First John D. Lee trial waged in the court of public opinion

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In the Winter 2013 “Journal of Mormon History,” there’s an interesting article from Robert H. Briggs, a lawyer and historian from California. “A Seething Cauldron of Controversy: The First Trial of John D. Lee, 1875,” reminds us that lawyer’s spin and arguments designed more to convince the public than the jury box are not recent inventions; such practices were popular 138 years ago in cases argued in locations as obscure as Beaver, Utah.

Lee, an “adopted”child of the Mormon prophet Brigham Young, was the only person on trial for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, which occurred in 1857. The crime was horrific; women, children and families slaughtered by men who had promised the victims safety. Other than the practice of polygamy, it was the main source of national hatred and disgust for the latter 19th century Mormons of Utah.

Yet, as the first trial approached, the prosecution was well aware that a conviction of Lee was going to be impossible to obtain. The majority of the jurors would be Utah Mormons, and they would acquit Lee, who still enjoyed Young’s support and was consequently seen by most Utah Mormons as a symbol of the federal government’s persecution of their faith.

As Briggs relates in his article, “Knowing the power of the federal onslaught that was to descend upon Mormon Utah in the 1880s, it is surprising to consider just how weak, frustrated, and marginalized the Liberals (anti-Mormons) felt in the mid-1870s.” The only success so far for the anti-Mormons had been preventing Utah from becoming a state. In terms of amending the territory’s leadership, state capitol, state constitution, state boundaries, taking away Mormons’ property, and so on, most had been failures. As Briggs relates, some reasons were overzealous crusading officials, including a judge, who were recalled by federal officials, and a split between the Utah Liberals themselves over how to combat polygamy.

With that track record, it was no surprise that so much time had passed before a trial for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, or that the one scapegoat to be tried, Lee, was unlikely to be convicted. As Briggs notes, the one insider prosecution witness was former LDS Bishop Philip Klingensmith, once of Cedar City. While he had insider knowledge of the massacre, he had long been hounded out of the Mormon Church, and was considered a traitor by Utah Mormons.

Instead of winning a conviction being the prosecution’s chief objective, Briggs notes that the architects of the Lee prosecution, William C. Carey, U.S. Attorney in Utah Territory, and his assistant prosecutor, Robert N. Baskin, de-emphasized the usual focus of a trial — “the guilt or innocence of the accused” — for a broader initiative that focused on the actions of militia commands stretching throughout Utah. The initial target, opines Briggs, was George A. Smith, a counselor in the church’s First Presidency as well as an apostle. As Briggs notes, “If they could implicate Smith, it would be but a short step to implicate Brigham Young himself.”

History records that neither Smith nor Young ever paid a legal price for the Mountain Meadows Massacre, but it wasn’t for lack of effort by Carey and Baskin, two fervent “Liberal” anti-Mormons of that period. Both prosecutors were fully aware of the national interest in the Lee trial, and they argued their case with an eye toward the press coverage that accusations would garner. Baskin even had the good fortune to be lodging with Frederic Lockley, editor of the Mormon-hostile Salt Lake Tribune, who covered the trial.

As Briggs writes, “They (Carey and Baskin) foresaw the political capital they would gain if the evidence revealed the horrors of the massacre, even if the jury failed to convict Lee. The proceeding, as they conceived of it, would be a political show trial. The prosecutors’ specific strategy was to make the Lee trial into a referendum on the tyranny and corruption of the Mormon hierarchy and the fanaticism of its deluded followers.”

And the newspapers rewarded the prosecution for its effort. Here are some news articles accounts from the trial: “Mountain Meadows — The Sickening Story Coming Out … Hints as to the Real Criminal,” Decatur (Ill.) Daily Republican; “If those Mormon witnesses keep telling the truth about the Mountain Meadows Massacre, old Brigham Young may have occasion to wish he had died naturally, when he was sick last winter,” Steubenville (Ohio) Daily Herald; The Morning Oregonian, of Portland, Ore., had banner coverage of Klingensmith’s testimony. The trial gained media steam as it continued.

Baskin’s summary argument for the prosecution was a masterpiece of rhetoric. He ignored the shaky evidence that while Lee was certainly at the massacre, it was by no means proven he was the leader, and instead attacked every male member of the Mormon Church as lacking the manhood to stand up and do what was right. Baskin was arguing that Mormon men were not free agents and would do whatever their church leaders told them to do.

