Showing posts with label Bertram Pickard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bertram Pickard. Show all posts

Wednesday 24 November 2021

The sound of doors being bolted shut

When you are researching an archive, the historical events that form its background can unexpectedly connect with your own family's history and with current events. It stops being remote and become so much more real. Last week the papers were full of this story:

The Nationality and Border Bill would permit the home secretary, Britain’s top domestic security official, to cancel citizenship without warning on national security grounds if it is not “reasonably practicable” to do.

The stripping of citizenship – well, that's familiar! History repeating itself, but in a minor key. It was a problem that the subjects of my researches had grappled with in the late 1930s. Bertram Pickard, in his role as a reporter for a number of newspapers, including the Washington Post, but also as an observer on behalf of the international Quaker community, attended the conference at Evian-les-Bains held between the 6th and 15th of July 1938; a conference called by President Roosevelt precisely because of the stripping of citizenship from so many people in central Europe was causing a refugee crisis. 

The Nuremberg Laws of 1935 had stripped German citizenship away from 'non-Aryans'. The Anschluss and the annexation of Czechoslovakia now extended that to the Jewish, Roma and other 'non-Aryans' of Austria and the freshly dismembered Czechoslovakia. 

Évian was the sound of the world bolting their door tight against any potential influx of refugees. Only previously allowed quotas would be accepted. In many cases, much as a result of the often hysterical reporting of the press, there was pressure to reduce even those. The Daily Mail ran headlines such as:

 German Jews Pouring into the Country

and wrote reports such as:

Never before has it been more difficult for an alien to land unlawfully and remain out of police hands for more than a few hours. The favourite method is to come ashore in a rowing boat with the appearance of having been out for a short sea-trip. Despite coastal watch it is possible for an alien to escape notice in this way, but his inevitable struggle for existence is almost certain to lead him before long into police hands.  Daily Mail, 2nd August, 1938

What! Aliens landing on British shores in small boats! 

Migrant crisis ‘out control’ as Channel crossings treble last year’s total

THE growing number of illegal migrants crossing the channel is now a "national emergency", a senior Tory MP has warned.

By Macer Hall

Clearly history is repeating itself, replete with press outrage and calls for the government to act, as Becky Taylor (Reader in Modern History, University of East Anglia) reminds us in her recent blog post on Refugee History.

Just as now there are those who see refugees not as a threat but as people in distress who need help, so there were in the late 1930s. The subjects of my research were very much involved in such action, and were part of the Quaker effort to provide relief and assistance. Efforts that were co-ordinated from Friends House, London, the central offices of the Quakers in Britain:

Up to 1937 the staff and volunteers in the London office were never more than nine people. The work escalated after the invasion of Austria, so that by the end of 1938 the number of case workers employed had risen to 59. The stream of refugees needing help at Friends House swelled so much that the two great staircases became more or less permanently blocked by queues of people waiting to be attended to. Interviews had to be conducted in corridors when the offices were overflowing. A few months later, in February 1939, the work moved to Bloomsbury House. At this time a staff of 80 case workers moved out of Friends House along with 14,000 case records. The expansion of the work for Jewish refugees from Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia led to the formation of a co-ordinating body known as the Inter-Church Council for German Refugees. Bertha Bracey was the Secretary of this body, whilst still employed by Friends Service Council as Secretary to the Friends Committee on Refugees and Aliens.    Lawrence Darton, Friends Committee on Refugees and Aliens, Appendix IV and pp. 58-9

My own family became involved when my mother received into her home a Jewish couple from Czechoslovakia, having paid the necessary surety money to the UK government to ensure that the couple would not become 'a charge upon the public purse' – the equivalent of about £5,000 in modern values. Technically the couple came as 'domestic servants' – due to the so called 'servant shortage' that was one of the very few categories of immigrant allowed into the UK – quite a claim for a couple who had owned a major store in Prague trading in fur coats – but a necessary fiction.

In the light of subsequent events, it seems the Quakers, and, in this case, my parents, were on the right side of history.

 

Thursday 4 November 2021

Complete, definitive & long, or selective & short?

What to do? What to do? Masses of material: many documents, papers, articles, speeches, letters, booklets, notes, drafts, etc. Add an associated library of 115 Jungian related titles. In all the product of near seventy years. A pile of stuff that Irene Pickard described as her 'compost heap' (Inward Light, No 59, Spring 1960). How best to process and present this trove? How to put over its significance? Was there indeed any coherence in the collection? Was there a narrative that would bring it together? How to relate its creation to its historical context? How to trace the lines of development within? Who were the main actors? What were the consequences of their very evident interest that brought these items together and preserved them? How does exploring and writing about it fit into public discourse? What discourse? Within which communities?

Opening an archive is rather like discovering a cave system. An unguessed at network of chambers and passageways is explored, and slowly the system is charted. Perhaps cave paintings, or remains are discovered, and natural wonders revealed. A catalogue of what is there might be created, and a guide to how to access it written and detailed maps drawn. Maybe a history of its discovery and exploration is recorded. What was unknown becomes shared and public. It becomes accessible and known, and may even be valued and added to tourist itineraries. It becomes part of the public landscape.

