FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT, 1941 STATE OF THE UNION ADDRESS
("THE FOUR FREEDOMS") (6 January 1941)
James J. Kimble
Seton Hall University
The popular conception of World War
II in U.S.
collective memory is that it was a righteous and morally justified struggle against
the forces of evil. We remember it as "the
good war," or as "the best war ever," a conflict that was fought
by "the greatest generation" in such memorable, swashbuckling scenes
as Midway, D-Day, and Iwo Jima. These
battles were so compelling that they continue to be fought by dauntless
American GIs and marines on the History Channel, on movie screens, and in
best-selling novels--each re-telling serving, in part, to reinforce for later
generations the moral righteousness of the war effort.
Key to this conception of the war
is that the nation's rugged heroism in the face of evil emerged rather unwillingly. After all, the United
States had passed three
neutrality acts since 1935, and before the war there were powerful voices
arguing for an isolationist American stance.
In retrospect, then, we like to think of the United States as a "sleeping
giant," or a "reluctant belligerent." The
nation, we seem to recall, was slow to anger but fearsome when goaded into a
fight. If not for the treacherous attack
at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, this line of thinking concludes, America
might have managed to stay out of the war altogether.
Yet there are those who suggest
participation in the war was inevitable.
Some historians, for example, argue that President Franklin D. Roosevelt
was determined to enter the war, one way or another. Some
of Roosevelt's contemporaries would probably have agreed with this sentiment;
many months before Pearl Harbor, a number of Americans were already accusing
Roosevelt of trying to push the United
States into the war. As Senator Burton K. Wheeler said, for
instance, "I will not cease warning the American people that the foreign
policy of this Administration is taking the United States into a war that is
Roosevelt, of course, never
directly stated that he intended to bring the United States into the ongoing war in Europe
and the Pacific (that is, until the Japanese attack, when the situation became
quite different). However, in the
president's many statements on the war in the months before Pearl Harbor, one can readily find some which strongly suggested that
American participation in the conflict was at least being seriously considered.
Consider, for example, his fireside chat on December 29, 1940. In this speech he derided the possibility of
negotiating a peaceful settlement with the Axis powers, asking: "Is it a
negotiated peace if a gang of outlaws surrounds your community and on threat of
extermination makes you pay tribute to save your own skins?" Or
consider his Navy Day radio address, on October
27, 1941. Here the president said that the United
"wished to avoid shooting. But the shooting has started . . . . In the long run, however, all that will
matter is who fired the last shot."
The Navy, he continued, now had orders to "shoot on sight." He concluded that Americans "have
cleared our decks and taken our battle stations."
Well before Pearl Harbor, then, there were indications that Roosevelt's
rhetoric had taken a contentious turn.
Nowhere is this contentious turn in
Roosevelt's pre-war rhetoric more visible than
in his State of the Union address, given on January
Delivered before Congress as well as to a nationwide radio audience,
this speech offered millions of listeners a comprehensive glimpse into the upcoming
war with the Axis powers. Looking back,
we now know the shape and outcome of that war.
For this reason, it would be easy to examine Roosevelt's
address and anachronistically see what his listeners--not yet knowing what lay
in their future--could not see. Yet because
many of Roosevelt's contemporaries were worried that his aim was to drag the
into the conflict, it is useful to consider how they (as well as FDR's
supporters) might have viewed the speech and its underlying messages.
The aim of this essay is to explore
Roosevelt's State of the Union address with
such audiences in mind. The essay
concludes that the president's speech to Congress and to the nation was an
attempt to balance the conflicting desires of a number of interested
factions. While the speech could not go
so far as to declare war, it nonetheless needed to express a level of American
determination to face any conflict on the horizon. FDR's address thereby constructed a narrative
of a nation at war, a story encapsulated in Philip Wander's phrase, "the
rhetoric of prophetic dualism."
Roosevelt's narrative, I will argue, depicted three characters: an enemy with
evil intent; a victim in need of rescue; and the United
States as a moral actor
about to engage in battle. Most
important, however, the narrative crafted a memorable battle standard of
rhetorical principles for which the fight would be fought: the famous Four Freedoms. This principled battle standard elevated the
speech philosophically beyond the usual rhetoric of war. Ultimately, while many of
critics focused on his war narrative, it is the speech's lofty principles that
have stood the test of time.
