Mason Williams gets right down to business, and portrays
Franklin Roosevelt as a lazy, callow WASP, with zero understanding of life.
According to the author, Roosevelt’s upper-class airs, lack of knowledge or
work experience, combined with his showiness, annoyed everyone in the New York
State Senate. Aside from a six-year tenure in a law firm – where he was mainly
a clerk – he really hadn’t accomplished all that much with his life. Then
Williams makes an unusual suggestion; when Roosevelt contracted Polio, and lost
the use of his legs, the urgency to hide his disability taught him to hoodwink.
He would go from a pampered playboy to master manipulator.
Roosevelt’s partner in crime (at least in this book) was
Fiorello LaGuardia, a man with a short stature, towering Napoleon complex, and
from a boyhood in Arizona, a strong awareness of rampant corruption. His father
died from contaminated army food, yet he still had the opportunity to live in
Europe, learn lots of languages, and put them to good use on his return; Ellis
Island interpreter, lawyer for immigrant cases, labor unions, and respected by
both Jewish and Italian working-class people.
In the earlier non-fiction book Machine Made, were shown how Tammany Hall dominated New York
politics by appealing to the Irish Catholic workers, a situation that was
changing when LaGuardia came along. In Machine Made, it was a combination of
radio – which could reach a greater audience – and the influx of non-Irish that
weakened the Tammany Hall power broker. Where once you had the Tammany Hall
politician walking around handing out coins, you now had the ability to speak
on radio, and people could hear you from miles away. You no longer had to go
through the local politicians. The other advantage, which LaGuardia undoubtedly
learned as an interpreter, was that people appreciate hearing their own
language. If you could speak Italian, you were likely to get Italian voters on
your side. Furthermore, the Irish were no longer the majority, and there were
others who were hungry for change. A similar move would occur in Chicago, with
Anton Cermak, a Slavic immigrant and Roosevelt supporter, appealing to
non-Irish voters.
Williams gives some credit to Robert Moses and the Parks
Department, but a lot of the credit really goes to the inspiration of
confidence. One example is Bryant Park, which was transformed from a bus-parts
dump to a seeded lawn. It showed New Yorkers that ugly industrial spaces could
be made to look beautiful in only a year. The Works Progress Administration,
another confidence-builder, is something we have not seen in years. It had full
transparency in budgeting, and the Federal money was allocated through local
governments. For this to have work, it would require an authority that would be
free of corruption. Even after the Federal Theater program ended, LaGuardia and
Roosevelt persuaded the actors, dancers, and singers to stage a free version of
Carmen. It was spartan, but good quality, and LaGuardia persuaded David
Dubinsky, of the garment workers union, to get the workers to attend. Though
not mentioned in the book, a lot of the corruption-free aspect of the Federal
Theater program had to do with the backgrounds of the people involved; the
actors and artists tended to be from a different mindset than politicians, plus
didn’t expect to get payoffs. Since they were more interested in artistic
integrity than living large, they did not have the motivation to steal.
Mason Williams picks up where Supreme City left off, writing about how New York City could set a
standard not only in buildings, but also in governance. The great public works
that made the city shine were still there and running, but the so-called Roaring Twenties were over, and Mayor
Jimmy Walker had left a bad taste in everyone’s mouths. The people wanted
change, and Roosevelt and LaGuardia were the kind of leaders they wanted.
Despite the Great Depression, things weren’t really depressing; crime didn’t
skyrocket, and there were no riots in the streets (except in Harlem). It was
nowhere near as bad as it was in the 1970’s, where “Ford to City, Drop Dead!”
would become the catchphrase. The politicians of the LaGuardia era knew where
to draw on social welfare and they respected local sovereignty. It was an era
where the local and Federal governments worked together without become
interdependent, and gain the cooperation of both the voters, businesses, and
the unions.
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