The Riddle of Amish Culture

by Donald B. Kraybill

  There are some restrictions, however, even around the barn. Steel wheels are mandatory. Pneumatic tires, initially associated with the car, came to symbolize freedom and mobility—and hence worldliness. Thus, over the years the Amish have rejected pneumatic tires on farm equipment, fearing they might lead to the car. Hard rubber tires and pneumatic tires are permitted on small hand-held items such as wheelbarrows, tricycles, wagons, and feed carts. However, the steel-wheel restriction applies to all machinery pulled by horses—wagons, corn pickers, balers, and so forth.

  A front-end forklift on a tractor to hoist heavy items up to a second floor is acceptable as a necessity. However, a front-end manure loader, which would lessen the work of family members, is off-limits. In some church districts, small Caterpillar-like tractors push and load manure inside barns. In other districts, they are forbidden. Many businesses use small forklifts to load and unload goods. For safety reasons and because of pressure from shop owners in the 1990s, the church permitted hard rubber on the wheels of forklifts.

  TABLE 9.1

  General Patterns of Farm Equipment Use

  Preventing tractors from replacing horses in the field marked a major turning point in Amish history. It maintained the pace of the past and offered daily evidence that the Amish had not capitulated to modernity. The tractor would not separate them from the soil, their past, their identity, or their families. Thus, by the mid-twentieth century, the horse in the field had become a cogent symbol of Amish identity—a symbolism underscored by nearby Old Order Mennonites who used steel-wheeled tractors in their fields.

  MECHANIZED HORSE FARMING

  Today horses and mules pull modern farm implements in Amish fields. This unusual union of tradition and modernity jelled in the mid-1960s. Before the 1950s, the Amish used traditional horse-drawn equipment to harvest their crops. Grain binders and grass mowers, for example, were powered by their own “ground-driven” wheels.

  Numerous factors converged in the 1950s to create strong pressures for change. Farming became more specialized as dairy farms took the lead. Farmers who began with eight cows in the 1930s expanded their herds to twenty-four or even thirty-six. The use of commercial fertilizer and alfalfa produced three to four crops of hay per year. Like other farmers, the Amish had traditionally stored hay loose in their barns. The expanding dairy herds and larger hay crops created storage problems. Farmers had to either limit their herds, build larger barns, or find new ways to store their hay.

  The engineers of progress had been tinkering with a solution. Hay balers, pulled by tractors through the field, were able to pack loose hay into tight rectangular bales that were easy to haul and stack in the barn. The tightly compressed bales alleviated the storage problem. After World War II, hay balers became popular among American farmers. Some non-Amish farmers began baling hay for the Amish in the early 1950s. And by 1955, several Amish farmers had purchased their own hay balers. Pulled by horses, the balers were powered by a gasoline engine installed at the factory. It seemed like an innocent turn of events, but it was a revolution of sorts, for it was the first widespread use of gasoline engines in Amish fields.20 Surprisingly, church leaders said little about it. Economic forces propelling the dairy industry as well as the hay storage problem had forced the bishops’ hand. Besides, the baler conformed to the old bishop’s favorite dictum: “If you can pull it with horses, you can have it.”

  Amish oral historians report that the hay baler stirred little agitation in the church. One leader reflected: “It surprised me that the baler slipped through.” By 1960 the baler had slipped onto many Amish farms, and when the bishops drew up a list of taboo equipment in the early 1960s, it was conspicuously missing.21 Shunning the baler would have been foolish for both political and financial reasons. Some limits, however, were placed on the baler. Labor-saving bale throwers, which automatically tossed bales onto wagons behind the baler, were forbidden. And steel wheels, of course, were placed on the balers.

  Other issues incubating in the early 1960s also brought change and controversy. Manufacturers of farm equipment were producing large, heavy machinery designed for powerful tractors. New horse-drawn machinery was becoming scarce, so the Amish began buying old-fashioned used machinery in other parts of the country. But this pool started to shrink. Commercial fertilizers, hybrid seed, and improved methods of cultivation produced bumper crops that were difficult to harvest with antiquated equipment.

