Chronicles of Old Los Angeles

by James Roman

  CHAPTER 15.

  THE LEFT COAST

  REINVENTING THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY

  1934

  Upton Sinclair was the first celebrity to run for governor of California. His book The Jungle was a national sensation, earning him a Pulitzer Prize. It even prompted federal regulations for the meatpacking industry it exposed. (His book Oil! was the basis for the Oscar winner There Will Be Blood.) Sinclair was a prolific writer, but also an outspoken Socialist who frequently made news. He founded the California chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union, wrote a screenplay for Charlie Chaplin once, ran for Congress twice and landed on the cover of Time magazine. Witnessing the desperation of many Californians during the Great Depression, Sinclair devised EPIC, End Poverty In California, his campaign platform for governor in 1934. His brutal defeat at the polls changed American politics forever.

  Ever since California became a state, Los Angeles was a center for conservative thinking. Republicans outnumbered Democrats three to one in California; its newspapers vied fiercely for Republican readership. William Randolph Hearst, owner of the largest newspaper chain in America (later depicted in the movie Citizen Kane), was so aggressive in his pursuit of readers that his publications gave birth to yellow journalism (referring to a yellow cartoon character that ran in Hearst magazines). Webster’s dictionary defines yellow journalism as “the use of cheaply sensational or unscrupulous methods in newspapers to attract or influence readers.” A Democrat in name only, when the Great Depression hit in 1929, Hearst ran salacious headlines and outright lies in his Los Angeles Examiner to attract conservative readers. Meanwhile, East Coast Democrats, swept into office with President Franklin D. Roosevelt, were shaping a liberal agenda much like Upton Sinclair in LA.

  Hearst’s Examiner needed those eye-grabbing headlines because his publication was locked in a daily battle with its Republican rival, the Los Angeles Times. The fiercely conservative Harry Chandler had recently inherited the Times, and his siblings were determined to retain control of their Republican base in Los Angeles. Some even wanted the family’s paper to espouse the far right-wing ideals of the John Birch Society. When notorious Socialist Upton Sinclair won the Democratic Primary, California had a new Democrat in name only, a political challenge that the Chandlers eyed with relish, for they knew that yet another major force would join them in the fray.

  For the first time in history, a political consulting firm was founded in 1933. Campaigns Inc., headed by Clem Whitaker and his future wife Leone Baxter, specialized in running political campaigns for businesses. During the Depression, big businesses were just as interested in advancing a political agenda as they were in selling a product or service. To monopolies like Standard Oil and DuPont, who hired advertising agencies to promote legislation that favored big business, the ingenuity of Campaigns Inc. was a dream come true. Pacific Gas and Electric was so impressed that its executives put Campaigns Inc. on retainer.

  Upton Sinclair broadcasts a speech during his campaign for governor of California, 1934

  From left: Governor Frank Merriam (center); Leone Baxter and Clem Whitaker, 1933

  Like most California Republicans, Whitaker and Baxter were horrified at the prospect of Sinclair taking charge as governor. Working for incumbent Republican Governor Frank Merriam, they formed the California League Against Sinclairism, not to promote Merriam but simply to destroy Sinclair and EPIC.

  If the Los Angeles press was guilty of yellow journalism before, Campaigns Inc. would now take journalism to a vibrant shade of ochre. Locking themselves in a room for three days with many of Sinclair’s books, Whitaker and Baxter scoured Sinclair’s writings for quotes they could attribute to him out of context, a ploy that worked spectacularly well. As the Sinclair campaign rolled out, Campaigns Inc. furnished the LA Times with quotes from Sinclair novels, but cited as fact. The Times featured those quotes in boxes on the front page daily. Voters in 1934 fell for it, though the statements are so over-the-top that readers today will laugh:

  SINCLAIR ON DISABLED WAR VETERANS: “The lecture was delivered before a lot of good-for-nothing soldiers in some hall.”

  SINCLAIR ON MARRIAGE: “The sanctity of marriage … I have had such a belief … I have it no longer.”

