No writer is more closely bound up with our deepest sense of the meaning of the “American” than Thomas Jefferson and it is difficult to imagine America's national purpose without some reference to his words. Yet Jefferson's projection of American identity also assumed and even constituted, of necessity, the un-American and it is in this sense that the un-American provided the necessary contours of what became the “American.” Jefferson's various projects are often seen in tension with one another. But this dialectic between the American and the un-American helps reconcile many of them. Federalists, Jefferson believed, assumed that governing Americans demanded the force and corruption that had long kept Europeans in order, whereas Americans, he believed, had an experience of history that rendered them capable of transcending such political theory and practicing democratic politics. This paper explores this dialectic between the American and the un-American in Jefferson's thought as a problem of national self-definition and argues that Jefferson's overwhelming confidence about American identity rested to a large degree in the shudder produced by his experience of the other. Years before Joseph McCarthy and HUAC, Jefferson's project of defining the nation created the un-American, rendering Americans ever since profoundly, however paradoxically, ambivalent about the prospects for revolutionary republicanism abroad.

The exceptional character of the United States' political culture has been and continues to be hotly contested. In the late nineteenth century, commentators framed radical ideologies as “un-American” and they subsequently entered the political lexicon as alien to American ideals and values. However, far less scholarly attention has been given to alternative definitions of “un-American” activity that emerged in the late nineteenth century. This article examines the charges made by contemporaries against the “un-American” town of Pullman and of George Pullman's patronage of his town and its workers. Through a close reading of Addams's critique of Pullman as “A Modern Lear” as well as other narratives and counternarratives contained within contemporary speeches, pamphlets, and newspaper and journal articles, this essay will demonstrate the flexible nature of the charge of “un-Americanism” in the crisis years of the 1890s. In that decade, the character of the modern nation was still highly contested and although the conservative, anti-union view won the immediate Pullman battle, it did not do so without a fight and it did not ultimately succeed in defining the character of the modern nation.

Using the Congressional record, press articles and the extensive literature on the theme of Americanism published in the early decades of the twentieth century, this article seeks to offer a new approach to the history of the idea of “un-Americanism” in the early years of the twentieth century, particularly in the period between the First World War and the Great Depression. It argues that a key distinction may be drawn between a procedural or “negative” concept of un-Americanism, in which the enemy is defined as the person who refuses to accept the liberal political order and therefore exempts themselves from the privileges of citizenship, and a “positive” definition of un-Americanism based on identity and status politics, in which the un-American is seen as the person who fails to meet the criteria for membership in the mythic community from which the modern nation is assumed to have been founded – usually defined in racial, ethnic and gendered terms; through religious affiliation; or by assertions of culture and character. The history of un-Americanism should therefore be understood principally in terms of the contestations that developed between these two concepts rather than as the evolution of a singular concept and shared understanding of its meaning.

Focussing on the nationalist women's organization Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), this article seeks to make an important contribution to the historiography of un-Americanism by exploring its gendered dimensions as well as its ambiguities in the interwar period. By the early 1920s, the DAR boasted a membership of 140,000. It was during this period that the organization became the vanguard of a post-World War I antiradical movement that sought to protect the United States from the dangers of “un-American” ideologies, chief among them socialism and communism. Given the DAR's visibility and prominence during the interwar period, the organization constitutes a useful case study to analyze notions of un-Americanism between World War I and World War II. A thorough analysis of the Daughters' rhetoric and activities in the 1920s and 1930s reveals three things: (1) the importance of gender in understanding what patriotic women's organizations such as the DAR feared when they warned of “un-Americanism”; (2) the antimodern impulse of nationalist women's efforts to combat un-American activities, which is closely related to its gender dimension; and (3) the ambiguity of the term “un-American,” since it was used by the DAR and its liberal detractors alike to criticize each other.

On 1 June 1965, the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) announced that it would hold hearings into the Ku Klux Klan, fifty years after the organization had appeared before the House Rules Committee. Whereas the 1925 investigation allowed the Klan to continue to claim a “100% Americanism,” HUAC unequivocally declared the Klan of the 1960s to be entirely un-American. This essay seeks to explain that turnaround in the understanding of the Klan and its activities, on the one hand, and the contested ideas of un-Americanism and Americanism on the other. It is only within the context of that struggle over un-Americanism's evolving definition, it is argued, that the official decision of civil rights organizations such as COFO and SCLC – whose members had suffered personally from Klan violence – to oppose the proposed HUAC investigation of the Klan can be understood. Similarly, that ongoing contest explains how it was that, after almost three decades of investigating left-wing organizations that often included those fighting for greater civil rights, HUAC was finally moved to turn its attention to the right. Finally, this essay seeks to determine what it was, precisely, about the Klan in 1965 that was deemed “un-American” rather than simply criminal.