As Briggs recounts, “Later Baskin asked rhetorically why none of the militiamen involved in the massacre had prevented or even protested the killings. Answering his own question, Baskin argued that it was because ‘when they became a member of the (Mormon) Church … they laid down their manhood; they laid down their individuality.”

He was right, of course, but how could the eight Mormon men on the jury accept that rebuke? By voting to acquit, of course.

But an acquittal had been neutralized by the prosecution’s successful media strategy. The winner of John D. Lee’s first trial was the prosecution, with its attack on the Mormon hierarchy in which the massacre had occurred.

It can be argued that the first trial not only sealed Lee’s fate, it paved the way for the taming of the Mormon polygamous empire in Utah by the federal government. A year later, Lee was executed. Abandoned by Brigham Young, without the implied protection of Utah’s leaders, he was quickly convicted and condemned. Not long afterward, Brigham Young died. His successor, John Taylor, spent much of his tenure as Mormon prophet hiding from law enforcement. In little more than 15 years, the LDS Church, facing financial ruin, would make its first renunciation of polygamy with The Manifesto, signed by then-prophet Wilford W. Woodruff.

There were of course many other reasons for the Utah Mormon Church’s slow subjection to the federal government during the last half of the 19th century, but Briggs’ interesting account of the first Lee trial provides evidence that a significant media salvo on the Mormon leaders was accomplished in a Beaver courthouse during July and August of 1875. In the court of public opinion, the Mormons were the big losers.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

In 1845, William Smith, Mormon apostles waged war in the LDS press

 

Originally published in 2013 at StandardBlogs

There’s an interesting article in the summer 2013 issue of the “Journal of Mormon History.” Christine Elyse Blythe has contributed a long article on the tenure of William Smith as church patriarch. William is generally considered in LDS history as a kind of “bad boy” of the Smiths, a “legacy apostle” who survived in the church while elder brother Joseph Smith was alive but was eventually kicked out of the church after he died.

There’s a lot of history in the article, “William Smith’s Patriarchal Blessings and Contested Authority in the Post-Martyrdom Church,” but what caught my interest was an intramural newspaper feud over who was best to lead the church a year after Joseph Smith had been murdered. William Smith, despite already shaky relationships with Brigham Young and the Quorum of the 12 Apostles, was named Presiding Patriarch of the LDS Church. It was a lucrative gig for Smith. Besides the high authority of being the church patriarch, William earned a buck per patriarchal blessing, according to Blythe. That doesn’t sound like much, but after 300 blessings over six months, William had earned roughly what a full-time laborer of that era would earn over half a year.

(I digress here to tell readers that receiving a patriarchal blessing is a rite of passage for faithful Latter-day Saints. Those born into an active LDS family usually receive a blessing, from a local patriarch, at the age of 15 or 16. The blessings are considered revelation from God. Indeed, many blessings are described as part of blessings one received in the pre-existence prior to birth. The blessings also provide a relationship to the recipient of their place in the House of Israel.)

In Smith’s time, the presiding patriarch of the LDS Church was considered an elite leader, comparable in rank to an apostle or prophet. Hyrum Smith had preceded William Smith as patriarch. As Blythe recounts, a careful reading of many of William Smith’s patriarchal blessings include words from Smith that assigned him as the LDS leader with the highest authority. As Blythe writes, “… in a blessing given to William A. Beebe, the patriarch concluded: ‘by the highest authority in the church of God I seal thee up to eternal life ...’ This phrase, ‘highest authority in the church’ appeared six times in William’s patriarchal blessings in just over one month.”

Patriarchal blessings, while recorded, are considered personal, and — as Blythe notes — it’s possible the subtle hints in William Smith’s blessings did not get much notice. However, William Smith made his intentions public with an essay in the LDS Church newspaper “Times and Seasons.” In the essay, “Patriarchal,” Blythe notes that William Smith cast himself as “a living martyr,” worthy of continuing in the same high, prophetic place in the post-martyrdom church as his slain brothers, Joseph and Hyrum.

William Smith’s essay was boosted by a testimonial to his claims by W.W. Phelps, an assistant editor at “Times and Seasons.” Phelps, who eventually followed Brigham Young to Utah, wrote that William is “governed by the spirit of the living God.” As Blythe notes, that phrase suggested an autonomy for Smith as patriarch. That was not a trial balloon that the LDS church’s leadership wanted out there.