  Sinclair lacked the staff and the funds to refute the LA Times distraction on a daily basis; he was trying to run a statewide campaign. Then, William Randolph Hearst raised the stakes. He warned his friend Louis B. Mayer at MGM, who was also the Republican Chairman for California, that union organizers under a Sinclair administration would overtake Hollywood. Another precedent: In 1934, Hollywood and politics discovered each other. For the first time ever, movie studios would produce propaganda, newsreels that exploited a political position just like Hearst’s newspapers. Funds were deducted directly from studio employees’ paychecks to support Campaigns Inc. and Governor Merriam. Studio heads threatened to move the industry to Florida if Sinclair won the election. Even Aimee Semple McPherson raised her voice to sermonize against the threat of Sinclair’s socialism.

  From left: William Randolph Hearst, 1934; Anti-Sinclair cartoon from the Los Angeles Examiner

  Eleven days before the election, The Hollywood Reporter editorialized, “This campaign against Upton Sinclair is DYNAMITE. It is the most effective piece of political humdingery that has ever been effected … It will undoubtedly give the bigwigs in Washington and politicians all over the country an idea of the real POWER that is in the hands of the picture industry.”

  Just what was Sinclair saying that put so many titans in a lather?

  He pointed out that Republicans occupied every seat in the State Senate and Assembly, and that unemployment stood at 29 percent. There were one and a quarter million people relying on charities (Social Security wasn’t invented yet), while large companies paid little or no tax to support them. Denouncing the manipulations of big businesses, Sinclair tried to speak for the little guy. He advocated “Production for use, not production for profit,” his way of calling attention to the unfair distribution of wealth in America. His plan to end poverty called for the state to take control of factories and farms that were idled by the Depression, then hire unemployed workers to run those factories and farms as self-sufficient, worker-run cooperatives. President Roosevelt would soon create the W.P.A. (Work Projects Administration) as part of his New Deal, implementing much of this idea on a national scale.

  Sinclair also said it was time to tax the rich. EPIC called for the implementation of California’s first state income tax, a progressive scale that demanded 30 percent from the wealthiest Californians. (Roosevelt later implemented that one too, proposing a progressive tax on all businesses in 1935.) Of course the wealthiest people balked, but the backlash they provoked is still heard today, as Californians decry the small number of individuals who control the vast supply of U.S. wealth.

  To the relief of many, Sinclair went down in defeat on Election Day, but it was no landslide. He won 879,000 votes (spectacular for a Socialist!) versus incumbent Governor Merriam’s 1,138,000. With nearly two thousand Democratic clubs supporting Sinclair’s candidacy, 24 Democratic candidates won state elections, making California’s legislature a two-party system again. Among the new officials was LA lawyer Culbert Olson, who would be elected governor just four years later, the first Democrat to hold that office in 40 years. Sinclair’s candidacy reinvented the Democratic Party in California, taking a sharp turn to the left, earning California its moniker, The Left Coast.

  EPILOGUE

  Whitaker, Baxter and Campaigns Inc. changed the political landscape forever. They flourished as political consultants for Eisenhower, Nixon and many others, giving birth to an industry. Political consultants of all stripes raced into competition. As President Kennedy observed decades later, they made political consultancy the new Arms Race in American politics.

  The propaganda mechanism at the movie studios turned out to be good training for the war effort that was to follow. Hitler was in the news every week in 1
934; newsreels continued to follow the story directly into World War II. Just seven years after the invention of talkies, movies had grown up. Observers recognized film’s ability to influence our culture, not just reflect it.

  The Los Angeles Examiner flourished during Hearst’s lifetime, but a decade-long labor strike scared off its biggest advertisers. It ceased publication in 1989.

  President Roosevelt signs Social Security Act on August 14, 1935

  The Los Angeles Times changed its voice under fourth generation Otis Chandler, earning respect for its objective reporting. It won four Pulitzer Prizes during Chandler’s leadership, and dozens more since then.

  Upton Sinclair died in a New Jersey nursing home in 1968, author of 88 novels, plus plays, autobiography and non-fiction writing. Eight of his stories were made into films. He was heartened by the youth culture in the 1960s espousing his views, and enraged that Richard Nixon (who lost the election for governor of California) became president! Sinclair never ran for political office again.