  With horse-drawn machinery scarce, some bold farmers, knowing the baler had slipped into use and feeling the pressure for increased productivity, began using modern corn harvesters and wheat combines. In the past, the Amish had used “ground-driven” binders pulled by horses to cut their corn and wheat. The new corn harvesters chopped green corn in the field and blew it into a trailing wagon. The silage was then hauled to the barn and blown into silos for storage. The corn harvester was a boon to the dairy farmer because chopped corn silage was a prime source of feed. The combine was a modern threshing machine that cut and threshed wheat in the field in one operation.

  Meeting in 1960, the Amish bishops singled out the harvester and the combine as two inventions they would not tolerate. Several factors likely explain the ban. First, the modern harvesters and combines on nearby non-Amish farms were self-propelled.22 The horse-pulled corn harvesters and wheat combines, already slipping into use on some Amish farms, might eventually lead to self-propelled units. Second, the lenient bishops had already “looked the other way” when the hay baler slipped in. Why, they reasoned, let another labor-saving device slip through? They had to draw the line somewhere in order to govern the expansionist impulses of farmers. Unlike the baler, the corn harvester did not improve storage. It just saved labor and time, and that was no excuse for tolerance. Third, as dairy operations flourished, wheat and tobacco were in decline.23 The combines used for harvesting wheat were not critical for the survival of dairy farmers. The few acres of wheat farmed by the Amish could still be cut with old-fashioned, ground-driven binders and threshed at the barn in traditional ways. Although the bishops would tolerate the hay baler, the economic and political pressures were not strong enough to persuade them to endorse corn harvesters and combines.

  FARM MACHINERY PUZZLES

  A new development in the fall of 1960 sealed the fate of the modern corn harvester for at least several decades. An inventive Amish farmer mounted a gasoline engine on a corn binder designed to be pulled and powered by a tractor. Using the gasoline engine to cut the corn, he could pull the tractor binder with his horses. Until this time, old-fashioned ground-driven binders were used to cut green corn for silage. The inventive farmer explained: “We put engines on the corn binders because there weren’t enough ground-driven binders around anymore and to keep away from the combines and harvesters.” Amish mechanics soon began making replacement parts for the binders, which were no longer manufactured. It was a watershed in the evolution of Amish technology: the Amish could now move beyond simple ground-driven machinery. By mounting engines on equipment designed for tractors, they could increase productivity, use modern equipment, eliminate the need for large self-propelled models, and still keep horses and mules plodding across their fields. Rather than being dominated by modern farm technology, the Amish had redesigned it to fit their moral order.

  A state-of-the-art round baler is pulled by horses. A large engine mounted on the baler provides power. The rubber tires are permitted because the baler is jointly owned with a non-Amish neighbor.

  Using engines to power field equipment was another bargain that delicately balanced a variety of factors; it (1) kept the modern harvester off Amish fields, (2) retained the symbolic horse, (3) provided plenty of work for farm hands, (4) permitted silage harvesting to continue according to tradition, (5) eliminated the difficulty of buying scarce ground-driven binders, (6) created new jobs for Amish mechanics who manufactured replacement parts, (7) provided extra power to cut the larger varieties of hybrid crops, (8) enabled dairy farmers to remain financially compet
itive, and (9) opened a way for the bishops to escape from their political quandary.

  The bishops negotiated a deal that has lasted for more than four decades. In essence, they said: “You may use modern farm equipment powered by gasoline engines as long as you pull it with horses, but you may not use self-propelled equipment.” The farmer who mounted the first engine on the corn binder described the technological watershed innocently: “I just mounted it [the engine] on to see if it would work. There was no meeting with the ministers and bishops. It didn’t make no ruckus.” But it was a historic compromise that cleared the way for gasoline engines to be installed on other farm equipment—the hay crimper (1960), corn picker (1965), grass mower (1966), and eventually the roto beater, round baler, and sprayer.

