable with suffrage activists.

Among youth groups, both community (Young Peoples Socialist League [YPSL]) and campus (Intercolleslate Socialist Society), “Right” and “Left” likewise shared encouragement and criticisms. On blacks and their status in the United States, few Socialist voices could be heard before 1915. But the “Left,” unwill ing to make compromising qualifications for any speial status of worker, offered what appeared to be ‘empty promises of egalitarian futures.

The rise of the mass strikes among the unskilled, ‘along with a sharp reversal of electoral successes, set the stage for more fundamental antagonisms within the movement, For a moment it seemed that the IWW would succeed in mobilizing large sections of eastern and southern European workers across the East and Midwest, thus revolutionizing the SP. At the party convention of 1912—the banner year, with nearly a million votes for Debs, and the election of hundreds of local officials—William D. Haywood faced removal from the national executive committee (to which he had been elected by the party at large) for advocating sabotage, a practice widely engaged in (but only sub rosa) by workers of many kinds. Provoked by the “Right,” Haywood turned from the party. Many of its younger industrial militants abandoned the organization with him (a few hundred were also removed, through purges of mem-

bership rolls, mostly in certain foreign-language ‘groups). Far more devastating, local elected officials in power lacked the ability or opportunity to truly ‘transform political lfe—in a few cases, so much losing interest in Socialism that the SP local expelled them while they remained in office. In this calamity, ‘membership fell to scarcely more than half its 1912 level of some 100,000.

‘Two other issues at the same pivotal convention.

raised question marks over the SP's future. A handful Of leading Socialist intellectuals, including historianeditor A. M. Simons, greeted a relative leftward shift within the AFL by proposing Socialist support for a labor party. Not many others could agree to the abandonment of party independence, especially on such a weak reed. But this tendency hinted defections to the Right mirroring those to the Left. Second, the party leadership reluctantly agreed to officially charter the growing foreign-language socialist groups into associative federations. This issue, unlike the Hi ‘wood matter, had no “Left” or “Right” tilt despite the heavily immigrant character of the later Communist ‘movement. Taken with other developments, it sug‘gested that the Socialists’ infrastructure had begun to give way.

‘The growth of the foreign-language section to some forty percent of a diminished party by 1916 sig.

naled the consolidation of the changes. While strong local branches, which were organized around election campaigns, arose and rapidly dwindled, specific new immigrant groups integrated the socialist faith, and political practice into the logics of their developing communities. Czechs, Finns, Slovenes, Hungarians, Lithuanians, and others, despite their own.

{internal conflicts, revived the Socialist movement in.

various cities and industrial settlements.

‘The outbreak of war in Europe underlined the im= portance of international issues to these constituents in particular. Many felt the aspirations of their relatives in oppressed nations; all, itis safe to say, feared for the worst and sought to gather resources to send back home; in more than a few cases, they also supplied the radical pamphlets and other publications through which the Old World struggle would reori cent itself to new realities, Over the next half-dozen years, the problems of connecting class and n struggles became steadily more complex. But in almost every case, Socialists came to a position of new importance within the crisis-ridden communities desperately seeking dynamic leadership.

For the first time, black socialists also became an ‘estimable factor, albeit almost entirely in northern, «ities rather than in the rural South, and despite being offered no special encouragement by the party.

Around Pullman car organizer A. Philip Randolph and his group's stylish monthly, the Messenger, a.

Harlem group formed. Aroused by a handful of black Socialists elsewhere as well, and touched by incipient black nationalism, an urban race movement of both {intellectuals and workers began to show promise.

‘The economics of these communities also favored rapid Socialist growth. Wartime conditions both shut off new immigration to the United States—tightening job markets perceptibly—and prompted an ‘American economic boom following the 1913-1914 recession. The IWW, which had hoped to lead these very largely unskilled, mass-production ranks, had bbeen driven to the West by major defeats, and would, soon face an unprecedented government-and-business repression. Burgeoning industrial unionism flowed, especially from the U.S. entry into the war, into the existing AFL unions or into newly organized and radical-leaning bodies such as the Amalgamated Clothing Workers. “Practical” unionism with a radical edge emphasized the importance of radical poli tics, and despite all official party reluctance, the federations became the main recipients of fresh energies.

‘The party's English-language sector meanwhile

suffered serious blows asa result of the war. Woodrow ‘Wilson's appeal for a peace presidency drove socialist electoral talleys far down. European socialist (especially German Socialist) failure to vote against war Credits had a devastating effect on morale. Important intellectuals, both Right and Left, defected to patriotism. Repression of the Socialist press fell particularly hhard upon the rural papers, which needed second‘lass mailing permits to survive, and upon rural and small-town constituencies, which now faced severe pressure from the spreading reactionary patriotism.

