The 'Death' of the Daily Bruin: Part 2

McCarthyism: A Real Danger

 . . . McCarthyism is the technique of the Big Lie which seeks to effect a state of national paralysis by a mounting stream of fantastic lies revolving around the central lie that our country is endangered by an "internal and external red menace." . . . It was inevitable that McCarthyism would attack American campuses . . .

 McCarthyism has brought out campus regulation 17, the Levering Act [state loyalty oath], rejection of Daily Bruin staff appointments on political grounds, a DB screening board and finally a paid sponsor . . .

 The real danger to our university is not from a mythical "Communist plot" but rather the main danger is that students are becoming "a silent generation" whose guideposts are "keep your mouth shut, your nose clean and your mind sealed." . . . ( DB, 11/30/53.)

Appearance of the opinion piece led the Student Council to call for an "investigation of fact and good taste." (SLC, 12/2/53.) It resulted in a barrage of letters in the Grins and Growls column, all clipped and placed in a file by the Administration. (Chanc, 1953, Folder 246-DB.) It caused complaints to be sent by irate citizens to the House Committee on Un-American Activities (Chanc, 1954, Folder 2-Journalism, 1/7/54.)

Editor Al Greenstein, writing under the heading "The Heavy Cloud," noted gloomily that "A pall of fear . . . has settled over this campus."

 
 It has made hypocrites of faculty members who talk about the need for freedom in academic research but not in student newspapers or student organizations . . .

 It is weighing down people with a sense of futility. It is squeezing students into a little ball where they . . . lose all individuality. It has caused distrust, intimidation and hesitancy among students to speak out.

 It has made it a sin for students to make mistakes. It has made it a greater sin for students to ask for the right to make mistakes, free from any pressure. It is snuffing out the very light which is part of the motto of this University. [Fiat Lux -- "Let There Be Light"] . . .

 One cannot call the situation horrifying; that would make it seem like a spectacular affair. Rather, it's like a heavy weight that is crushing you down into a pygmy. (DB, 12/4/53.)

The political opinion of one student member of the Labor Youth League was quickly transformed into a question of good taste and ethics. Chancellor Allen and Dean Hahn met on Dec. 3 and agreed to present a "code of ethics" to the students "as an administrative directive which could be adopted jointly by the ASUCLA but is enforceable by the University." Student leaders were called into the dean's office the next day to receive the proposed code. (Chanc, 1953, Folder 246-DB, 12/7/53.)

But the code was not yet in final form. Instead, Allen appointed a secret committee to study the situation. After three or four meetings, it was obvious that a philosophical split had developed between the hard-liners (Hahn and Richard Hill, administrative assistant to Chancellor Allen) and the members of the UCLA Public Affairs Office (Chandler Harris, Charles Francis and Andrew Hamilton). All except Dean Hahn had been Bruin staffers themselves in their undergraduate days. Hahn's and Hill's position was that:

In student publications with captive audiences there cannot be complete freedom of individual expression . . . No organ . . . may publish or broadcast material which is deemed generally unacceptable to the citizens of the state. (UC Arch, File 333, 1/1/54.)

Hamilton, Harris and Francis, on the other hand, argued that:

Trying to legislate a perfect Daily Bruin into existence is an almost impossible undertaking . . . There should be some room, within the limitations of space, interest, good taste and existing university regulations, for experimentation -- even for error of judgment. (UC Arch, File 333, 1/11/54.)

As all these maneuverings were taking place, Bruin staffers were innocently going ahead with putting out a daily newspaper. Looking back 17 years later from his vantage point as a television news managing editor at KNXT, Editor Al Greenstein recalled that

I was on the Bruin during the hey-day of Joe McCarthy. I clearly recall watching the Army-McCarthy hearings on TV in the Kerckhoff Hall lounge . . . The atmosphere was often oppressive. I remember that Adlai Stevenson was rejected as a speaker for the Model U.N. because he was considered too controversial. Imagine, a man who had run for President couldn't come freely to UCLA! . . .

Communism was not a big issue within the DB staff. The "purge" had occurred a semester or two before I got there, and most of my staff was young, idealistic, but not heavy on dogma.

