Plowing My Own Furrow

Syracuse Studies on Peace and Conflict Resolution

by Howard W. Moore

A memoir written at 95, by America's oldest living conscientious objector. It tells of the harsh treatment meted out to conscientious objectors during World War I, his upbringing in rural upstate New York, and the impact on his thinking by socialist leaders such as Eugene Dobs and Norman Thomas.

228 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 1985

Reviews

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the autobiography of a man who grew up on a hops farm in early 20th century central New York. Coming from a close-knit family, Moore left home as a teenager to "take on" Manhattan. At age 14, he got a job with the New York Telephone Company as a night switchboard operator at one of the big hotels. The job allowed Moore plenty of time to read, and Moore took advantage of it, devouring Karl Marx, Thorstein Veblen, Edward Bellamy and Eugene Debs, among others. Moore had little formal education, but he made up for it on his own.

Then came World War I, and while the rest of America seemed to be itching to enlist in the military, Moore came to a very different conclusion. He would not fight, nor would he take part in any military activity. The reason was not exactly repugnance at the thought of killing another human being stuck in the same trap as him. It had more to do with a deep conviction that war was futile and its use as an instrument of national policy was confessing to moral bankruptcy.

For his beliefs, Moore and a group of other conscientious objectors (CO’s) were court-martialed, sentenced to long prison terms and moved from prison to prison. For a time, they were shackled to the doors of their cells, infested with rats and bedbugs, and forced to stand in one spot, for 8 hours a day. Some of the prison and military personnel tried to be decent and reasonable to the CO’s, while others seemed to delight in mistreating, and severely beating, them at every opportunity. Some of the CO’s accepted freedom in exchange for "alternate service," but not Moore. He insisted on unconditional release, which did not happen until 1920, 2 years after the war ended. His relationship with his family had permanently changed for the worse, so Moore went back to New York City, rising to senior level with the WPA.

This is a gem of a book. It is very easy to read, and shows that people objected to war on moral grounds long before Vietnam. For a look at an unknown part of American history, this is very much recommended.

[Julie Stielstra · Rating 4 out of 5]

An absorbing memoir by an extraordinary man. A farm boy in upstate New York, Howard Moore left school in 8th grade, and set off for New York City by himself with $11 in his pocket to seek his fortune. Entirely self-educated from that point on, he read voraciously: Ingersoll, Shaw, Debs, Veblen, steeped in firebrand socialism from street corner speakers and a level of indifference to organized religious faith. As the first world war rumbled into action in Europe, he determined that he would object from the basis of his own conscience that war was futile, economically driven, and to engage in war was to engage in moral bankruptcy. He would not serve in any capacity. He was an "absolutist" who refused all noncombat roles, and unusual in his individual stance outside more traditional religious peace structures like the Friends, Hutterites, and others. For his refusal to be inducted, he was court-martialed and sentenced to five years in prison - and was delivered to the confines of the disciplinary barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas on the day the Armistice was declared. He was chained standing to his cell door 9 hours a day, in solitary confinement. His cell was 5 by 9, windowless, containing bare stone walls, a bucket, and a lot of rats and bedbugs. He and other CO's were beaten, tortured, and starved. Only after Jane Addams personally visited the prison and spoke with the CO's were they given a wooden board and a blanket to sleep on. He and a handful of other determined men stuck it out. Some died. The Secretary of War, Newton Baker, eventually banned the chaining, and some guards were disciplined for their cruelties - though Moore declined to press complaints against them, saying it was their bosses who were responsible for the mistreatment. (A Catholic chaplain who described this to a Knights of Columbus meeting as an example of "turning the other cheek" was thrown out of the KofC.) Moore was one of the last CO's released, over two years after the war was over. He went on to help administer the WPA, become an organizational efficiency expert, and died at the age of 104, unshaken in his beliefs. He tells his story succinctly, with grace, self-effacement, and a sturdy honesty, and he made a lot of friends through what appears to be sheer smarts and a certain personal charm.

An important first-hand account of a not-very-well-known episode of American history.

[Eric_W · Rating 4 out of 5]

Moore's claim to fame was his nonreligious opposition to WW I. As a conscientious objector he was thrown into prison and severely beaten. Moore was a self-educated man whose formal schooling reached the eighth grade only; but he was a voracious reader who devoured Aristotle, Shaw, Kant, Hegel, and Veblen. His basic argument against war was that it was " futile and its use as an instrument of national policy a confession of moral bankruptcy." When asked, "If you don't believe in God, what sustains you?" he replied, "My own sense of moral responsibility. To accept an authority outside oneself is to deny oneself the right to make an ultimate decision. Understanding that and the consequences likely to follow is to know freedom in the deepest sense." See New Yorker, April 1, 1991 for more information about Moore.

[Darrell Lambert · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book I read more than a decade ago. It still impacts my life and I still think back to it on a regular basis.