‘The party's 1917 Saint Louis convention mandated ‘an essentially pacifist anti-war program, and party activists—"Right” as well as “Left”—urgently pushed their appeals fora cessation of the fighting, They were quite literally the only major movement in U:S. so‘iety to stand adamant against the war currents.

Rising anti-war sentiment, by 1918 or so, began to reward courage and hard work. Deprived of some constituencies, Socialists began to gain others (most especially, but not only, among the victimized nationalities, such as German Americans). Local elec-

toral strongholds returned in some cases, and in oth‘ers appeared for the first time. This new burst of electoral enthusiasm brought new Socialists to office in Wisconsin, Illinois, Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Minnesota, Kentucky, and elsewhere. It peaked in 1917 in Ohio, where Socialists received up to fifty percent of the vote in large industrial cities where they had strength; in Chicago, where they received a third of the municipal vote; and in New York.

‘A second-place finish that year for Morris Hiliquit, ‘New York City mayoral hopeful, was viewed not only.

as an anti-war but also a virtual Socialist mandate.

The People's Council for Peace and Democracy, which ‘might be described as the American Lett’ first Popular Front-style mobilization, drew pacifist and radi cal labor leaders behind a unified anti-war and antirepression appeal, and gained much popular attention. Meanwhile, key Socialistled unions such as the Amalgamated Clothing Workers (whose presi dent, Sidney Hillman, also headed the People's Counil) quickly consolidated their grip on industries ‘through careful use of government-based mediations.

Even among such weakly represented groups as Ital jans, Socialist support and (less commonly) membership began to grow significantly. The future of the Socialist movement, now more than fifty percent immigrant, might have been seen as a bright one.

The Russian October Revolution, the failure of the revolution in Europe, and the appearance of the Third International meant Socialist division and the loss of, precious political opportunities. A Moscow-mandated split in socialist parties took place via growing chalTenges over war issues (the emerging immigrant-dom{inated Left demanded not pacifism but “direct action”) and control of the party. Right-leaning.

functionaries, mostly from the older immigrant ‘groups or atleast older generation of immigrants and native-born, had watched the steady demographic change of the movement with unease. Still gripping, party mechanisms, they set aside a national executive committee election that would have given proBolsheviks an outright majority. Thereafter, one Communist faction withdrew immediately, and an‘other awaited the 1919 convention, denouncing the expulsions of branches, state party sections, and entire foreign-language federations.

Ironically, as with the war issue, the Socialist “Right” for the most part had often taken very “Left” Positions on the Russian Revolution, while future

American Communist leaders did not entirely see its blessings. All this mattered little when the break took place. Amid massive repression, an organization of ‘more than 100,000 members divided into two or three parts, which altogether could manage no more than forty thousand members two years later. The bulk of the Socialist movement had simply faded away; and while the immigrant groups recovered a portion of this loss, the English-language sector disappeared into farmer-labor movements or simply ‘grew quiescent.

‘The SP often remained larger than the Communist movement, on the membership rolls, through the early 1930s. But its strength lay mainly in older members, a few local political machines (notably, Milwaukee), ethnic groups (mainly Slovenians) with special reasons for resisting the Soviet Union's appeal, and a handful of unions centered in the garment trades. Between Left-eaning youth and the progressive unions, a handful of Socialists effected an important link through the slick monthly Labor Age, and earnestly supported the Brookwood Labor College's activities. Likewise, the Rand School, launched in the 1910s, continued to have a formidable public presence in New York. Christian pacifism also drew a talented group of younger Socialists. But temporary revivals in Socialist activities seemed to end in disappointment

Most of all, the Socialists exhibited the tiredness Of senior radicals who had lost confidence in their ‘mission, and who at times (as in the garment trades and the pages of the weekly New Leader) seemed more intent on attacking Communists than In ending capitalism, Well placed in the leadership of the “Jewish unions,” and concentrated in the United Hebrew ‘Trades, they had had enough revolutions for the foreseeable future, and yearned for stability. Communists, ‘exuberant in their neat-fanatical optimism regarding ‘world revolution, attracted potential radical activists and intellectuals (including important leaders of the Socialists’ reorganized YPSL) with their dynamism.

‘The major outpouring of Socialist energy into Robert M. La Follette's 1924 Progressive campaign added lit tle to the tarnished luster of the party and left further discouragement in its wake.

