A Queer History of the United States (ReVisioning History Book 1)

by Michael Bronski

During the 1776 Continental Congress, Adams and his wife, Abigail, wrote one another frequently, and she was direct in her concerns: I long to hear that you have declared an independency. And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. . . . If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation. That your sex are naturally tyrannical is a truth so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute; but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give up the harsh title of master for the more tender and endearing one of friend.6 John Adams dismisses her concerns with a joke: “We dare not exert our power in its full latitude. We are obliged to go fair and softly, and, in practice, you know we are the subjects. We have only the name of masters, and rather than give up this, which would completely subject us to the despotism of the petticoat . . .” But it is clear that the new American nation and the new American man valued free white men above women and all other men.7

Due to the rise of what Veblen called “conspicuous consumption” (the purchasing of goods to gain class status), heterosexuality, gender roles, and class status were all costumed performances, and all acquisitions, including wives, were essentially disposable. The new commodified, ostentatious definitions of masculinity and femininity—partly designed by homosexuals—changed the appearance of American culture, including religion. Americans had embraced conspicuous consumption, spectacle, and the sexuality of the Arrow Collar Man and luxurious woman. The next step was religion sold as entertainment. These decades saw a rise in populist religious figures who preached a distinctly American, heterosexual gospel. The American public responded with enthusiasm. The new technology of radio enabled these preachers to build huge, devoted followings.

The Red Scare began with the Espionage Act of 1917. The stated intention of this law was to protect the U.S. military during World War I, but its true aim was to silence speech critical of the government. This intention became clear when the Sedition Act, passed a year later, prescribed severe punishment, including extended time in prison, for anyone who “shall willfully utter, print, write, or publish any disloyal, profane, scurrilous, or abusive language about the form of government of the United States or the Constitution of the United States.” In a new twist on the Comstock Act, the law stipulated that the postmaster general could monitor the U.S. mails for violations of the Sedition Act. The mailing of any political material that was critical of the United States government was now prohibited. The hysteria of the Red Scare was “an orgy of superpatriotism” and a “ferocious burst of supernationalism.” But more important, following Mary Douglas’s theories, “it was a purification rite—a reaffirmation of American values.” These “American” values were primarily the values of the social purity movement, now articulated through a different lens.27

Many politically active women began to understand that the people most vulnerable to social and physical abuse were ultimately hurt by benevolent protectionism, which at its worst eagerly fed Red Scare paranoia. These social justice activists argued that what America’s disenfranchised needed was the economic security and independence to protect themselves and the political skills and social tools to maintain this independence.