So, as Blythe notes, Apostle John Taylor penned a rebuttal in the very next issue in the “Times and Seasons.” What Taylor focused on was the debate over whether William Smith was the “patriarch over the church” or “patriarch to the church.” Taylor was direct and to the point in letting church members know the answer. He wrote: “We have been asked, ‘Does not patriarch over the whole church’ place Brother William Smith at the head of the whole church as president? Ans. No. Brother William is not patriarch over the whole church; but patriarch TO the church, and as such he was ordained. The expression ‘over the whole church,’ is a mistake made by W.W. Phelps.”

Taylor, who of course was speaking for Brigham Young and the rest of the Quorum, made it clear what pecking order William Smith had to follow to remain in the Mormon faith. Nevertheless, William Smith remained in the church a while longer. Blythe notes that he gave nine “second blessings” as patriarch, an indicator that the publicity in “Times and Seasons” had boosted his claim.

But it was a matter of time before William Smith and the LDS Church, under Young and the Apostles, would have a divorce. Blythe relates that later in 1845, William Smith trumpeted a claim from Lucy Mack Smith, his mother, that she had had a revelation, with God saying “Thy son William he shall have power over the Churches …” and “… The presidency of the Church belongs to William ...” Soon afterward, Lucy Mack Smith clarified the “revelation,” saying it was just for her family. Around that time, William Smith threatened to leave the Mormons and take all the Smiths with him, adds Blythe. Smith later retracted that threat as well. By August, as Blythe notes, William Smith was complaining that “There seems to be a severe influence working against me and the Smith family in this place.”

Smith left the Mormons, was excommunicated and, like many other Mormon leaders who didn’t go to Utah, hopscotched among different branches of Mormonism. He tried a position with the James J. Strang “Strangites,” and later started his own church for a while, and had an alliance with the Lyman Wight branch in Texas. All that ended and improbably, William Smith was rebaptized as a Mormon in 1860. That failed to last as well. Eventually, Smith became a member of the Reorganized LDS church. Although the uncle tried to persuade his nephew, church leader Joseph Smith III to make him an apostle or presiding patriarch, he was unsuccessful. William Smith died in 1893.

The very short intramural newspaper battle between Smith, a sort of populist threat to the church led by Young and the apostles, and the rebuttal by John Taylor, which more or less ended Smith’s effort to become a Mormon leader, is fascinating to me as a journalist. Try to imagine today’s prominent Latter-day Saints waging a public relations battle — against each other — in “The Mormon Times,” “Church News,” or “The Ensign.”

It would never happen, of course. But it did 168 years ago, and it must have made for eager reading by Latter-day Saints.

Another excellent source for William Smith’s short tenure as LDS church patriarch is the summer 1983 issue of “Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought.”

-- Doug Gibson

Jimmy Stewart’s other Christmas film -- 40 years of Mr. Krueger's Christmas

    Most of the world associates the actor Jimmy Stewart and Christmas with the marvelous Frank Capra film, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  And that is a classic tale, with everyman George Bailey learning, at his most depressed hour, how much a town needs him.

     But there is another Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, “Mr. Krueger’s Christmas,” made by the Mormon Church in 1980. (Watch the film here) It used to be a fixture on TV stations across the nation during the holidays.  It is not an advertisement for the Mormon Church.  Rather, it’s a story of an elderly widower’s optimism and faith that carries him through life, particularly during times such as Christmas, when loneliness can be heightened.

     Stewart, who gives a great performance, plays Willie Krueger, an elderly widower who lives alone with a cat in the basement of an apartment house where he serves as janitor.  We don’t know anything about Mr. Krueger’s past, other than he is a widower and alone this Christmas Eve.  Mr. Krueger is a bit of a Walter Mitty character.  He likes to daydream.  His daydreams are mostly childlike.  He listens to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on an LP and imagines conducting it.  He peers through a glass shop window at a fancy suit and imagines himself wearing it at a fancy function.  I’m sure most of us have similar daydreams.

    Just as Mr. Krueger is settling in for a lonely Christmas night, he hears carolers outside.  Pleasantly surprised, he shouts from the basement for them to join him for a cup of hot chocolate.  The carolers, who appear well off, are leery of Mr. Krueger, not in a mean way as much as a condescending “this is an odd, old guy” way.  Mr. Krueger excitedly prepares for their visit but they merely stand at his door, sing a song and leave.  All except for a little girl, Clarissa, who wanders into the small home and leaves her mittens.  This paves the way for a second encounter between Mr. Krueger and the carolers.