This paper examines the House Committee on Un-American Activities and Propaganda's investigation into un-American activities in the Federal Theatre Project. In particular it examines the performances of committee chairman Martin Dies and his Republican colleague J. Parnell Thomas, who led the interrogation of Federal Theatre witnesses. Relying on so-called “friendly witnesses,” usually disaffected former Federal Theatre employees or former communists, Dies and Thomas devoted three days to the testimony of Hazel Huffman, a WPA mail clerk, who never worked on the FTP, while allowing Hallie Flanagan and Ellen Woodward, the two women who directed the national theatre programme, just a few hours each. While Huffman gushed and flirted, Flanagan and Woodward refused to perform the version of femininity the committee demanded. The reordering of gendered roles that resulted was startling. The Dies Committee took to presenting itself as emasculated, a victim of masculine women and New Deal–communist conspirators, who were stripping not only them, but also America, of manhood. This paper suggests that it is only by analysing the powerful gendered performances of the key characters in this unfolding drama of un-Americana that we can understand how and why un-Americanism gained so strong a foothold in mid-century America.

From the very beginning of the Cold War, fundamentalist Christian organizations in the United States were engaged in a strident polemical campaign against the modern ecumenical movement and its American supporters in the major mainline churches. Consistently, this movement and its Social Gospel supporters were perceived as allies or tools of the Soviet Union, or at the very least as unwitting co-conspirators in world revolutionary projects that posed a direct threat to US national security. In the late 1940s and the early 1950s, the American Council of Christian Churches and other key fundamentalist organizations of the era developed a set of key theological arguments about the perceived un-Americanism of said churches and their clergy. Later in the 1950s, the fundamentalists allied with others on the religious and political right to push for a series of Congressional and FBI investigations into perceived subversion as practised by these churches. While ultimately unsuccessful in terms of their originally stated goals, these prolonged fundamentalist campaigns became a crucial site for disseminating the faith-based conceptions of Americanism and un-Americanism that eventually cohered in the contemporary religious right. This paper will investigate the Cold War fundamentalist discourse on un-Americanism and subversion in an effort to illumine the contours of perceived religious otherness in this exceptionally religious nation.

In response to the House Un-American Activities Committee's attacks on legal defenders of political nonconformists, the six-year-old Emergency Civil Liberties Committee organized a publicity and test-case campaign to highlight the dubious constitutionality of HUAC's methods. Their drive to abolish HUAC helped to transform the defence of the constitutional rights of suspected subversives or “un-Americans” by undermining the governmental structures of the Second Red Scare. The ECLC's activity also prompted a shift in the policy of the nation's largest civil liberties group, the American Civil Liberties Union, in favour of abolition. HUAC's response of a mass propaganda campaign represented the culmination of a period when they sought to crush “un-American” dissent, inadvertently elevating the ECLC to a position of national prominence in the struggle for Cold War civil liberties.

This study explores the ways in which certain groups of white ethnics understood the idea of the un-American between the 1950s and the 1970s. Their definition of the un-American was determined by their perception of true Americanness, which in turn was connected to their anticommunist beliefs. Such an understanding of true Americanness helped these white ethnics build political alliances, particularly with the Republican Party. However, by the mid-1970s, the white anticommunist ethnics found themselves outside of the political mainstream, with anticommunism a heavy ideological burden to carry. The article is based on archival materials from presidential libraries and sources from within the ethnic communities themselves.

In the United States, the steadfast refusal of the Jehovah's Witnesses to perform some of the most basic rituals of citizenship has led champions of Americanism to cast them as unpatriotic and even seditious. The Watch Tower Society, the corporate body of the Witnesses, has responded to these accusations by presenting Witnesses as upstanding citizens, only ever departing from the letter of the law when there is a conflict between secular legal directive and scriptural injunction. This essay argues that the gulf between the popular perception of the Witnesses as poor citizens, particularly during the middle decades of the twentieth century, and the society's own representation of its members as assets to their communities highlights the contested and mutable nature of the label un-American. Furthermore, it argues that there is a paradox in the place of the Jehovah's Witnesses in modern American history: though operating beyond the pale of understood norms of citizenship, they have been fundamental to shaping the First Amendment freedoms enjoyed by all citizens. It seeks to contribute to two largely unwritten histories, namely the place of the Witnesses in American religious history, and the ever-changing yet resolutely politicized concept of the un-American.

