by Curt Gentry
It was also young Hoover who arranged with the Army for the loan of the ship and the troops who would serve as guards; who jokingly requested maps of Russia from the Military Intelligence Division so that he could familiarize himself with “the vacation that a few of our anarchist friends will take shortly”;4 and who now, at dockside, played host to the small group of dignitaries who had come to see the ship off, pointing out that yes, that stout, somewhat dowdy, middle-aged woman was indeed the “Red Queen of Anarchy” and that cadaverously thin old man with the limp and thick bifocals, her infamous paramour.
The secret sailing of the Buford had been rushed so that the aliens could not appeal their cases in court. Because of this—and also because the ship sailed at 4:15 on a cold December morning—the bon voyage party was not large, consisting of Hoover, Flynn, Caminetti, various Army officers, and several members of the House Immigration and Naturalization Committee. No friends or relatives were present. Most of the deportees were so hastily rounded up that they weren’t able to obtain adequate clothing for the winter voyage, while dozens of families remained behind without any means of support. Some of the wives did not hear for days what had happened to their husbands.
According to Hoover’s own recollections, as Goldman climbed the gangplank, one of the congressmen yelled, “Merry Christmas, Emma,” to which the godless anarchist responded with a thumb to her nose.5
Arranging the deportation of Alexander Berkman hadn’t been all that difficult for Hoover. Because he did not believe in governments, Berkman had never taken out citizenship; he was an admitted anarchist; and he had, at least once in his life, not only advocated but resorted to the use of violence. In 1892 Berkman had attempted to end the Homestead Steel strike by assassinating the Carnegie Company manager Henry Clay Frick. Instead he’d merely wounded Frick, turned sympathy away from the strikers, and earned himself fourteen years in prison.
Unlike the case of Berkman, that of Emma Goldman had presented certain problems. For one, she was a citizen by virtue of having married a naturalized citizen. For another, although she proudly admitted to being an anarchist, her anarchism was of the philosophical variety; she personally disavowed violence and had so stated in many of her speeches and publications.
The revocation of her former husband’s citizenship took care of Emma’s. Out-of-context quotations from her magazine Mother Earth and other writings made it appear she espoused revolution by any means. Probably her longtime liaison with Berkman and her arrest record (with convictions for inciting to riot, publicly advocating birth control, and obstructing the draft) were sufficient proof of her lack of moral character, but, taking no chances, Hoover also charged her with complicity in a number of crimes in which he knew, from his own records, she’d played no part, such as the 1910 bombing of the Los Angeles Times.
Most damning of all, he presented evidence “proving” that Emma Goldman had been responsible for the assassination of President William McKinley. It was not a new charge. It had, in fact, been disproven eighteen years earlier, shortly after the assassination took place.
On September 6, 1901, McKinley had been standing in a reception line at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York, when Leon Czolgosz, a young Polish-American factory worker, ignored the President’s outstretched hand and instead shot him twice in the chest at point-blank range. McKinley died eight days later.
Interrogated by the Buffalo police, Czolgosz confessed that he was an “anarchist” and that he had decided on his “own instructions” to kill the president because “McKinley was going around the country shouting prosperity when there was no prosperity for the poor man.”6
Attempts to link Goldman to the crime were immediate. A not untypical headline the next day read, “Assassin of President McKinley an Anarchist. Confesses to Having Been Incited by Emma Goldman. Woman Anarchist Wanted.”7
Arrested in Chicago, Goldman was put through the third degree and, minus a few teeth, held for two weeks while the case against her was prepared for the grand jury.
There was a link between Czolgosz and Goldman, although it was not the Svengali teacher-pupil relationship portrayed in the press. Goldman had met Czolgosz twice. Some months earlier he’d attended one of her public lectures in Cleveland, after which he’d asked her for some literature. Several weeks later he’d showed up at the office of an anarchist newspaper in Chicago while Emma was there. Rushing to catch a train, she didn’t have time to answer his questions, instead referring him to some of her comrades, who, soon convinced that he was an agent provocateur because of his obsession with violence, printed a warning to that effect in their newspaper.
Despite the nationwide hysteria following the president’s murder, Emma Goldman was released, the grand jury finding “No Evidence against Emma Goldman.”8
Perhaps this was because the grand jury was given Czolgosz’s actual confession, in which he stated that he had acted alone, and in which he had denied—though the police had tried hard to get him to imply otherwise—that Goldman or anyone else was involved.
Eighteen years later, Hoover also introduced Czolgosz’s confession in his case against Emma Goldman. Or, rather, part of it. In the following, italics indicate the unmarked ellipses, the sections Hoover chose to leave out:
Q: “You believe it is right to kill if necessary, don’t you?”
A: “Yes, sir.”
Q: “Have you ever taken any obligation or sworn any oath to kill anybody; you have, haven’t you; look up and speak; haven’t you done that?”