     I won’t give away the ending except to say that before the reunion there is a deeply moving daydream where Mr. Krueger, looking at a baby Jesus nativity piece, imagines he is at the birth of Christ.  He kneels before the baby Jesus and thanks his Savior for always loving him, no matter if he deserved it or not.  He thanks Jesus for being with him when his wife died and for reminding him to be compassionate to a lonely, cantankerous neighbor.

     This is a powerful scene that establishes Christ’s love – and its power to raise our spirits no matter what – as the main theme of Mr. Krueger’s Christmas.  In fact, it makes the final scene with the carolers seem almost an afterthought.  Mr. Krueger, we learn, can maintain his optimism, his childlike charity and love, no matter what life throws at him.

     Again, there is no proselytizing for the Mormon Church in this film.  That broadens its appeal and certainly helped more people see it.  It’s very popular on the Internet Movie Database, with an 8.0 rating out of a 10 high score.

     The 26-minute film has mostly disappeared from television.  Some people say it is hard to find.  In Utah, a quick trip to Seagulls or Deseret Book will find it easily. (That may not be so easy anymore. Deseret Book does not appear to sell the film today. Ebay has a lot of copies for sale.)  In 2005, it was re-released on DVD with a remastered musical score and sent to Ensign magazine subscribers.  My copy of it comes with three other LDS-filmed shorts, including the moving four-minute short, “The Nativity,” that recounts Christ’s birth.

     If you haven’t seen this film in more than a few years, hunt it down.  It’s worth another viewing.  In a press conference when the film was released, Stewart, succinct and to the point, summed up why he did the film:

     “I liked the script.  I liked the message.  I thought it was time we needed something like this.”

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This review from long ago (10-plus years) did not even survive in Google Wayback. Glad we had a copy of the Standard Works page to transcribe and bring back Cal Grondahl's wonderful cartoon. (In the early Standard Works days, the cartoons were black and white.) Happy 40th anniversary for this iconic film. I last recall Mr. Krueger's Christmas being promoted at least 15 years ago. We were handed DVDs at church during a Christmas service. But today, I'm sure a healthy number of people watch the film during December.

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs

Review: Exploring Mormon Thought - God's Plan to Heal Evil

It's difficult to blend the "good news" of the Gospel of Christ with evil. Evil is the opposite of righteousness. Yet it will not discriminate the wicked from the faithful. Evil can cause us to doubt our creator's divinity, his powers and his consistency. Its residual effects can lead to permanent discouragement, bitterness, and apostasy. 

In contrast, others can use their faith to endure evil, and even strengthen their beliefs.

How can we explain evil? Or more so, how can we place evil in a plan of a benevolent God? Blake T. Ostler, author of the Exploring Mormon Thought series for Greg Kofford Books, has written the fourth volume, "God's Plan to Heal Evil," 2020, Salt Lake City. (Here are purchase links to Greg Kofford Books and Amazon.)

Examples of evil include the murder of a young child, senseless deaths due to accidents, and examples of disease causing lives to end prematurely. As a father who helplessly held his infant son as he died -- due to an imperfect heart -- soon after birth, I can understand this as evil. Evil moves from a theory to be discussed to a unique, deeply personal experience, when one suffers from it.

Ostler addresses this question: how powerful can God be if he allows evil? All of us have heard the phrase, "it's God's will." Or we have heard that "God respects natural law," so evil has to occur. These are well-meaning arguments that anyone who has experienced will hear. But are they are inconsistent statements, more platitudes than explanations? 

God's power may only be persuasive, and not definitive. If so, prayer is essential.

But how consistent is God if he allows countless innocents to suffer evil while sparing others the same fate through "miracles?" Some miracles are related in the Scriptures; others by well-meaning but insensitive individuals thanking God for providing a miracle that spared them death or other adversity. The question can develop: why are they favored, and not me or my family? Is that really God's plan?

Ostler's solution to these seeming inconsistencies -- which he does not regard as reasons to doubt God -- is to turn evil into love. As followers of the Gospel who are on a path to becoming like God, we must learn "the kind of love that commands us to love our enemies." We need to repay evil with love, the author asserts. It's part of our life-on-earth contract that we consent to suffer the consequences of evil and work to turn the adversity into love. 

Ostler writes: "... we must elicit love both for and from those who carry out such evils ..." He uses Christ's Sermon on the Mount as an example of this theology. "... Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; ..." 

