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Reviews of Books
begins by tracing the rise of the tripartite system of
global labor rights based on participation from labor,
management, and government, from the early twentieth century through the establishment of the ILO
during the Treaty of Versailles. Despite the ILO being
the spiritual offspring of the American policy elite,
however, the United States rejected it along with the
rest of the Versailles-based international arrangements after World War I. Just as the stream of
progressive thought on the domestic labor question
was brought into the corridors of power during the
crisis of the 1930s, however, so did its international
twin as the United States finally joined the ILO in
1934. This policy "reversal" toward a pro-labor rights
position happened in an absolutely fascinating dialogue with the decline of the New England textile
industry in the 1920s and 1930s, which spurred industrialists to see the downside of unrestrained competition on their fortunes and their workers. This thrust a
New Hampshire politician named John Winant to the
head of the ILO in 1935. As Lorenz argues, "Winant
followed the evidence. And, the evidence clearly proceeded from the mills on the Merrimack through the
American South and on to Geneva" (p. 81).
The study then proceeds into the postwar era. This
period began with the 1944 Declaration of Philadelphia, a document that put social justice squarely at the
front of the international order. Unfortunately, the
postwar years quickly became defined by waning
American interest in international labor rights, except
when it came to fighting communism, expanding technocracy, and limiting the ILO's social mission. At the
dawn of the new millennium, Lorenz sees reasons for
renewal and reaffirmation of the ILO's vision. As the
"lawless global economy feared by Woodrow Wilson
and James Shotwell in 1919, and by Robert Owen a
century earlier" has finally arrived, it is the ILO that
again will be able to step in to speak for global justice
(p. 220). The question that remains is whether the ILO
is up to the immense challenge of inserting the old
school progressive vision into the globalization debates, or whether it will only be allowed to tinker
around the margins of the world order and serve
simply, as Fortune magazine once called it, as "Revolution Insurance" for business interests, mobilized only
when things get too hot.
While this narrative is reliable and workmanlike,
Lorenz's theoretical overlay inadvertently exposes
much of the northern arrogance embedded in the
global North-South tensions of the contemporary
world order. The ILO is an institution that is removed
and arcane and bureaucratic to most citizens, one that
grants no enforceable rights to anyone, but that the
author heralds as a stunning example of the success of
the openness of the political process to a substratum of
U.S. elite politics. The "exceptional" and "distinctive"
(words that appear numerous times throughout the
book) process of American interest group politics that
he celebrates so blindly, however, is much more com-
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plicated than Lorenz's account of these advocates'
ability to "win" in the policy arena (p. 224).
The real question is: win what? Here the argument
driving Lorenz's otherwise fine research smacks of a
nasty imperialism, in which he believes that bringing
the beauty and wonder of American civil and political
society to the rest of the world is an unmitigated good.
Mexicans, he believes, come to the United States
because they love the open-ended civil society and the
freedom to organize, and the ILO promises to bring
that exceptional model to the world. Never mind that
Human Rights Watch condemns U.S. labor rights as
grossly inadequate or that countless immigration researchers have found the United States a cold and
hostile place for immigrants or that the ILO itself is
hardly a paragon of participatory democracy. In the
end, it is unclear whether Lorenz's triumphant story is
making the case for U.S. exceptionalism as he wishes,
or a case for ideological imperialism that he seems
blind to, or whether he is unconsciously making the
case that they are the same thing.
JEFFERSON COWIE
Cornell University
MARIAN C. McKENNA. Franklin Roosevelt and the Great
Constitutional War: The Court-Packing Crisis of 1937.
New York: Fordham University Press. 2002. Pp. xxvi,
612. $60.00.
Why have many of the greatest presidents had dramatic confrontations with the Supreme Court? Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and Franklin D.
Roosevelt each had a well-publicized dispute that
threatened to diminish the judicial branch. Part of the
greatness of these presidents was apparently their
willingness to exploit the power of the office and push
their authority. Perhaps no one went further than
Roosevelt with his ill-fated attempt to pack a Court
antithetical to his policy designs.
In her book on the Court-packing plan, Marian C.
McKenna argues that most analyses of the Supreme
Court's devastation of the New Deal and Roosevelt's
subsequent battle with the Court have misplaced
blame and praise. But if past studies erred in excoriating the Court and exonerating the president, this
book errs in the opposite direction. For instance, often
the author uses personal papers, biographies, and
autobiographies to reveal decisions and tactics, and
she is quick to dismiss Roosevelt's and his allies'
justifications as disingenuous while accepting the
stated motivations of the president's opponents.
The book is meticulously researched and reads like
a well-written mystery, but it is not without problems.
Indeed, the author does such a good job with the
narrative that those unfamiliar with history would be
surprised to discover that Roosevelt won re-election
twice after this fiasco and is considered a great president. Yet how could such a great leader launch an
initiative that was doomed from the outset?