A: “No, sir.”
Q: “Who was the last one you heard talk?”
A: “Emma Goldman.”
Q: “You heard her say it would be a good thing if all these rulers were wiped off the face of the earth?”
A: “She didn’t say that.”
Q: “What did she say or what did she say to you about the president?”
A: “She says—she didn’t mention no presidents at all; she mentioned the government.”
Q: “What did she say about it?”
A: “She said she didn’t believe in it.”
Q: “And that all those who supported the government ought to be destroyed; did she believe in that?”
A: “She didn’t say they ought to be destroyed.”
Q: “You wanted to help her on in her work, and thought this was the best way to do it; was that your idea; or if you have any other idea, tell us what it was?”
A: “She didn’t tell me to do it.”
Q: “You got the idea that she thought it would be a good thing if we didn’t have this form of government?”
A: “Yes, sir.”9
It was with such doctored evidence that John Edgar Hoover won his first big case, which resulted in the deportation of Emma Goldman.
As the deportees sailed past the still-young Statue of Liberty, her torch beckoning Europe’s “huddled masses yearning to breathe free,” embarked on a one-way passage to a county whose government would prove even less sympathetic to anarchists and free speech than the country they had just left, Hoover returned to Washington to find there was a very good chance the raids would not take place.
8
The Facts Are a Matter of Record
The obstacle to the raids was William B. Wilson, the country’s first secretary of labor.
Himself a former coal miner, Wilson had opposed many, if not all, of the actions against the IWW. But Wilson had much else on his mind during the summer and fall of 1919—not only was he ill but both his wife and his mother were dying—and for long periods he was absent from his office, leaving many of the day-to-day decisions of his department to his subordinates.
Although Wilson had agreed with Hoover’s contention that membership in the Communist party of America was a deportable offense, when he returned to work on December 24 he discovered that Hoover had submitted three thousand warrants of arrest.
Shocked at the number and apparently learning for the first time that the Justice Department intended to
conduct another mass roundup, Wilson called a high-level conference in his office that night. Present at the Christmas Eve meeting, in addition to Wilson, were Assistant Secretary of Labor Louis Post, Solicitor General John W. Abercrombie, and Immigration Commissioner Caminetti. Of the four, only Caminetti was in favor of the raids. Several things bothered Wilson and the others.
First was the Labor Department’s inability to handle such a large number of cases.
Second, the affidavits of probable cause were “flimsy,” almost devoid of proof; in nearly all the cases, there was only the name of the alien and the unsupported allegation that he was a party member. The reason for this, Wilson was told, was that the GID did not want to identify its informants. In short, one had to take Hoover’s word that such proof existed.
Third, and even more basic, how real was the threat? Was there, as Palmer asserted, a revolution in the making? Except for the still-unsolved bombings, no one in the Labor Department had seen any evidence of this. Again it was the matter of one man’s word, that of Palmer, plus Caminetti’s fanatic espousal of it.*
Apparently that was enough. They decided to go along with the attorney general. But Wilson added a condition. Abercrombie, who was acting secretary of labor in Wilson’s absence, was instructed to treat each case individually, on its merits; in addition, the mere assertion of membership would not be enough—it had to be accompanied by some evidence of wrongdoing.
Hoover couldn’t have been too happy with this news, which must have reached him late that night. Yet it’s possible that he already knew that the problem was not insurmountable.
Hoover spent Christmas Day with his parents, with whom he was still living. It was an especially festive occasion, for Hoover’s one close friend from college days, Frank Baughman, was present and celebrating his first Christmas back in the United States. On his return from France, Baughman had joined the Bureau of Investigation, Flynn accepting him on Hoover’s recommendation.
Dickerson and Annie Hoover had reason to be proud of their youngest. Although he had been in the Justice Department less than three years, he already headed one of its largest and most important units and was considered one of the attorney general’s most trusted aides.
But even though it was a holiday, J.E. was unable to relax. He was on the telephone a good portion of the day, making calls or receiving them.
On Christmas Eve, Solicitor General Abercrombie had joined Wilson and Post in opposing the raids.
On the day after Christmas, ignoring entirely Secretary Wilson’s conditions, Abercrombie signed all three thousand of the arrest warrants, without requiring any additional proof.
What caused Abercrombie to go against the instructions of his superior remains a mystery. All that is known is that Abercrombie was a Palmer appointee and may have felt a greater loyalty to the presidential hopeful than to his own boss.
With the warrants signed, BI Chief Flynn gave the go-ahead.
On December 27, Flynn’s chief assistant, Frank Burke, wired secret instructions to the U.S. attorneys in the thirty-three cities where the raids would occur, notifying them, “For your personal information…the tentative date for the arrest of the Communists is Friday, January 2, 1920.”
