On Dupont Circle: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt and the
Progressives Who Shaped Our World
By James Srodes
(Counterpoint Press, 325 pages, $25)
HISTORY HAS ITS OWN ADDRESS BOOK. Over the centuries many major
events and movements have been named after the buildings or
neighborhoods they started in. The bloodthirsty Jacobins of French
Revolution infamy first met to scheme and carouse in what had
originally been a Jacobin convent in Paris; hence their name. The
Bloomsbury Group of “advanced” writers and Fabian socialists took
theirs from the London neighborhood many of them frequented. A
little later, the Cliveden Set, a fashionable clique of English
appeasers in the pre–World War II years, spent a lot of time
plotting and partying at “Cliveden,” the country seat of the
recently ennobled Astor family. Virginia-born Lady Nancy Astor, the
first woman member of Parliament and a longtime verbal sparring
partner of Winston Churchill, was one of the group’s leading
lights, although she did more plotting than partying, being a
strict teetotaler.
Closer to home, political groups and perspectives have often
been given shorthand addresses: “Capitol Hill” for congressional
interests, “Pennsylvania Avenue” for the executive branch based at
the White House complex there, and “Foggy Bottom” (the neighborhood
housing the massive Department of State building) for the career
diplomatic take on foreign policy… and then there’s “Pentagon,” the
shorthand appellation for the military angle on defense interests
and issues, after the mega-building housing the Joint Chiefs.
In his latest book, veteran author and journalist James Srodes
contributes a new entry to history’s address book: Dupont Circle.
From the late 19th century through the middle of the 20th, Dupont
Circle was the neighborhood that housed most of Washington’s
society and power elites, not to mention many of their aspirants
and imitators. It spread out from Connecticut Avenue, the site of
the city’s most elegant apartment buildings and many smaller shops
more fashionable than the big downtown department stores.
Connecticut Avenue was a kind of “High Street” for this upscale
town-within-a-town; long before the cramped row houses of
Georgetown had been transformed from slum dwellings to “Georgian
townhouses,” Dupont Circle was where most of the people who
mattered lived and socialized. It was a very small world where
everybody knew everybody else.
I know, because my paternal grandfather’s house was in the
neighborhood, on R Street not that far from the post-presidential
residence of Woodrow Wilson. My father recalled often seeing the
semi-senile former president waving and acknowledging the cheers of
passersby—real and imaginary—from the back seat of his touring car.
In front of his commercial building on Connecticut Avenue,
grandfather Bakshian frequently exchanged greetings with a less
moribund former president, the elephantine William Howard Taft, who
had gone on to become Chief Justice of the United States. Another
member of the Supreme Court, Justice James Clark McReynolds, often
stopped by to chat, as did a silver-haired Tennessee senator named
Cordell Hull, who became FDR’s first secretary of state—and who is
an important member of the supporting cast in Mr. Srodes’ book.
My family also happened to own a small property on 19th Street
just a block below the “House of Truth,” the guest house where
several of the principal characters of this fascinating historical
tableau lodged and/or socialized as they scaled the ladder to
position and influence even as America began its ascent to
superpowerdom. Not too far away, on N Street, a young power couple
named Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt (he was assistant secretary of
the navy) had their own salon of sometimes overlapping players,
and, just off Connecticut Avenue a few blocks away, stood
the—alas—now demolished National Presbyterian Church where Abraham
Lincoln had worshipped and where the well-connected Dulles family
(John Foster would later serve as President Eisenhower’s secretary
of state and brother Allen would be the first director of the CIA)
had their own pew. I was baptized there and remember it well from
subsequent childhood visits.
USING DUPONT CIRCLE as his focal point, Mr. Srodes follows the
intertwined lives of a fascinating group of history makers. Besides
some of those mentioned above, it includes Herbert Hoover
(remembered now as the “Depression President” but originally hailed
as one of a new breed of progressive technocrats with global
vision), Walter Lippmann (the father of all pundits and a powerful
force in American political thinking—if not action—from Woodrow
Wilson’s presidency all the way through to LBJ’s), Felix
Frankfurter (another intellectual “progressive” who would influence
American government by his writing and appointive rather than
elected positions, ending as a Supreme Court justice), and Sumner
Welles and William C. Bullitt (foreign policy powerhouses who
started as friends and ended as mortal enemies).