Norman Thomas almost single-handedly revived the SP. In 1928, the year of his first presidential campaign, membership stood at a staggering low of eight thousand, Thomas generated news with his public addresses, and he appealed forcefully to religious and

‘academic liberals such as John Dewey and Paul Douglas, with whom he formed the League for Independent Political Action. As he attracted a respectable if rot especially impressive vote, and as the United States entered the Depression, Socialist fortunes improved and membership doubled by 1932.

In retrospect, this was the high point of the SP revvival, Thomas's 1932 presidential campaign, which ‘gained 800,000 votes, agitated campus politics on a scale hitherto unprecedented, and reached a wide di versity of Americans (including many almost but not quite willing to vote for him). Adulation bordering upon the hero-worship previously reserved for Eugene Debs surrounded the former Presbyterian minister in his perpetual speaking tours, banquets, and radio addresses. Due in no small part to the extreme Communist sectarianism, a Socialist youth move‘ment of considerable proportions grew from campus to community, and the Socialist presence within the labor movement waxed strong once more. In Wisconsin, in Reading, Pennsylvania, and in a scattering of other cities, local Socialist electoral campaigns took ‘on new life. Certain ethnic groups, notably Jews and Finns, gained fresh energies from returnees, activists disillusioned with Communist practices but still dedfated to socialist ideals. The political activities of ‘other groups, such as Slovenes, resumed to a degree after a long concentration on fraternal institution-building. Chiefly through the Southern Tenant Farmers Union, the Socialists made new ties in the South.

At this apex of expectation, the SP once more fell to external and internal foes. The most formidable of these, the New Deal, dragged leading Socialist union{sts into support for Franklin Roosevelt's 1936 reelection campaign, a contradiction that Socialists (unlike Communists) could not tolerate. Even before then, several of Thomas's most promising supporters hhad defected to Fiorello La Guardia’s mayoral campaign in New York, and Upton Sinclair had seemingly shown another way forward by garnering nearly 900,000 votes on the Democratic ticket in the 1934 ‘gubernatorial race in California, Meanwhile, the genrational struggle within the party had begun i eamest with a 1934 showdown of the Old Guard (from the garment unions) against the “Militants” (a heterogenous force of young Socialists, Milwaueeans, and others eager to upset the New York So: alist veterans’ monopoly on leadership). The Mil tants, electing Milwaukeean and Amalgamated Clothing Workers leader Leo Kraycki party chair,

achieved a narrow and Pyrthic victory. Disaster for the Socialists lay straight ahead.

‘Thomas's 1936 campaign, winning less than half the votes of 1932, offered a dour guide to Socialist troubles. After the party’s May convention of that year, the Old Guard withdrew in a bloc, forming the Social Democratic Federation, which threw itself im‘mediately into the American Labor Party and indi rect support for Roosevelt’ reelection. Along with the (Old Guard went several of the party’s most precious.

{institutional resources: the Rand School, the New: Leader, and New York radio station WEVD. Thomas, sought to run a campaign that left open the door both for activity in state farmer-labor parties and in.

the SP. (The next year, Thomas himself would withdraw from the New York mayoral race, leaving the path clear for his supporters to turn to La Guardia's, fusion ticket)

‘Such maneuvers could not make up for the losses and the party's internal bleeding. With the leftward, tilt of the New Deal in 1936 and the subsequent rise Cf the Congress of Industrial Organizations (C10), promising young socialists either went to Washington as brain-trust bureaucrats or plunged wholly into labor activities. Despite widespread Socialist youth activity on the campuses in particular, the Communist Party, now entering its Popular Front phase, tended to recruit the most promising activists in college and ‘youth movements, or alternatively to capture control Of organizations and discourage dissenters. Socialists ‘might publish a respectable weekly (the Socialist Call) and organize effectively to help the Flint, Michigan, sitdown strike, but they gained few members for their efforts. Meanwhile the Trotskyist movement entered the SP en blac in 1936 and, after nearly two years of bitter factional fighting, withdrew (or was expelled) with the cream of the recent YPSL crop. Other than scattered municipal support and a pacifist remnant, little remained behind Norman Thomas, who by 1938 indeed called for a turn from electoralism to educational efforts.