McKenna's narrative does not give enough credence
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Canada and the United States
to the context. Little attention is directed to the
economic ravages that led voters to turn the engines tJf
government over to the Democrats and relegated the
Republicans to a faint shadow. The New Deal marked
a radical departure in the nature of the presidency and
government. Legislation was admittedly experimental
and passed hastily to cope with the Great Depression.
This political revolution, the very definition of a
partisan realignment, was a recipe for institutional
conflict. The executive and legislative branches were
turned over to the party that had been out of power for
a generation, while the judiciary remained in the hands
of those who had been turned out of office. As Mr.
Dooley noted, "the Supreme Court follows the election returns." The Court cannot long withstand the will
of the elected branches.
The author is reluctant to concede that there are
legitimate disagreements over the nature of constitutional theory. Questions such as "should the Constitution be adapted to the times" and "what is the
appropriate definition of judicial restraint" are enduring. While McKenna argues that this incident created
a precedent that such attacks would be futile and
would engender public approbation, the Court has
hardly been free from attacks on its jurisdiction over
the past fifty years.
The author does an excellent job tracing the transformation of the dispute from Roosevelt's attack on
the Court to his confrontation with Congress and how
the "war" was perpetuated even after the battle had
apparently been won. The Court's "retreat," marked
most notably by the NLRB v. Jones and Laughlin Steel
Co. decision (1937), made Roosevelt's attack less
necessary. Roosevelt could argue that Justice Owen J.
Roberts's change of heart might be ephemeral, and
only permanent institutional alterations would insure
the results he sought. But once Justice Willis Van
Devanter retired, any momentum was gone. Still,
Roosevelt continued his quixotic battle against the
legislative branch and for control of his party. Roosevelt's contempt for the Court was not satisfied by the
Court's retreat or the chance to appoint his own
justice. According to Lucas Powe, his first appointee,
Hugo Black was nominated to enrage the Senate and
diminish the Court (The Warren Court and American
Politics [2000], p. 5).
McKenna demonstrates that Roberts's supposed
"switch in time that saved nine" occurred before
blatant pressure from the White House. But Roberts
could not fail to understand the tumult surrounding
the Court's decisions even in advance of the CourtPacking plan. The apparent switch came a mere month
after the 1936 landslide and with the Court already
subject to all forms of criticism.
McKenna (p. 435) dismisses the idea that the
Court's retreat, whatever the motivations, represented
a constitutional revolution. These decisions stood federalism and commerce clause jurisprudence on its
head and led to the preferred position doctrine that
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changed civil rights and individual liberties. What
would constitute a revolution?
In the end, despite its problems, this is an important
study that makes a definitive contribution. But it
should be read in conjunction with one of the many
studies that takes a more favorable view of Roosevelt
as a means of achieving some balance.
RICHARD L. PACELLE, JR.
Georgia Southern University
PAUL C. RosiER. Rebirth of the Blackfeet Nation, 19121954. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. 2001. Pp.
xiii, 346. $65.00.
Paul C. Rosier's study of the Blackfeet Nation's acceptance and exercise of the Wheeler-Howard or Indian
Reorganization Act (IRA) illustrates how simplistic
has been the general portrayal of the IRA as a failure.
Through extensive archival research, personal interviews, and the use of democratic political theory,
Rosier brings the agency of Blackfeet political leaders
to the fore. The struggles of contending intrareservation groups receive as much attention as their ongoing
negotiations with federal administrators. Rosier's verdict that the IRA benefitted the Blackfeet is not born
of nai:Vete.
Rosier broadens the scope of analysis of the IRA
from the bleak economic decades preceding its passage in 1934 to 1954, well beyond the traditional
stopping point of John Collier's resignation in 1945.
This clearly shows not only that Blackfeet political
activism cannot have hinged solely on the career of one
man in Washington, D.C., but also that successful
political organizing preceded both the IRA and the
termination era.
Stark poverty on the Blackfeet reservation in the
early twentieth century went unrelieved by any policy
measures put in place by Office of Indian Affairs
(OIA) administrators. This fact underpinned the desires of Blackfeet leaders of all political stripes to wrest
some measure of control from the federal government.
Most advocated developing their oil reserves in the
face of OIA opposition. However, they could seldom
concur about the contours of what should take the
place of OIA paternalism. Wealthy Blackfeet elite
used the Blackfeet Tribal Business Committee
(BTBC) to facilitate their own economic interests and
those of outside developers, while older, more impoverished residents favored per capita payments to
equalize the distribution of tribal revenues. Achieving
a meaningful and lasting compromise was an elusive
but persistent goal.
The IRA provided useful tools in the form of a
democratic political structure and a revolving loan
fund to support economic development. Many benefitted, but some fared better than others. The BTBC
became a focal point for ongoing political organizing
and activism. Older, more collectively oriented residents who were less familiar with the workings of the
market economy tended to be frozen out of political
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