In developing this argument, the
essay covers four important areas. First, it examines the speaker, Roosevelt
himself. Then it sketches the context of
the speech, offering a glimpse into the various worldviews of the president's
time-bound audiences some eleven months before Pearl Harbor. Third, I analyze
the speech itself, showing how it developed a narrative of war framed by
universal principles. The essay then
concludes by looking at some of the legacies of
1941 State of the Union address.
Roosevelt the Rhetor
President Franklin D. Roosevelt was
no stranger to politics. When he was an
undergraduate at Harvard
University, his distant
cousin, Theodore, became the first President Roosevelt. The elder Roosevelt's dynamic and
enthusiastic demeanor greatly influenced the younger Roosevelt,
encouraging him to enter politics as well.
Before the age of thirty, FDR won a seat in the New York State
Senate. Then, after a successful stint
as Assistant Secretary of the Navy under President Woodrow Wilson, Roosevelt was nominated by the Democratic Party for the
office of U.S. Vice President in 1920. Following
a bout with polio that paralyzed his legs, Roosevelt was elected Governor of
New York in 1928; four years later, in 1932, he had gained enough recognition
that he was elected President of the United States, an office that he ultimately
would win four times.
This remarkable political career
was based, at least in part, on Roosevelt's rhetorical
talents. Roosevelt was a debater at Groton
preparatory school in Massachusetts. His Groton
education also included numerous recitations of classical literature. At Harvard, the future president continued to
debate and to participate in oral readings even as he studied public
speaking. In addition, he became editor
of the student newspaper, the Crimson. Before Roosevelt
began his political career, then, he had gained a number of leadership,
oratorical, and writing skills. As
presidential scholar Halford Ryan suggests, "by the time that FDR
graduated from Harvard, he had a firm grounding in the skills that would serve
him well in his political life."
Those rhetorical skills undoubtedly
played an important role in Roosevelt's political
successes. Earnest Brandenburg points out that FDR's "eminence
is commonly recognized as stemming in large part from his speaking ability."
Thus, it should be no surprise that scholars of rhetoric almost universally
recognize Roosevelt as an excellent
speaker. Ryan, for example, argues that "Franklin
Roosevelt was the most successful presidential persuader in the twentieth
century." Ryan also declares FDR "the
most eloquent" president of that era.
Elvin T. Lim concludes that more recent American leaders have had to "live
in the shadow" of FDR's "oratorical genius," with many
considering his addresses to be "the gold standard for American political
rhetorical skills were on prominent display in a number of venues during his presidency. In his numerous press conferences, for
example, he was at once eloquent and persuasive. Graham J. White describes the president's "ability
to explain the broad outlines of administration policy in language which the
reporters could understand." White
also comments on FDR's pleasing tendency "to use homely metaphors and
salient examples." "The
president's performance" at press conferences, concludes White, "was
superb, his technique incomparable, and his virtuosity of a kind that . . . the
correspondents could neither fail to benefit from nor cease to admire."
eloquence was probably most evident in his prepared speeches. Consider, for instance, his first inaugural
address in 1933. This speech, delivered
in the depths of the Great Depression, was among FDR's greatest rhetorical
achievements. A severe banking crisis
had reached a crescendo as President Herbert Hoover left the presidency,
leaving many citizens fearful for their economic and physical well-being. FDR faced the dire situation with strong yet
inspiring words. He reassured the
public, suggesting that they could face the crisis with courage instead of
anxiety. As he said--in perhaps the most
memorable phrase of his remarkable career--"the only thing we have to fear
is fear itself." The
address was, in retrospect, tremendously effective at calming the public and at
establishing Roosevelt as a competent national
leader. As Suzanne M. Daughton suggests,
the speech "functioned rhetorically to achieve both the explicit purpose
of allaying fear and the implicit purpose of creating public support for the
new president and his policies."
Another example of Roosevelt's eloquence was his famous War Address,
delivered to Congress and the public on December
In the wake of the devastating Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the president faced another kind of public fear, this one
based in the uncertainty and anxiety of a world at war. In fact, the speech as it opened was quite
somber. However, after recognizing the "day
of infamy" and enumerating a number of Japanese offensives in the Pacific,
Roosevelt quickly turned to an inspirational
approach, telling listeners that "[n]o matter how long it may take us to
overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous
might will win through to absolute victory." He concluded the address with the stirring
suggestion that "[w]ith confidence in our armed forces, with the
unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph--so
help us God." Like
his very first presidential speech nearly nine years earlier, then, FDR's War
Address was both eloquent and reassuring.