There clearly was a central event of importance: the direct contact in the 1930s between a group of Geneva Quakers and the psychologist Carl Jung and his circle, just at a time when Jung was developing his theories about the fundamental importance to psychological health and wellbeing of what might be termed the 'spiritual' aspect of life. 

There are the antecedents to this event. Then there are the consequents. How much of each belongs in an account? Where to start and end the narrative? The choice of length and depth would very much dictate how much of each to include, as would considerations of who the likely audience might be and which discourses it might contribute to.

The question of purpose comes into all of this. What is my purpose in researching and reporting on the archive? The latter is easily answered: lacking a specific career goal, such as submitting a thesis, or building a reputation – I am post-career, retired, somewhat past such concerns – I have written about the archive and its creators because that is the only way I know of coming to understand what it contains. It has been my way of processing the contents and their relationship to the historical context. I have then felt compelled to share what I have discovered because, other than whatever contribution it might make to the historical record and the discourses around that, I think it will interest others who share my overlapping interests: philosophy, psychology, history, theology, peace-studies, ethics, Quakerism and the love of a good story. As I opened up the archive, that latter became obvious. 

The main protagonists had extraordinary lives. True, that was in part because they lived in what the apocryphal Chinese curse calls 'interesting times'; but most pertinently they proceeded through those times in countercultural ways. Their history is a history of exception not of conformity. Pacifists and peace-makers in a time of war and bellicose posturing; quietly and undogmatically religious in a time of avant-garde secularism and iconoclasm; deeply and self-critically questioning in a time of assertive certainties (patriotism, nationalism, imperialism, fascism, communism); open and receptive to new and emerging ideas and pluralities, whilst remaining connected and even embedded in their reluctantly evolving and somewhat traditionalist faith community. 

To top it all there were the elements of a good yarn: romance, thwarted love, danger, adventure, and the quest of a woman to find her place in a fast changing and disorientating world; and of an otherwise obscure man who became a founding member of the United Nations secretariat and who was instrumental in helping to shape the post Second World War order.

If I were chasing reputation or career, then a short, punchy account would do the job; but there would only be opportunity for one bite of this particular cherry. A definitive account would be unlikely ever to be written if a short, punchy account was chosen; however, a definitive account would take time and would be difficult to find a publisher for. What was in the archive deserved better than a hit and grab raid, as did the lives of the protagonists, so in the end its been the long haul: a definitive account.





Saturday 23 October 2021

Am I fullfilling Godwin's law?

 Jung, the Quakers and Hitler – why the Hitler? He certainly was not there when I started. 

It began with my being invited to look at an archive left to an elderly Friend (yes, the capital is intended, she was a Quaker, born and bred, and an active Member – yes that capital too – of the Society of Friends – yep, and those) who was deeply concerned that her mother's archive might be lost or destroyed when she died. That was exactly what had happened to her mother's friend's archive when she died: it was mistakenly sold along with the household furniture. She had been the first Jungian analyst in Washington D.C., a founder of the Friends Conference on Religion and Psychology, and for many years the editor of Inward Light. Among her papers would have been many fascinating letters exchanged between her, the Jungs (yes, both Carl and Emma) and her own analyst for many years – Tina Keller-Jenny. Posterity lost out there: they're gone – the letters and all – no doubt consigned to some rubbish dump or incinerator.

Needless to say, Irene Pickard's surviving daughter was concerned that the same fate should not happen to her mothers archive. She had inherited them from her sister – herself a psychiatrist – who had inherited them from their mother. They had both understood that the archive was worth preserving, that its contents were certainly unique and irreplaceable, and might well be of value to future researchers. Some of it had already been used as a resource for one post-graduate submission for a higher degree, and another academic had written a paper about their father – Bertram Pickard. His papers, and some of his wife's, had been preserved. They had been gifted to the Swarthmore College Peace Collection

And that was where Hitler got in.

It is simply not possible to write about what was in Irene's archive without him. He had dominated their lives for far too many years because Bertram was actively involved in peace work for most of his life, spending a large part of it in the shadow of the rise of Hitler – an experience that almost cost all of his family their lives –and then in the aftermath of the Third Reich, helping to repair the damage. 

I was asked a simple question when I was invited to look at Irene's Jungian archive. Was the archive of value? As it contained heaps of Jungian related material, including correspondence with him, and was a record of how a group of Quakers struggled with and absorbed his ideas, coming in time to disseminate them on both sides of the Atlantic. There was no doubt in my mind it was of value. It contained a remarkable story waiting to be told, especially as it was interwoven with the story of the Pickard's peace work as a background.

I was allowed to have privileged access to the papers before a home was found for them among the Quaker archives at the University of Essex.  

Godwin's law? The longer the discussion, the more likely a Nazi comparison becomes, and with long enough discussions, it is a certainty. So in discussing my researches, it was utterly and completely unavoidable that I would fulfil the law. 

I understand that in some groups this would automatically signal the end of a discussion. Well, that's me stymied then, given what I am writing about.