Myth Against Man

As a fifteen-year-old high school senior, Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr. '38 published his first defense of liberalism, a book review in the New England Quarterly. Now a professor of History, Schlesinger is still fighting for liberalism, astounding his colleagues with his energy, and enduring a myth of "youthful arrogance and smugness."

Professor Perry Miller, who delights in refuting this myth, remembers when Schlesinger was "a shy little sophomore drama critic taking orders from seniors on the Advocate." Miller tutored Schlesinger when he wrote his summa thesis on the radical Jacksonian reformer Orestes Brownson, but "I was really only a nominal tutor," Miller says, "since Arthur's first drafts seldom needed any revision." The thesis was published as a book shortly after his graduation. "If you plan to write a book, college is the best time," according to Schlesinger. "You'll never again have so much free time or be so innocent of the complexities involved."

"Innocent" though he may have been in college, Schlesinger was apparently not naive, for he avoided the "pink" organizations which snared so many other young liberals. "He always had his feet on the ground," one friend explained. Schlesinger did join the Signet and the Advocate, and Phi Beta Kappa elected him first marshal.

One of the original group of Junior Fellows, he went on to serve as a civilian in Army intelligence during the war. There, his liberal politics stirred up official antagonism. As a civilian, he had commanded a number of Army officers, but when the Army finally drafted him, he was ranked as a private. Disturbed by the sight of a private bossing officers, his superiors ordered him to wear civilian clothes. Schlesinger apparently enjoys joking about the incident; his friends, however, feel the rank of private was grossly unjust and suggest that humor masks his real embarrassment.

After the war, he published The Age of Jackson, challenging the standard analysis of Jackson as the arch frontiersman, and reinterpreting the period with more emphasis on its intellectual values and the urban roots of its reform spirit. Though he is modest about the book's merits, it earned him a Pulitzer Prize for History at the age of twentyeight. Much of the book was written, a friend claims, with "one twin on each knee." Schlesinger still continues to do much of his work amid the clamor of his children, now increased to four.

After publishing The Age of Jackson, he worked for two years as a free-lance writer in Washington. Until Harvard invited him as an associate professor, he probably hesitated to risk his personal identity by continuing his family's tradition of Scholarship. Walter Bradford Cannon, his wife's father, was a noted medical researcher and professor of Physiology at Harvard. His mother is related to George Bancroft, a Jacksonian politician and outstanding historian of his day. Arthur M. Schlesinger, Sr. Francis Lee Higginson Professor, emeritus, is considered America's first great social historian. Before his son returned to Harvard, the elder Schlesinger lectured on "The Social and Intellectual History of the United States," but after his son joined the Faculty, the course was divided in half. Arthur Schlesinger, Sr., taught the social history while his son lectured on the intellectual history. Says his father, "Arthur and I were always harmonious in our political thinking."

Schlesinger's course in American intellectual history is now one of the most popular in the College. At the first meeting this year, he stood before an overflow crowd of three hundred and announced with his dead-pan expression--"Let's all petition for a bigger room." Schlesinger delights his packed lecture hall with a unique combination of insights into intellectual trends, ironic descriptions of American religious prophets, and quips about conservatives from Fisher Ames to John Foster Dulles.

Aside from traveling, much of his time is devoted to historical research and writing. He is preparing the first volume of a series entitled The Age of Rossevelt for publication in the fall. Though he is active politically, Schlesinger does not believe that the historian as such affects society appreciably. "The Primary motive of the historian is curiosity," he believes, "and his greatest contribution to society is in satisfying that curiosity in others. Anything else is merely a by-product. The historian does not change society so much as he reflects it."

Until the Republicans took office in 1952, Schlesinger, a registered Democrat, was active as a government aide. Under Averell Harriman, Schlesinger served as a special counselor in the administration of the Marshall Plan. But after the Republican victory, Schlesinger channeled his political energies into the Americans for Democratic Action, becoming national chairman for 1953-54. In his book, The Politics of Freedom, his analysis of the A.D.A. partially defines his own philosophy. The A.D.A. he says, is dedicated to "...the tradition of liberalism--the tradition of Jackson and Hawthorne, the tradition of responsibility about politics and a moderate pessimism about man."

As Schlesinger found an organ for his beliefs in the A.D.A., he found a political standard-bearer in his friend Adlai Stevenson. In 1952 he joined Stevenson's "brain trust" and helped write speeches for the candidate. If Stevenson is nominated again, Schlesinger may use his sabbatical next year to aid his campaign, as well as to finish his Roosevelt study.

While Schlesinger's reputation as a political writer and a scholar has increased, the myth about his arrogance has also grown. This myth originates not so much from any personal conceit, but from his intense identification with liberalism. In informal discussions of current issues like segregation, he becomes caustic and impatient in defense of militant liberalism. "Why should the under-dog be patient while he gets kicked in the teeth?" he demands. "We don't need caution so much as sound reasoning and the courage to apply it." This impatience with conservatism appears brash to critics who hear him debate. Similarly, the moral tone of some of Schlesinger's magazine articles has reinforced the myth about his smugness.

Schlesinger will vigorously argue political questions but his friends claim that he seldom discusses his career or his personal life. One colleague, a professor of literature who finds in Schlesinger "a deep humility at heart," probably uncovered the greatest source of the aura of arrogance around Schlesinger when he observed, "Arthur is more informed in my field than I am."