Some eleven months before his
famous war address, Roosevelt was already
speaking about war in his State of the Union address. This time, however, he faced an even greater
rhetorical challenge. Since the United States
was not yet directly involved in the war--and because there were powerful
voices calling for the nation to remain isolationist--his rhetorical task called
for a more indirect approach, one that would not overly alarm isolationists
even as it spoke to those who were calling for direct American involvement in
the European war. As the next section
suggests, this context made for a very challenging situation for the president,
a situation that would severely test his considerable rhetorical skills.
The Context of the State of the Union
The conflict that is now known as "World
War II" was underway as early as 1937 in the Pacific and 1939 in Europe. The Roosevelt administration did not see the war as a worldwide
crisis, however, until the summer of 1940. It was then that the German blitzkrieg
overtook Norway, Denmark, Holland,
Belgium, and France. The quick Nazi victories gave Hitler a much
greater ability to wreak havoc in the Atlantic; they also gave him an excellent
staging area from which to attack Britain. Germany
thus proceeded to bomb the British homeland, leaving London
under constant siege in the so-called "blitz" and the new Prime
Minister, Winston Churchill, repeatedly asking Roosevelt for U.S. assistance.
The Roosevelt administration's
initial response to the 1940 crisis in Europe
was somewhat tepid. In a June 10th
address at the University
of Virginia, the
president offered what seemed at first to be a decisive commitment against
fascist aggression. Arguing that the aggressive
actions of Germany and Italy constituted a danger to American security,
FDR proposed offering significant military aid to both France and Britain.
He later backed away from this idea, though, finally agreeing some two months
later (after France had fallen to the German and Italian invasions) to supply a
number of destroyers to Britain in exchange for the right to build American
military bases on several British-owned islands.
reelection later that fall allowed him to act a bit more boldly. Despite the destroyers-for-bases deal,
Churchill had continued to plead for more supplies for use against the Axis
powers. The president concluded that he would
need to persuade Congress and the American public that lending or leasing
military supplies to Britain
was the best approach. In
effect, he wanted to offer munitions to London
with the understanding that repayment could take place after the ongoing
hostilities. On December 17, 1940, the president told reporters in a press conference that
what he had in mind was the equivalent of offering a hose to a neighbor whose
house was on fire. Rather than quibbling
over the cost of the hose, FDR suggested, the priority in such a situation
would be to "help him to put out his fire." The hose, he continued, could be returned "after
the fire is over." Clearly,
as 1940 drew to a close, the Roosevelt
administration was finding itself more and more involved in the war, even if the
involvement was second-hand.
This involvement in the ongoing war
would become more formal in the State of the Union address, due to be delivered
a few weeks later. One of the White
House's primary goals in constructing the speech for this occasion, in fact,
appears to have been to build support for an official lend-lease bill in
had already broached the idea of lend-lease in his Fireside Chat on the
"Arsenal of Democracy," on December 29. But in the new year the legislative process
that would approve the lend-lease program was already well underway. Even as the president and his advisors worked
on drafts of the speech, Secretary of the Treasury Henry F. Morgenthau, Jr. was
laboring on what Roosevelt dubbed the "aid
to democracies" bill, soon to become House Bill 1776. Scheduled
to be introduced in Congress just four days after the address, the bill would
propose making the president's lend-lease idea legal under American law. The 1941 State of the Union address, then,
Roosevelt's primary opportunity to promote
the lend-lease idea before lawmakers.
The various, conflicting camps involved
in the debate over U.S.
war policy complicated the rhetorical situation tremendously. Consider, for example, those who were vehemently
opposed to American involvement in the war.
The America First Committee, which emerged in September, 1940, was just
one of many groups that actively pressured the administration to continue its policy
of strict neutrality in the war. Well-known
isolationists included the popular aviator Charles A. Lindbergh, Robert
McCormick, publisher of the Chicago
Tribune, Alice Roosevelt Longworth,
the daughter of Theodore Roosevelt, and many powerful members of Congress. Marshalling a committed group numbering, by
some accounts, over 800,000 citizens, the isolationists were a formidable political
force. Responding to such isolationists was, for FDR, "a frustrating task
that sent the president on a wide-ranging search for effective means" of
dealing with them.