  The riddle of pulling modern implements with horses is indeed a compromise between modernity and tradition, a way of keeping the horse in the field and the family on the farm while tapping new power sources to harvest robust crops and increase productivity.

  THE BREACH OF 1966

  The increased mechanization was welcomed by most farmers, but for some it was too little too late. Their impatience set the stage for the division of 1966. Despite two world wars, the Depression, and rapid social change, things had been relatively quiet among the Amish since the cleavage of 1910. They had struggled with a variety of changes, none of which had induced a schism. The serenity broke in the late 1950s. Pennsylvania farmers were rapidly adopting mechanized field equipment, modern milking machines, and barn cleaners. Banks encouraged Amish farmers to enlarge their operations, and dairy herds were expanding.

  Joining the tide of mechanization, Amish farmers in several districts began using haybines, wheat combines, and corn harvesters to harvest their crops. Others installed mechanical barn cleaners to clean manure from their barns. A few enterprising farmers even hooked electric generators to their diesel engines to make 110-volt electricity for light bulbs, home freezers, and appliances.

  In 1960, the bishops met and identified six worldly items—combines, forage harvesters, barn cleaners, power units (“Amish tractors”), electric generators, and deep freezers—that they wanted “put away” before they got completely out of hand. Outlawing these items, which had been slipping onto Amish farms, was easier said than done. A number of bishops had difficulty enforcing the decrees, and others were reluctant to act because some of their members had been using the items for several years. The bishops agreed to permit generators to be used for welders, but they would not budge on the other issues.

  In the fall of 1962, twenty bishops assembled and agreed once again to prohibit these worldly items. In December 1962, a special all-day meeting of 140 ordained ministers, deacons, and bishops was called to discuss the volatile issues. The bishops gave persuasive talks on the need to “hold the line” on the six items and urged the ministers to help “clean them out.” Most of the ordained men supported the eradication effort, but leaders in several districts, obviously hedging, gave qualified responses to the bishops’ requests. The hesitant ministers were in a quandary—caught between the requests of senior bishops and the enormous consequences back home if they forced their members to get rid of the six conveniences.24 Another special Ministers’ Meeting in July 1964 also failed to resolve the impasse.

  Consequently, during the spring and summer of 1966, about one hundred families severed ties with the Old Order Amish and began worshiping separately. These New Order Amish formed two church districts and by 1967 added a third.25 They accepted the controversial items and also used tractors in their fields and electricity in their homes. Abandoning another Amish marker, some New Orders placed rubber tires on their tractors and used them not only in the fields but also on the road for errands and shopping. Disagreements over the use of tobacco, cars, and other conveniences eventually fragmented the New Order group, leaving only one viable district by 2000.

  Forklifts are widely used in shops to move products. Hard rubber tires are permitted to ease turning on concrete floors. This shop produces steel garbage containers.

  MORE TEMPTATIONS

  The social fabric of the Old Order Amish has not been rent since 1966—an amazing feat in the face of much subsequent change. Ridding themselves of the progressives in 1966 fortified the Amish taboo on combines, harvesters, barn cleaners, power units, electric generators, and deep freezers. These items remain forbidden by the Ordnung, except that generators may now be used for welders, bulk tanks, and recharging batteries.

  Why would barn cleaners appear on the bishops’ taboo list? As the dairy herds expanded in the 1950s, barn cleaners became popular. Small paddles, pulled by motor-driven chains, cleaned the manure from gutters in dairy barns and saved an enormous amount of hand labor. The barn cleaners troubled the bishops in three ways: they required electricity, they would leave Amish boys idle, and they were a license for expansion. Farmers who had already doubled their herds from twelve to twenty-four cows would soon be expanding their herds again if they could clean their gutters so easily. Forbidding barn cleaners was a way of braking the burgeoning dairy business. Consequently, the cleaners were banned.