God wants us to have a fulfilling and challenging life, Ostler writes. We are asked to progress spiritually through life. Turning evil into love is a challenge, but -- as the author notes -- we have divine assistance. Angels are on earth, ready to help us achieve the spiritual strength necessary to heal evil and turn it into a positive spiritual force.

This concept reminds me of C.S. Lewis' book, "The Great Divorce,' in which "The Teacher," guiding the narrator through his tour to the outskirts of heaven, says: "They say of some temporal suffering, 'No future bliss can make up for it,' not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory."

Turning "agony into a glory" captures the theme of Ostler's "God's Plan to Heal Evil." Placing that theme in the context of Mormonism provides an opportunity for that to be accomplished on earth. Learning to love like God loves is part of our learning process toward divinity.

A final note: There is a lot of valuable information in "God's Plan to Heal Evil." I recommend it. But be patient with the writing. It is dense, thick writing, to a fault. I fear that may stifle readers. But persevere through the text; perhaps limit reading to 10, 20 pages a day. And buy a dictionary. It's worth the read.

--- Doug Gibson

Wonder what happened to Marley's Ghost? Read this novella

 

Originally published at StandardBlogs in 2011

Have you ever wondered what happened to Jacob Marley, the tormented, consigned-to-eternal-punishment spirit who successfully warned miser Ebenezer Scrooge of the fate that awaited him if he did not change his evil ways? As someone who has read Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” at least 50 times, so have I. I’m sure others have pondered Marley’s fate as well, I give kudos to Alpine author R. William Bennett for writing, “Jacob T. Marley,” (Shadow Mountain, Salt Lake City, 2011) a very religious, albeit cumbersome, attempt to expand Marley’s “A Christmas Carol” cameo into a novella. As the book blurb mentions, “…Marley” hopes to be another “Wicked”-type sequel.

But homage sequels and prequels to classic works are mostly misses with rare hits. And they’re ubiquitous. There must be 100 homage sequels to Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice,” for example, and I wouldn’t be surprised if writers, before Alpine’s Bennett, have tackled Marley’s surmised life. What kills nearly all homage sequels is that they try to imitate — respectfully — the style of the master who penned the classic. Because the authors can’t write like the masters, the results are subpar.

And that’s the chief problem with “Jacob T. Marley”; too much of the writing is dull, a feeble attempt to copy Dickens. When Bennett goes beyond the Dickens’s story, it’s a little more interesting. He delves into Marley’s upbringing and even genealogy. Marley’s parentage is more admirable than Scrooge’s. He’s not warped by a father who deserts him. Instead, Marley is done in by too much praise as a child, which turns him proud, and eventually cold.

However, Bennett makes a mistake that many film adaptors have made with Ebenezer Scrooge. He makes his primary character more of a sociopathic sadist than a supreme egotist. Bennett’s evil Marley does not have a spark of humanity in him. He takes more pleasure in turning pregnant women out of homes than counting his money. In a twist that stretches credulity, Marley is responsible for Scrooge’s sister, Fan’s death at childbirth, due to his evicting her and her husband.

As Dickens’ creation, Ebenezer Scrooge is an unfeeling man, not an angry man. He chooses to ignore his ability to help others because he’s indifferent; it’s cruelty by omission. Scrooge possesses many talents. He can charm whom he wants to charm, when it comes to business. As Dickens’ writes, “He knew these men, also, perfectly. They were men of aye business: very wealthy, and of great importance. He had made a point always of standing well in their esteem: in a business point of view, that is; strictly in a business point of view.”

We must assume that Marley is like Scrooge. And Bennett writes, “There was a monotony of greed that laced every day, a monotony that both Marley and Scrooge worshipped as their assets grew.” It’s a good line, but lacking in the “bad” “Jacob T. Marley” is any potential for humanity.

Perhaps only a master storyteller such as Dickens could instill the right amount of tiny humanity into the miser Scrooge’s soul to make his reclamation believable. And there is humanity in Scrooge. He cries when he witnesses his past; he regrets; he is moved by Tiny Tim’s fate and the children of Want and Ignorance, But “Jacob T. Marley” lacks that. There is no literary reason to expect any reclamation of Marley’s soul. This makes Bennett’s “deathbed” conversion by Marley simply ludicrous. Worse, Bennett’s Marley’s soul is saved after death and chooses to walk the earth weighted down with cashboxes, etc. He waits for a heavenly opportunity to be seen by Scrooge as a spirit.