While Mr. Srodes correctly designates the Dupont Circle set as
the “progressives who shaped our world,” he draws an important
distinction between what they stood for then and the debased
intellectual currency of today’s self-styled progressives:
[O]ur cast of characters would have been astonished at the
political objectives of those who call themselves Progressives
today. The enlarged role of the national government in determining
social standards, for example, would have discomfited them. For
that matter, many of the labels and descriptive terms in this story
have changed during the more than a hundred years between their
time and ours.…When these young people first began to arrive in
Washington, D.C., to seek their fortunes they…lived in a nation and
world that was vastly different from our world today. Yet they were
aware that everything was changing around them….[T]hese young
crusaders would change their own attitudes on many specific issues.
But what is important to us today is how firmly they stayed
constant to an overarching vision of a strong America that would
guarantee social justice at home, install democracy in other
nations, and, above all, try to foster a world where peace—not
war—was the norm.
The world as it is today, Mr. Srodes writes, “is our inheritance
from these ambitious, flawed pioneers for peace. They are
remarkable people, and it is a remarkable story.” Indeed it is,
although some critics, including this one, would argue that,
sometimes, the flaws did as much damage as the vision did good.
FDR’s vanity, demagogy, and deceitfulness are the dark reverse side
of a leadership style that helped instill confidence in an
economically desperate America and then united us in an
unprecedented war effort. All too often, the same progressives who
were so prescient in spotting the Fascist/Nazi menace served as
cheerleaders for the equally barbarous and evil Soviet system. They
patronized and promoted Communist agents like Alger Hiss, placed
Stalin’s Russia on a level of moral equivalency with the
Western democracies, and often blindly embraced welfare
statism and Keynesian economics with the disastrous long-term
results we witness today. As for the desire to “install
democracy”—especially where it has never before existed—it
continues to drain American blood and treasure in places like
Afghanistan to little apparent purpose.
Mr. Srodes, who serves as an honest narrator rather than a
critic or champion of his colorful subjects, does, however, build
up an extensive dossier on the character of his principal players.
Most of them were either born to high social position or, through
sheer talent and energy (and sometimes opportunistic marriages),
managed to gradually gain acceptance within a tight circle of
mainly appointive wielders of power. While, in most cases, one is
impressed by their energy, commitment, and general good intentions,
one cannot ignore the underlying smug self-satisfaction of a group
that was more interested in imposing its agenda on others than in
bringing others on board. Like the 18th-century philosophes, they
were sure that they, and they alone, knew what was good for the
rest of us; our own thoughts on the matter didn’t count for
much.
A PARTICULARLY GLARING EXAMPLE of enlightenment, arrogance, and
hypocrisy all rolled into one is the sad case, which Mr. Srodes
describes at some length, of Sumner Welles, FDR’s chosen foreign
policy guru (and number two man at the State Department). A
brilliant, arrogant patrician, Welles made real and sometimes
crucial contributions to American foreign policy. But he also
undermined the integrity of it by bypassing his superiors through
backstairs intrigues. His arrogance made him enemies and—coupled
with a sordid private life—led to his eventual fall and disgrace.
It turned out that the enlightened humanitarian was also a serial
sexual predator; among other things, he repeatedly attempted to
force his attentions on black Pullman porters while traveling in
the government service. The homosexual nature of his attentions was
what made them scandalous at the time, but what was truly
contemptible was the fact that a “progressive” white elitist would
take advantage of his powerful position to sexually exploit
racially and economically vulnerable fellow human beings.
On a less sordid but equally hypocritical note, the marriage of
political convenience between Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt is
eerily reminiscent of a more recent presidential couple, Bill and
Hillary: In both cases a cynical, philandering husband and
humiliated but issue-obsessed wife kept up phony appearances so
they could continue to occupy the White House together while
pursuing separate personal agendas.
Some things never change. But, in On Dupont Circle,
James Srodes ably and eloquently tells the story of how old and
abiding visions, vices, virtues, and ambitions once wrote a flawed
but remarkable chapter in American history.
Petronius| 10.25.12 @ 10:47AM
Rome inside the beltway cannot fall soon enough.
KyMouse| 10.25.12 @ 11:39AM
I look forward to reading the book.
During the mid-1980, I lived in Old Town Alexandria but worked on Connecticut Avenue near Dupont Circle. I spent a lot of my lunch breaks walking by embassies, seeing if I could figure out their countries just by looking at their emblems, flags or whatever. (I did pretty well.)
Derek Leaberry| 10.25.12 @ 1:16PM
Ironically, they could now eat at the misspelled top-rated restaurant called Komi's.
Albert Constantine Jr.| 10.25.12 @ 1:51PM
In took me a moment, but when I shortened the "o" I got it.