  In the 1970s and 1980s, high milk prices and easy credit tempted Amish farmers once again. To the dismay of some leaders, many herds were doubled, with up to forty-eight cows—still a modest number in contrast to the hundred-cow herds of their non-Amish neighbors. Because no one enjoys the sloppy work of cleaning up after four dozen cows, farmers devised two detours around the bishops’ taboo on mechanical cleaners. Some cleaned their barns by scraping the manure through the gutters with a cable paddle pulled by a mule. Others installed liquid manure pits by digging “basements” beneath the barns at considerable expense. These liquid manure pits hold the slop as it drains out of the gutters by gravity. The manure is then pumped from the pit into a tank spreader, which scatters it over the fields.

  Reflecting on the barn cleaner taboo in light of twenty-five years of history, an Amish minister said that the leaders “made a big mistake with the barn cleaner. They should have never tried to stop it, because these pits and stuff are so expensive.” Although they were unwilling to renege on their 1960 decree, leaders did permit Amish farmers to devise alternative ways to clean their barns. These new barn-cleaning methods pay respect to traditional authority and, at the same time, ease the burden of work that accompanies a larger herd. It is a gentleman’s stand-off. The farmers have respected the letter of the law by not installing mechanical cleaners, and the bishops have respected the dirty work of farming by not clamping down on the new methods, which pay polite deference to tradition.

  TABLE 9.2

  Selected Technological Adaptions by Approximate Date of Use

  In order to limit herd size, church leaders added other restrictions for dairy farmers. Amish farmers had been using mechanical milking machines for many years, but they carried the milk to the milk house in buckets. In the 1960s and 1970s many non-Amish farmers replaced their milk buckets with glass pipe lines. Pumped through the pipe lines, the milk flowed directly from the cow stable to an adjacent milk house, thus eliminating the need for buckets. By outlawing these popular pipe lines, church leaders hoped to stifle expansion and preserve work for Amish boys. Furthermore, shiny glass pipes in Amish barns seemed a bit too modern. They looked worldly and certainly seemed out of character with Amish modesty. Today Amish farmers either carry their milk in buckets or transport it in a small wagon-sized tank from the cow stable to the milk house.

  Two developments in the 1990s prompted new controversies. Some farmers experimented with large round balers. Instead of creating rectangular bales, the new balers rolled the hay into large bales that could be stored outside or wrapped in plastic to make haylage. Pulled by horses, these state-of-the-art round balers stirred debate in the church but were gradually accepted in some districts. Another issue surfaced in the summer of 2000, when several farmers took the bold step of replacing their corn binders with modern forage harvesters, pulled by horses. This move creat
ed intense controversy because harvesters had been banned in 1966. Ironically, scarce labor was one of the reasons that made the harvesters tempting. Farmers had difficulty finding help because Amish boys were landing well-paying jobs in shops and construction. In any event, the bishops who remembered the earlier ban on harvesters were very annoyed.

  The bishops’ rejection in the early 1960s of the six items, with the exception of the household freezer, is seen by thoughtful elders as a sincere attempt to arrest social change, limit the size of farm operations, and keep the family on the farm. Describing those pivotal decisions, a farmer said: “I can’t give enough credit to our leaders for keeping us back from large equipment, tractors, combines, and harvesters. They stressed not having big equipment and said that if we allow big equipment we’ll go in debt and need more land to pay if off and it will break up the family farm.”

  The division of 1966 became a benchmark in Amish history. It was a time when key understandings became inscribed in the Ordnung. Horses would stay in the field. Plodding symbols of Amish identity, they would set the pace of things and curb expansionist tendencies. Self-propelled harvesters, combines, and haybines were outlawed, probably forever. Modern farm machinery—mowers, balers, sprayers, corn pickers, all powered by engines—would be tolerated if pulled by horses. And so the Amish farmers who baffle Moderns by pulling state-of-the-art balers through the fields with mules are not ridiculous. They are simply yielding to a reasonable compromise with modernity, an agreement that respects tradition, curtails expansion, provides labor, protects ethnic identity, and permits just enough technology for economic growth. It has become a good bargain—one that harnesses the power of progress in creative and positive ways for the welfare of the community.