This plot twist by Bennett takes away the mystery of why Marley appears. In Dickens’ tale, Marley has no idea why he can be seen; his dreadful moans and regret are his way, powerful to the reader, of reacting to the sight of another human being after years of wandering ignored. Bennett takes the power of that moment away by changing Marley into a sort of heavenly missionary that has finally received his call to preach. It must be stressed that Marley cannot preach to Scrooge, only lament. He has no right, unless re-created inappropriately by Bennett.

Another poor plot twist initiated by Bennett is to have Marley accompany the three spirits on their journeys with Scrooge. Worse, Bennett changes Dickens’ tale by inserting the grim promise that Scrooge will die on Christmas morning if not persuaded to goodness by the spirits. I can understand this plot twist by Bennett. Frankly, there’s not much for Marley to do after he visits Scrooge. But, again it seems to clash with Dickens’ story. In any event, this is the worst of the novella, with Bennett’s Marley whining and being lectured to by spirits as they simultaneously attempt to reclaim Scrooge’s forsaken humanity.

The epilogue is better. Briefly, Bennett summarizes the remaining years of Scrooge’s life and skillfully weaves an earlier plot involving the late Fan’s necklace, coerced by Marley, finding its way back to Scrooge after scores of years.

As mentioned, homages are not your ordinary novels; they are labours of love. I’ve been harsh to Bennett’s homage not because I don’t appreciate the effort, nor because I think I would do better. I just love the classic and think, after reading Bennett’s effort, that it’s best left alone. The best sequels to “A Christmas Carol” that involve Marley, Scrooge, Fred or Tiny Tim are probably found in the imaginations of the readers who experience Dickens’ superb writings.

Having said that, I hope “Jacob T. Marley” sells well every holiday season. It has a good message. I would only urge that it be read with “A Christmas Carol,” and not instead of. As for its literary lifespan, it has the appeal of a Hallmark Channel movie. 

--- Doug Gibson

Smoot smites smut was LDS senator’s mantra in 1930 crusade against ‘Lady Chatterley,” and more

 

One of the interesting footnotes to the long career of Sen. Reed Smoot, the LDS apostle who served in the U.S. Senate from 1903 to 1933, was his successful effort to have the U.S. Treasury continue to ban books that were deemed “obscene.” It was a relentless effort by Smoot, chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, to change an amendment to a tariff bill that had prevented customs officers “to seize ‘any obscene book, pamphlet, paper, {and} writing.” Historian Michael Harold Paulos presented a paper on Smoot’s 1930 effort to smite smut at the 2013 Mormon History Association conference in Layton.

According to Paulos, Smoot was outraged over the anti-censorship amendment, sponsored by Sen. Bronson Cutting, of New Mexico, like Smoot, a Republican. Over the next few months, Smoot would literally exhaust himself to get the book censorship returned, losing weight on an already thin frame, adds Paulos.

As Paulos notes, Smoot was an absolutist on the issue of banning what he observed as obscene books. In his paper, Paulos provides a short history of book banning in the 19th century, including efforts by LDS leader Brigham Young. In a footnote, Paulos recounts advice against reading novels that Young sent to his son. The Mormon leader “compared reading novels as tantamount to using poisonous herbs or berries to salve ‘a poor appetite. … it is a remedy worse than the complaint.’” (It was a rare moment of solidarity between evangelicals and Mormons, as both were opponents of inexpensive novels for the masses.)

It seems that Smoot’s belief that “obscene” novels must be banned was as firm, and likely strongly connected to his belief in the Mormon faith and its scripture, “The Book of Mormon.” In short, Smoot’s desire to ban books can be compared to a testimony, or adherence to a principle from God. He fiercely fought his many critics, relying on that era’s standard for obscenity, the Hicklin test, which “broadly defined obscenity within the context of protecting children, or in so many words, any material whose ‘tendency of the matter is to deprave and corrupt the morals of whose minds are open to such influence and into whose hands a publication of this sort may fall,’” writes Paulos.

Smoot made this emotional statement in support of the book banning: “I would rather keep out a thousand {books} than have one mistake made,” he said. Later, Paulos notes, Smoot said the “rotten” books are “worse than opium,” adding, “I would rather have a child of mine use opium than read these books.”

While these remarks may be surprising today, they were still a majority opinion, at least in the U.S. Congress, in 1930. Change was slowly occurring, though. However, Smoot had allies such as Senator James Thomas Heflin of Alabama, a Democrat, who “admonished the senate to use the Bible as a legislative guide, and added that senators “protect the boys and girls of America from the indecent, obscene, and immoral literature of foreign countries.”