There is no better evidence of the thoroughness with which the two Communist parties had been infiltrated than the paragraph which followed:
“If possible you should arrange with your under-cover informants to have meetings of the Communist Party and Communist Labor Party held on the night set. I have been informed by some of the bureau officers that such arrangements will be made. This, of course, would facilitate the making of the arrests.”
That the informants could schedule party meetings whenever they chose indicated the high level of their penetration.
Apparently convinced that the Constitution did not apply to aliens—or citizens, for that matter—Burke in his instructions violated one after another of its provisions.
In addition to raiding the meeting halls, agents were to search the residences of party officials and to seize all literature, books, papers, membership lists, records, and correspondence, plus “anything hanging on the walls.” (The walls themselves were to be sounded and, if believed hollow, broken down.) “I leave entirely to your discretion as to the methods by which you gain access to such places,” Burke instructed. “If, due to the local conditions in your territory, you find that it is absolutely necessary for you to obtain a search warrant for the premises, you should communicate with the local authorities a few hours before the time of the arrests.”
Anyone apprehended was to be searched immediately. There was no mention of informing them of their rights, or even an assumption that they had any. As soon as the subjects were apprehended, the agents “should endeavor to obtain from them, if possible, admissions that they are members of either of these parties, together with any statement concerning their citizenship status.” Burke did not spell out the means to be employed in obtaining such admissions. If anyone was apprehended for whom there was no arrest warrant, Burke stated, a warrant should be requested from the local immigration office. Burke noted that it was not desired that American citizens be arrested, “at this time,” but that if they were, their cases should be referred to the local authorities.
To Hoover’s embarrassment in later years, his name was mentioned frequently in Burke’s secret instructions:
“On the evening of the arrests, this office will be open the entire night, and I desire that you communicate by long distance to Mr. Hoover any matters of vital importance or interest which may arise during the course of the arrests.…I desire that the morning following the arrests you should forward to this office by special delivery, marked for the ‘Attention of Mr. Hoover,’ a complete list of the names of the persons arrested, with an indication of residence, or organization to which they belong, and whether or not they were included in the original list of warrants…I desire that the morning following the arrests that you communicate in detail by telegram ‘Attention Mr. Hoover,’ the results of the arrests made, giving the total number of persons of each organization taken into custody, together with a statement of any interesting evidence secured.”3
Hoover was again mentioned in Burke’s “extremely confidential” final instructions which were sent to all Department of Justice agents just before midnight on December 31: “Arrests should all be completed…by Saturday morning, January 3, 1920, and full reports reported by Special Delivery addressed to Mr. Hoover.”4
These instructions were occasioned by a late development, a belated Christmas present, as it were, from Mr. Caminetti to Mr. Hoover.
The previous day Caminetti had persuaded Abercrombie to revise Rule 22. Under the revised rule, the alien was to be advised of his right to counsel, “preferably at the beginning of the hearing…or at any rate as soon as such hearing has proceeded sufficiently in the development of the facts to protect the Government’s interests…”5
But, in his last instructions, Burke made it clear that no one was to be accorded that right until the Justice Department was good and ready. “Person or persons taken into custody shall not be permitted to communicate with any outside persons until after examination by this office and until permission is given by this office.”6
In all this there was one voice of sanity, although it came much too late and was, unfortunately, none too assertive.
Returning to his office on December 30, Labor Secretary Wilson discovered that Abercrombie had ignored his instructions and that the mass roundup was imminent. Protesting to Palmer, by memo, that it would be “impossible to immediately dispose” of three thousand cases, he suggested that instead of a nationwide raid the cases be presented individually, as they were developed.*7
Palmer did answer Wilson, stating that the simultaneous raids were preferable since individual arrests would remove the element of surprise and permit the radicals to escape and hide or destroy incriminating evidence. But he waited until after the raids to send Wilson his repl
y.
Nineteen twenty was an election year, and began accordingly.
The state’s attorney of Cook County, Illinois (a Republican), did not wish the attorney general of the United States (a Democratic presidential hopeful) to reap all the glory in the great Red hunt, so he conducted his own Communist raids, in Chicago and its environs, on New Year’s Day, twenty-four hours before the federal raids were scheduled to occur.
Although this caused some confusion for the Chicago BI chief, Jacob Spolansky, and his men, the raids in the other thirty-two cities went off more or less as scheduled, at 8:30 P.M. local time on January 2, 1920.
Spolansky encountered still other problems, which were probably common to most of the raiding parties. Competing for membership, the two American Communist parties had issued red membership cards to anyone who would take them. Also, whole branches of the Socialist party, as well as several of the foreign-language associations, had automatically transferred their memberships en masse to one or the other party, frequently without the knowledge of the individual members. Spolansky later recalled the following all-too-typical dialogue:
SPOLANSKY: “Why do you have that red card?”
ALIEN: “They told me my card is passport.”
SPOLANSKY: “Passport? For what?”