  Days after Sinclair’s defeat in 1934, he received a letter from fellow-leftist Albert Einstein. It ends, “You have done more than any other person. You can in good conscience hand over to men with tougher hands and nerves.” Apparently, it worked, for the number of liberals in state office has increased steadily ever since.

  IN THE MOVIES:

  Stories by Upton Sinclair: The Jungle (1914), The Adventurer (1917), The Money Changers (1920), Jimmie Higgins (1928), The Wet Parade (1932), Damaged Goods (1937), The Gnome-Mobile (1967), There Will Be Blood (2007)

  Toward Los Angeles, California, Dorothea Lange, 1937: Two migrants walking on a deserted road towards Los Angeles during the Depression

  CHAPTER 16.

  THE PARTY IN LITTLE TOKYO

  DANCING IN THE FACE OF HARDSHIP

  1934–Present

  Each summer, the whole world is invited to a party in Little Tokyo. Nisei Week is a Japanese American festival held every August, so eventful that it now spans most of the month, attracting revelers from around the world. Since the 1930s, Nisei Week has involved everyone from beauty queens to politicians, the LA Dodgers and even Charlie Chaplin. Born out of heartbreak, its success is a testament to the resilience of the Japanese community in LA.

  An early wave of Japanese men arrived in Los Angeles, forcibly, in 1903, when the newly unionized workforce at the Pacific Electric Railway went on strike. Owner Henry Huntington imported thousands of Japanese immigrants from San Francisco to run the railroad in Los Angeles and break the union. Instead, a community was born. In 1900, there were fewer than two hundred Japanese people in Los Angeles. By 1904, there were nearly 3,000, though less than two hundred of them were women and children. Thousands of men, known as Issei, the first generation to immigrate to America, brought their dreams to Los Angeles.

  Grand Parade at First and San Pedro Streets, 1951

  They were wise not to rely too heavily on employment from the Anglos. The Chinese, 50 years earlier, tried to work side-by-side with Anglos, only to be called “cheap labor” and then lynched. Instead, the Japanese community created its own economy by remaining insular. Shopkeepers in Little Tokyo rarely solicited customers beyond the Japanese community.

  Meanwhile, millions of acres of undeveloped farmland, the former cattle ranchos, glistened in the California sunshine. Japanese immigrants couldn’t buy farmland, but they knew enough about vegetables to take their chances as tenant farmers instead.

  By 1910, Japanese farms held an important position in the Los Angeles economy; by 1920, their acreage had expanded sevenfold. Industrious Japanese farmers gained near monopolies on the lettuce, celery, strawberry and tomato markets. Their industry supported a whole network of Japanese retail shops around First Street at San Pedro Street, today’s Little Tokyo. Export businesses flourished too, distributing California produce. The railroad opened the market wide, delivering Japanese farmers’ produce across the west.

  The Issei became comfortable with their roles in America. They gave birth to Nisei, first generation Americans who were second-generation Japanese. In the 1920s, the Japanese population was the largest minority group in California. But in 1924, relations became contentious. When some Issei attempted to buy their farmland, the California government stopped them by enforcing the Alien Land Law, reminding the Issei that they were prevented from owning property.

  The news got worse. The Supreme Court upheld the Naturalization Acts that empowered “free, white persons” and later “persons of African descent” to become U.S. citizens, but Issei were “aliens ineligible for citizenship” because of their race. The Immigration Act of 1924 prevented any more Asians from entering the country. Nisei were treated like foreigners too, overlooked for job opportunities even though they were educated, American-born citizens.

  From these grim prospects, an adventurous idea was launched during the Great Depression. The Nisei would throw a party, a multi-day mardi gras that would coincide with the traditional Japanese Obon Festival. Little Tokyo would celebrate the accomplishments of their Issei parents, thereby putting the Nisei experience on display. A beauty pageant and a baby contest would show the American-ness of Nisei life, culminating with a final parade and outdoor dance to display their respect for a long and rich culture. Most radically, Little Tokyo merchants would seek to capitalize on the Anglo tourist trade, a dramatic turnaround from decades of business practices.