The issue of “un-Americanism” was present at the creation of the gay rights movement. Indeed the movement emerged, at least in part, as a response to wide-ranging discriminatory policies and practices that were implemented by the federal government during the Cold War. Faced with claims that they constituted an existential threat to the United States, activists in the early gay rights movement worked hard to affirm their patriotism and appealed frequently to the nation's founding ideals of liberty and equality. At times, they also characterized those who discriminated against them as “un-American.” Fifty years later, debates about “Americanism” and “un-Americanism” have been centre stage in the battle to repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell and to secure gay marriage rights. With conservative politicians, commentators and activists claiming that demands for gay marriage threaten the foundation of American civilization, the gay rights movement and its supporters have responded in kind. The increased willingness of gay rights activists to lay the charge of “un-American” is, at one level, a logical extension of the appeal to Americanism that has long been central to the movement's rhetorical and symbolic approach. But it also reflects both the greater empowerment of today's LGBT community compared with their McCarthy-era predecessors and the divisiveness of contemporary American political culture.

This article will examine the ways in which the people of Northern Ireland and African American troops stationed there during the Second World War reacted to each other. It will also consider the effect of institutional racism in the American military on this relationship, concluding that, for the most part, the population welcomed black soldiers and refused to endorse American racial attitudes or enforce Jim Crow segregation. This piece argues that, bearing in mind the latent racism of the time, the response of the Northern Irish to African Americans was essentially colour-blind, and this was true in both the Protestant and Catholic communities.

On 2–5 June 1984, Ronald Reagan toured Ireland. He was met by widespread protest regarding US policies in Central America, including reproofs from the Irish government, and snubs from the Catholic hierarchy. Yet for Irish diplomats, engaged in a long-term effort to encourage Britain towards a settlement of the civil war in Northern Ireland, the visit was a success. This article argues that these immediate resonances have wider meanings, which complicate our understanding of the Cold War. Both large and small “cold wars” (the US in Central America; the US versus the Soviets; Ireland versus Britain) got mixed up with each other during this visit, contributing to the resolution of all three: the Europeans pushed the US to the negotiating table in Central America; following re-election, Reagan began his rapprochement with Mikhail Gorbachev; in September 1984, the President began nudging his closest ally, Margaret Thatcher, towards a rapprochment with the Irish Republic. The relationship between these overlapping frames underlines the article's claims that “cold wars” are a useful category of international relations, in which small nations can be significant factors. Tensions over Ronald Reagan in Ireland remind us that the global Cold War was always much more complex than superpower rivalries.

This article examines the figure of the Returned Yank in Irish popular culture to explain the contradiction between the Irish preoccupation with the figure of the emigrant who returns and the low number of emigrants who actually do return to their native land. The article argues that the Returned Yank is a lieu de mémoire or site of memory – a concept defined by French historian Pierre Nora as “any significant entity, whether material or non-material in nature, which by dint of human will or the work of time has become a symbolic element of the memorial heritage of any community” and used by scholars of African American and other cultures with particular concerns about memory and history. As a site of memory, the Irish Returned Yank allows the Irish to explore the meaning of massive population loss, the relationship with a diasporic population of overseas Irish, and tensions between urban and rural life. The article also suggests a relationship between Irish national identity and the Returned Yank.

The study of US politics in Europe has always been small-scale. In the UK, it is often tied to contemporary history. In much of continental Europe, it is distanced from political science (which largely eschews area studies) and is instead, intellectually and institutionally, an adjunct to American studies. Whereas many other fields within political science have been compelled to consider the methodological underpinnings of their work, US politics has yet to do this. In contrast, within the US, political science has, since the behaviouralist revolution, been largely structured around quantitative forms of analysis. There is therefore a significant gulf between the study of US politics in Europe and political science in both Europe and the US. Furthermore, American studies is itself under long-term threat in some European countries because, forecasters suggest, the demand for English-language teaching (to which American studies is generally tied) will decline in the long term. As a consequence of these developments, those who study US politics at university level are not being replaced as they retire and there are few new entrants into the profession. The article suggests that US politics should, as a subdiscipline, seek out openings that might bring the subject back towards political science. In particular, it argues that US politics researchers in Europe should look more closely at developments within historical institutionalism, American political development (APD) and comparative politics.