‘The socialist caucus around Walter Reuther ‘marked one stunning, if ambiguous, exception. Walter Reuther’s brother Victor and Victor's wife, Sophie, Eddie Levinson, and a circle of other SP members played Key roles in launching and consolidating the United Auto Workers, even if the party itself continued to have a small Michigan membership. Riveted to union activities, most of the group drifted out of the SP by wartime, but continued with other erst-

while Socialists as Reuther's inner circle. Tacticians of the anticommunist bloc, they nevertheless maintained hopes for a socialistic opposition to capitalism, a vision which faded in time into Democratic Party liberalism with a pinkish tint. Victor Reuther distinguished himself by exposing the Central Intel ligence Agency's activities within the labor move‘ment and continuing, into advanced old age, as a fiery speaker at labor conventions.

It was also notable, albeit as a side issue, how I tle theoretical effort could be seen in Socialist publications, even relative to the modest intellectual work.

‘earried on by contemporary Left groups. Haim Kantorovich, a relatively recent refugee intellectual, conducted the American Socialist Quarterly for a few years, with the participation of David P. Berenberg and a small circle of others. They turned their eyes largely to the contemporary European socialists’ leftish fringes, and to a vague mulling of the issues of soialism and democracy. Harry W. Laldler, one-man {intellectual whirlwind of the League for Industrial Democracy, meanwhile produced volume after vol‘ume advocating a British-style nationalization. But pethaps the most notable effort, by Christian socialists in the World Tomorrow and, after its close in 1934, in their separate books and pamphlet, stood the fu thest from traditional Marxism and the Second International. Norman Thomas's best efforts, scarcely theoretical but full of intelligent and humane argu‘ment, took place within this last context. Having drifted rightward by the 1940s, the New Leader lacked this humane dimension and was characterized by its, bitter opposition to enemies on the Left without counterposing any positive vision other than a mildly reformed capitalism,

Under Thomas's leadership, this much-reduced ganization (by the later 1930s, under ten thousand, members) played its most notable role in anti-war propaganda, Socialists organized the Keep America ut of War Congress in 1938. While adamantly hostile to fascism, Thomas accurately predicted the decline of radical prospects following U:S. entry, the erosion of civil liberties, and a world reshaped under the totalitarian image. His warnings, above all of “armament economics,” a permanent war economy ruled by the military-industrial complex, proved sadly prescient, as did his complaints against an all-too-compliant and corrupted liberalism. Thomas had anticipated, perhaps better than anyone else, the future effects of the Cold War on all political discourse. By

1941 only a small portion of the SP remained with hhim to support (but critically) the war against fascism, and to carry on much-needed work on behalf Cf conscientious objectors and others newly imprisned.

From that decline, the party could not recover. But it remained doggedly alive, running Norman Thomas ‘through 1948, denouncing both Stalinism and the denouement of American liberalism in the Democratic Party's broad shift to the right. Waiting (but without any early hopes) for the inevitable disillusionment with Communism and capitalism, the SP drifted. The formerly Trotskyist Independent SocialIst League of a few hundred members—many of whom had been expelled by the SP in 1938—rejoined the party in 1957, now merged also with the returned Social Democratic Federation. A few thousand, ‘mostly aged, members confronted the vacuum left by the sorely weakened CP and the newer hopes raised by civil rights and disarmament movements.

By this time, the liberal wing of the Democratic Party and the liberal wing of the existing labor lead‘ership offered the lodestars. “Realignment” of the two-party political system through influence on the Democrats and labor became the all-consuming strategy. Much rested, it was believed, upon the initiatives of well-placed individuals. Michael Harrington, whose The Other America (1960) inspired the War on Poverty, offered the model policy-analyst for Democratic Party liberals. Former Trotskyist leader Max Shachtman, ever closer in influence and views to the top leadership of the AFL-CIO, drafted out influential position papers for labor. YPSL luminaries guided the Student Peace Union's meteoric rise to antibomb militancy in the early 1960s, and remained active in Young Democrats and Campus Americans for Democratic Action (CADA) chapters thereafter. Directors of, the Student League for Industrial Democracy, campus ‘connection of the SP since the 1930s, aided the modest rebirth of the movement on a few 1950s campuses and supplied resources for its conversion into Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) in 1963—a move later bitterly regretted as opening doors for the New Left.

Faced with the New Left, the SP in general moved swiftly right. Socialist leaders tended (although not uniformly) to support U.S. military posture when the alternative looked suspiciously Communist. They also forcefully opposed “Black Power’ and denounced public criticism of Israeli policies. Bayard

Rustin, the most prominent black SP leader, thus broke with the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jt’s avowed opposition to the Vietnam War. By the close ‘of the 1960s, a flagging YPSL. viewed itself as the centrist alternative to the booming, radicalized SDS.