  Rehearsals began. Chiye Nagano, LA’s first Japanese dance instructor, choreographed several contingents within the big parade. She simplified the traditional ondo dance steps to attract as many Issei and Nisei as possible, and soon had them dancing side by side. She held extra practices, and even advised the seamstresses on costume designs. Floats were built; farmers decorated their tractors. The community united around a cause.

  Japanese Americans evacuate from Little Tokyo under the U.S. Army’s war emergency order: from left; sign on Japanese-owned shop in Little Tokyo; Japanese Americans sent to camp at Owens Valley gather around baggage car at the old Santa Fe Station. Lee Russell, 1942

  Manzanar War Relocation Center, the mess line at noon. Ansel Adams, 1943

  The first Nisei Week celebration in 1934 was the success that everyone wanted. When Charlie Chaplin showed up to observe the final night’s ondo, the outdoor Japanese folk dance, nearly 1,000 kimono-clad young people were excited to see the screen idol during their performance. Chaplin’s presence was the validation that the community sought. The template, the precedent was established. Nisei Week became an annual event, celebrating the uniqueness of being Japanese Americans.

  In 1941, however, there was little to celebrate. That August, the Los Angeles Times urged its readers to attend Nisei Week because Japanese Americans “had no part in and no responsibility for causing war clouds to gather in the Orient.” Los Angeles Mayor Fletcher Bowron was the honored speaker who kicked off Nisei Week that year. He echoed the statement, adding, “We know you are loyal.” Four months later, when Japanese bombs dropped on Pearl Harbor, Mayor Bowron was one of the first to point a condemning finger. “Right here in our own city,” he warned, “are those who may spring into action at an appointed time in accordance with a prearranged plan.”

  Such anti-Japanese hysteria was everywhere, especially in Los Angeles, home to one of the largest Japanese enclaves outside of Japan. When the federal government declared an immediate military action, all people of Japanese ancestry were rounded up and moved with force. Many were incarcerated in the Manzanar War Relocation Center more than 200 miles away. More than two-thirds of those incarcerated—who committed no crimes, who faced no trials—were American-born citizens. Their elders were prohibited from citizenship by federal law.

  Most in the community survived the indignities of living behind barbed wire for years, in desert heat, where they stood in lines for everything from food rations to latrine trips. They faced another harsh reality in 1945 when they returned to Los Angeles: Since Japanese farmers were not allowed to own propert
y, they were renters, now unable to reclaim their farms. It was the moment that Nisei children assumed control, acquiring property in their names for their Issei parents.

  Meanwhile, Americans were not quick to forgive the Japanese enemy. The Nisei were still distrusted; they hadn’t been seen in Los Angeles for years. Japanese were refused service in public places; they couldn’t join trade unions, they were hassled over housing. It was time for the Japanese community to reinvent itself once more. What could they do?

  Defiantly, they danced! In 1949, Nisei Week burst back into life in red, white and blue. Ondo dancers paraded through the streets of the old Japanese quarter once more. “Look, we’ve come through,” seemed to be the message, both a reassurance to Japanese Americans and a newsflash to the rest of the world. Nisei Week organizers maintained a positive image: Beauty contestants visited Nisei servicemen at the Veteran’s Administration hospital; a souvenir booklet commemorated the Nisei war dead. The community returned, stronger and more resolved than ever.

  Japanese girls in kimonos dancing down the street for the Nisei Week celebration, 1951

  Nisei Week Queen contestants, 1966

  American attitudes toward the Japanese softened. Fletcher Bowron, still LA’s mayor, testified before the U.S. Congress that Japanese internees must be compensated for their economic losses. Those who could actually prove their losses were partially compensated, but many claims were denied due to lack of evidence. Instead, Issei and Nisei focused on the future, more determined than ever to restore the old community of Little Tokyo as the spiritual center of Japanese Los Angeles. Congress rescinded the laws that barred Issei from citizenship and prevented Japanese immigration in 1952. Finally, there was no legal basis to anti-Japanese discrimination.