Smoot had other supporters who provided outlandish rhetoric on his behalf. As Paulos writes: “GOP Senator Coleman L. Blease of South Carolina, that the ‘virtue of one little 16-year old girl is worth more to America than every book that has ever come into it from any other country.’ Moreover, Blease found it preferable to ‘see both the democratic form of government and the republican form of government forever destroyed if that should be necessary in order to protect the virtue of the womanhood of America.’” … Whew!

Smoot detested D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” describing it “written by a diseased mind and a soul so black that he would even obscure the darkness of hell. Nobody would write a book like that unless his heart was just as rotten and as black as it possibly could be.” Such hyperbole left Smoot open to derision from many of his colleagues, who pointed out that Smoot’s moralizing would exclude portions of the Bible and some of Shakespeare’s works from importation to the U.S. Other rebukes to Smoot pointed out that his own faith’s chief tome, “The Book of Mormon,” had once been a victim of censorship and scolding. Other detractors noted that under Smoot’s amendment, discourses by Brigham Young should be banned.

In obvious disgust for Smoot’s amendment, Paulos notes that Senator Cutting claimed that “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” was his favorite book. Cutting also expressed surprise that the Mormon faith, as depicted by Smoot, would evolve to oppose freedom of speech. Other opponents, including Time magazine and other media, regularly mocked Smoot. Another argument claimed that Smoot’s book banning was in opposition to Christ’s teachings.

Smoot used his seniority, Senate debating skills and sheer doggedness to survive the attacks on his amendment. However, one concession, made to Senator Hugo Black, a future U.S. Supreme Court justice, would prove fatal in the long-term to Smoot’s efforts to retain the Hicklin test and keep “obscene” novels banned. Smoot agreed to Black’s reasonable request to allow judicial interpretation to dictate whether specific books were banned. That concession likely helped Smoot’s amendment to pass easily despite fervent opposition from Cutter and others. The vote was 54-28 in favor of Smoot’s amendment being inserted in the Smoot-Hawley tariff bill.

On the Senate floor, Smoot emotionally defended his Mormon faith and its people, calling them “the most honest, industrious, and virtuous people if any ‘who ever lived in all the world.‘”  Smoot was “emotionally connected” to Mormonism, in my opinion, to the extent that he placed his religious and political beliefs into the same sphere he placed his religious beliefs. He saw opposition to his moral amendment in the same vein as he saw opposition to his faith. It must have offended him to have detractors in the Senate use Mormonism as a debating tool against him.

The Smoot-Hawley tariff bill passed and proved to be unpopular. As Paulos notes, Smoot’s career ended in 1932, when he was soundly defeated in a re-election attempt. Adding insult to injury, the courts took full advantage of Black’s successful insertion of judicial review into Smoot’s amendment. It wasn’t long before the court’s rejected the Hicklin test, thereby allowing the entrance of books such as James Joyce’s “Ulysses” access into the United States. In 1959, an unedited “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” would finally arrive legally into the U.S.

As Paulos writes, “a new legal framework for defining obscenity (replaced Hicklin), which was ‘that the legal test of obscenity must be a work’s effect upon persons of average sex instincts … rather than children or the particularly susceptible.’”

In other words, the ideals of Senators Smoot, Heflin, Blease and others were stymied. Smoot’s amendment was effectively ended by judicial review. One can picture Smoot, in his last years, lambasting himself for allowing judicial review.

Nevertheless, as Paulos notes, at LDS-owned institutions such as Brigham Young University and Deseret Book, there are still censorship decisions regarding books. “And if Smoot were alive today, he would in all likelihood be pleased with the work they are doing.”

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published in 2013 at StandardBlogs.

Book of Mormon Musical songs may be profane, but that profanity has heart

 

Originally published by StandardBlogs in 2012.

(Note: I never managed to see Book of Mormon Musical. But I still listen to the score often.)

I haven’t seen “The Book of Mormon Musical” but if it gets to Utah I’ll pay the scores of dollars it will cost to see it. I enjoy listening to the DVD. It’s profane but profane with heart. Jon Stewart reflects the positive vibes by noting that the play spoofs a religion, yet also celebrates it.

I’ve listened to the CD dozens of times. As a returned missionary, I’m impressed by how satirists Matt Stone and Trey Parker can channel — even through the obvious farce — the yet-to-mature enthusiasm, scattered spirituality and fear-masquerading-as-confidence that defines most new missionaries.