‘Once more the party fractured. The most conse -vative faction, closely linked to the upper echelons Of the labor movement, broke away in 1972 to form Social Democrats USA (SDUSA), whose strident anti‘communism, opposition to affirmative action, and ‘unwavering support of Israel have been its most notable features,

Several ofits youth notables emerged in the 1980s 5 staff aides to United Nations ambassador Jeane Kirkpatrick or as leaders of the hard-line anticom‘munist National Endowment for Democracy. Ironi‘ally, this career shift removed younger operatives from SDUSAS real base of strength, the labor bureaucracy, and left the small but exceptionally wellfunded organization with limited influence during the AFL-CIO upheaval of the 1990s. The defeat of the Kirkland bloc (including SDUSA’s great favorite, Albert Shanker), like the end of the Cold War, left the badly aging group of Social Democrats with little influence and few issues. SDUSA retained, however, an {intimate alliance with bricklayers’ president (and la bor's most prominent antiabortion figure) Ed Joyce, who supplied the organization office space in the union's Washington headquarters. Its close support ers held leadership positions in the A. Philip Ran dolph Institute, Freedom House, and the American Federation of Teacher.

‘second wing, led by Michael Hartington, in 1972 formed the Democratic Socialist Organizing Com: mittee, which a decade later merged with the New American Movement to form the Democratic Social: {sts of America (DSA). The latter's ecumenical social: ism, its support by the few outspoken radical labor leaders such as the machinists’ William Winpisinger, and its sometimes lively branch activity seemed most {in keeping with the old SP. Its determined loyalty to the Democratic Party, however, marked the great shift, taken in the historic socialist movement, and cost DSA dearly when Left influence declined among Democrats after 1978. DSAs largest subsequent mobilization, for the Jesse Jackson. nomination campaign a decade later, won it new campus visibility but ‘embittered rightward-drifting older socialists. After ward, DSA continued through mass mailings to at tract dues-paying members, a times reaching beyond

ten thousand, but only a handful of branches re‘mained viable into the 1990s—a unique proportion ‘of “inactives” among party members within Ameri‘can Left history. Helping to stage public forums (especially the annual Socialist Scholars Conference in New York), holding summer “institutes” and conventions, putting out discussion bulletins and assorted publications, DSA officers and public figures (especially Barbara Ehrenreich) managed to keep the ‘organization afloat and visible through political hard.

times.

‘Meanwhile, a small but stubborn group of loyal{sts kept the regular SP franchise alive. One ofits fi nal major presidential campaigns, in 1976, ran for‘mer Milwaukee mayor Frank Zeidler and gained votes disproportionately in that city. The appearance of the Citizens Party in 1980 fairly well submerged this effort, although the SP maintained its national campaigns with such notables as peace activist David MeReynolds and labor-feminist author Barbara Gat son in titular roles. Outside of a few locations, the SI seemed to have los its raison d’étre, Yet the continued election of an occasional local SP: member, usu ally in nonpartisan races, helped demonstrate the role ‘of noncapitalist parties under proper circumstances, and eased the rebirth of third party politics on the Left

{See also Ameringer, Oscar; Appeal to Reason; Armenian Americans; Berger, Victor L.; latch, Harriot Stanton; Bohemian Americans; Boudin, Louis B.; Christian Socialism; Cleveland Citizen; Cloth Hat and Capmakers; Debs, Eugene V.; Farmer-Labor Party; Harrington, Michael; Haywood, William D.; Hughan, Jessie Wallace; Hungarian Americans; Intercollegiate Socialist Society; International Socialist Review; Konikow, Antoinette Bucholz; Laidler, Harry W.

Lawrence Strike; Lilienthal, Meta Stern; Lithuanian Americans; London, Jack; London, Meyer; Lore, Lud‘wig: Lowe, Caroline A.; Malkiel, Theresa Serber; Maurer, James Hudson; Mitchell, H. L; Municipal Social: ism; O'Hare, Kate Richards; Peace Movements; Polish, Americans; Rand School of Social Science; Randolph, A Philip; Rustin, Bayard; Sandburg, Carl; Sanger, Margaret; Schudder, Vida Dutton; Socialist Sunday Schools; Southern Tenant Farmers Union; Stokes, Rose Pastor; Student Movements, 1930s; Student Peace Union; Thomas, Norman; Ukrainian Ameri‘cans; Union Square, New York City; United Brewery Workers; United Mine Workers; Walling, William English; Wilshire, H. Gaylord; Winchevsky, Mortis;

‘Woman's National Committee; Woman's National Socialist Union; Workers’ Education; Workmen's Circle; Yiddish Left; Young, Art; Young People's Socialist League]