Our relations with the Administration were cool, occasionally strained . . . I don't think Hahn or Allen feared my politics because I'm not sure now that I had any . . . (Questionnaire, l970.)

His predecessor, Jack Weber, remembers Greenstein as "a particularly capable fellow and a hard worker. He became editor when he was very young [20], but I'm told he handled the job very well." (Questionnaire.)

Greenstein's successor was one of the most fascinating editors the Bruin's slate system had ever produced. Mary Ellen O'Connor Vogel came to the Bruin as "something of a mystery girl . . . thin, with black hair worn in bangs on her forehead and large bright eyes that gave her a somewhat birdlike appearance," recalled Martin McReynolds, who was co-city editor with her. "She was pretty in a rather delicate way, with a hint of stringy toughness underneath." (Questionnaire.)

Vogel, a divorcee, was 27 when she became editor -- older by far than most of the rest of the Bruin staff -- a kind of a female Chally Chalberg. Like Chalberg, she was a no-nonsense editor, and she rubbed easygoing staffers like McReynolds the wrong way from the beginning. Vogel worked the graveyard shift at an aircraft factory to support herself and four children, whom she kept secret from the staff until one evening when she gave a "Drop Dead" party to introduce them -- the idea being that everyone would drop dead of surprise at what she had to reveal.

Why did she keep the fact of her children's existence a secret? "Because I wanted to become editor of the Bruin," she said.

Recalled McReynolds: "She was good at budgeting time She didn't hang around talking. She didn't hang around at all."

 .[S]he made it clear in conversation that she felt she had missed the boat the first time around by getting married too young and that now she was trying to catch up in a hurry, to get an education (which I think included Law School plans) and to make her own way in the world as a successful woman lawyer or business woman. (Questionnaire.)

Graduate Manager Ackerman called Vogel "my close and wonderful friend," who, after she graduated,

made a business trip to Washington, met a young man named Davis and eventually married him. She gave up her idea of a career in law, but only because her marriage offered her more fulfillment. She is now the mother of six children, a member of two Boards of Trustees at universities in Washington, and a philanthropist of renown, to boot. Emy's colorful and active life is the result of much personal talent and initiative, and her story is representative of the successful careers of many other astute and articulate DB editors. (Ackerman, 1969, p. 138.)

According to McReynolds, Vogel's preparation for the Bruin editorial nomination including organizing a "'slate' of candidates which went beyond anything in my experience . . . all openly pledged to vote for each other and work as a team."

 The thing that was jarring . . . was that the staff election was held on the assumption that no one had made up his mind about voting until hearing each candidate speak his piece, answer questions, and then listening to a lively staff discussion . . . somebody once told me I was very naive to think that the process really worked this way . . . But the fact is that a significant number of staffers, including me, never took part in the dealing . . .

 Anyway, it showed how easily some group could take over the DB if it set out to do so. The funny thing is that the Communists and Pinkos didn't do it, but M.E. Vogel, a favorite with administrators for her "responsible" position, pulled it off. (Questionnaire.)

Whether McReynolds is correct or not, the fact remains that Vogel changed the "tone" of the Bruin during her semester. Dean Hahn congratulated her on her appointment, commenting that "it has been a pleasure to watch your steady objective work as a staff member." (Chanc, Folder 246-DB, 12/18/53.) Her editorial stands were rarely controversial, and she claimed that her "methods of putting out a paper were tacitly approved" by the Student Council. (DB, 5/19/54.)

The staff was divided internally, however, by the Chalberg-like methods of the new editor. And at one point Vogel's decisions were criticized by a student, Jerry Blatt, who submitted an advertisement for an off-campus lecture by the Young People's Socialist League. Though the business manager accepted the copy (and the payment), Vogel killed the ad on the grounds her policy forbade the Bruin to run any advertisements for political parties not on the California State ballot -- the Republican, the Democratic and the Prohibition. (DB, 4/23/ 54.) At that time the Student Council had set no particular policy regarding advertisements by political groups, so complaints were raised by some, including McReynolds and his followers, that Vogel's decision was illegal.