When I was at the Missionary Training Center, we were taught the slogan “Keep the Gospel Simple Stupid.” We focused on learning the language, memorizing the missionary discussions, and force-feeding our spirituality to a high level. We adapted to a regimen that began at 6:30 a.m. and ended at 10:30 p.m. We learned to work, pray and study with a companion. My culture class — I was sent to The Peru Lima North Mission, including time in the Amazon Jungle — was curiously lightweight. From what I recall, it consisted mainly of a husband and wife dressed in touristy traditional mountain garb and llama sweaters.

In “Book of Mormon Musical,” missionary companions Elder Price and Elder Cunningham are sent to Uganda, where they find themselves all alone amidst warlords, clitoris cutters and people suffering from AIDS. Under these conditions, Elder Price, the strong alpha companion, wilts and leaves. That forces Elder Cunningham, the slow-witted junior companion, to “man up” and teach the natives as best he can. With sheer bluster, he achieves success teaching an “off-the-cuff” ludicrously obscene version of Mormon doctrine that involves Joseph Smith having sex with frogs and Brigham Young’s nose being turned into a clitoris. Meanwhile, Elder Price ends his crisis of faith, decides to just believe and storms back into the warlord’s camp preaching with Old Testament fervor. The play ends with the natives, now missionaries, teaching the bastardized, profane, obscene “Gospel According to Arnold Cunningham.”

The more interesting character is Elder Price, played by Andrew Rannells. In at least two songs, “You and Me, But Mostly Me,” and “I Believe,” he captures aspects of the missionary experience. In the first song, sung with the amiable fool Elder Cunningham, Elder Price is full of the faux confidence that’s packed with equal parts cockiness and fear. With a passive, worshipful lesser companion, he’s ready to achieve missionary greatness.

“It’s something I’ve forseen.
Now that I’m nineteen,
I’ll do something incredible,
That blows God’s freaking mind!”

Throughout the song, Elder Cunningham chirps how pleased he is that he can play second fiddle to Elder Price’s greatness. It’s a sentiment Elder Price is wholeheartedly in agreement with, as he concludes with:

“And there’s no limit to
What we can do
Me and you.
But mostly me!”

After a spurt of arrogant, fear-driven bravado, Elder Price suffers culture shock and dismay at how unenthusiastic most are to his message — a reaction, albeit to a lesser degree, for missionaries. Again, this is farce. In the real world, an inexperienced Elder Price would not be tossed, along with Elder Cunningham, alone as a pair into a dangerous environment. His reaction: He decides to take off to Orlando, where he feels the Lord should have sent him in the first place. After undergoing some heavy-duty guilt — a shared feeling for many active Latter-day Saints who try to live a religion that assigns degrees of salvation based on works — he surrenders to faith, and achieves his best missionary success with a full-throated, skepticism-be-damned testimony of various LDS doctrines, conventional or otherwise. An example from “I Believe”:

“You cannot just believe part way,
You have to believe in it all.
My problem was doubting the Lord’s will
Instead of standing tall.

I can’t allow myself to have any doubt.
It’s time to set my worries free.
Time to show the world what Elder Price is about!
And share the power inside of me…

I believe that God has a plan for all of us.
I believe that plan involves me getting my own planet.
And I believe; that the current President of The Church, Thomas Monson, speaks directly to God.
I am A Mormon,
And, dang it! a Mormon just believes!”

Being a missionary is hard work. It involves something else that was drummed into us at the MTC — the slogan “Capture the Vision”: Elder Price’s transition to successful missionary is to eliminate doubt, for at least two years. His fuel is faith; he thrives on faith. His optimism is the sizzle that sells the faith. He’s captured the vision.

A lot of Mormons have criticized “Book of Mormon Musical”; it’s inaccurate to a fault, it makes fun of LDS beliefs; it spoofs, for very vulgar laughs, doctrines and characters in LDS history that are treated with reverence by faithful members. But, Jon Stewart is right. It’s a simple, stupid, but profound declaration of how faith, and just believing, can bring meaning into many lives.

“It’s so good it makes me $%^%*&^ hate it,” Stewart told Stone and Parker, describing the message as “sweet.”

It is; faith is sweet; to believe with enough faith to touch lives is a good thing. To gain courage to change lives for the better is sweet. And that’s why “Book of Mormon Musical,” proudly R-rated, is worth listening to.

-- Doug Gibson