At the same time, a number of
people were openly advocating intervention in defense of Britain. In early 1940, William Allen White--a
well-known Kansas newspaper publisher--had
helped to organize the Committee to Defend America by Aiding the Allies. This organization's goal, as its name
suggested, was to lobby on behalf of military aid for the beleaguered countries
facing German and Italian forces. Before
long, the group had established some six hundred chapters, involving between
6,000 and 20,000 vocal members. These interventionists,
according to Lise Namikas, "believed the United
States possessed sufficient
power and influence to guarantee a free world order." Significantly, at least from Roosevelt's perspective, they "did not hesitate to
advocate the use of force against Hitler."
was well aware that each of these groups would be scrutinizing his upcoming State
of the Union address and his proposal to formalize the lend-lease approach. He was also aware that his audience for the
important address would include "foreigners" from both sides of the
ongoing war, even if their examination of the speech would take place from
distant capitals. And, of course, FDR
also had to be concerned with his immediate audience: the members of Congress
who would vote on his proposal. As one
might imagine, these lawmakers were as divided on American involvement in the
war as were their constituents. Thus, as
FDR and his advisors prepared for the speech, they knew that they would need to
address a number of disparate audiences.
The State of the Union address was
therefore one of most challenging speeches of Roosevelt's
presidency. Numerous audiences would be
listening, their divergent interests pulling the president in several
directions. Given these divergent
interests, could FDR successfully warn the Axis, bolster the Allies, and--for
those audience members in the public and in the Congress--inspire
interventionists even as he avoided alarming isolationists? There is no doubt that the address was
successful in some of these respects. However,
to the extent that the speech did raise significant concerns about the
possibility of American involvement in the European war, it may well have been
less successful than many in the administration had hoped.
Analyzing the Four Freedoms Speech as a
President Roosevelt's 1941 State of
the Union address was, at least formally, an attempt to build support for a new
national policy. The speech's positive
references to the lend-lease proposal that the administration would soon send
to Congress strongly supports this perspective.
Yet the president's various listeners might well have heard a number of
additional messages in the address. The
aim of this section is to suggest that one of the most important of those
messages was a de facto narrative of
American involvement in the ongoing war.
What does it mean to suggest that Roosevelt's speech constructed a war narrative? To understand this idea, one must go back in
time to the nation's first cohesive
community, the Puritans. John Winthrop,
a preacher whose New World-bound sermon to a group of seventeenth-century
Puritans "echoes throughout the history of American life," is perhaps
the primal figure for that community.
In his 1630 sermon, Winthrop
argued that the new nation was to be a blessed agent of the Christian God. He suggested that
shall finde that the God of Israell is among vs, when tenn of vs shall be able
to resist a thousand of our enemies, when hee shall make vs a prayse and glory,
that men shall say of succeeding plantacions: the lord make it like that of New
England: for wee must Consider that wee shall be as a City vpon a Hill, the eies
of all people are vpon vs.
As this excerpt so eloquently
sermon constructed a rich narrative of the Puritan community. Indeed, his story cast the Puritans as
protagonists with at least two important qualities: they were moral, and they would inevitably succeed over any enemies.
time, these qualities appear to have intertwined with the emerging nation's
understanding of itself and its role in the world. In the American Revolution, for example,
traces of Winthrop's narrative emerged to
describe the conflict with Britain. Specifically, the story that was told about
the ongoing revolutionary conflict was a dramatic narrative that featured three
characters: a hero, an enemy, and a victim.
The hero, of course, was the new nation, one that was acting in a
morally just way and that, therefore, deserved to win its struggle. The enemy became a demonized form of the
British, one frequently depicted as an immoral rapist with insatiable
lusts. The victim-- or victims--became
the individual colonists themselves, a
population constructed as having been unjustly attacked by the demonized
enemy. Susan Jeffords points to the
importance of the character roles in this revolutionary narrative, suggesting
that in its "generating moment"
was creating for itself "the role of protector in configuring a national
In other words, just as the nation was beginning to create its self-image, it
cast itself in the role of a savior of the individual colonists--a hero who was
battling an enemy to revenge the symbolic rape of a victim.
scholar Philip Wander argues that over the years several important aspects of
this grand narrative have become part of the nation's identity. Calling this rhetorical tradition "prophetic
dualism," Wander believes that the United States often sees itself as "the
manifestation of Truth, Justice, and Freedom placed on this earth by a God
whose purpose it is to make of it an instrument for extending His . . . blessings
to the rest of humanity." The
narrative of prophetic dualism, as a consequence, typically orders and presents
a thoroughly American perspective on the world.
It has characters (e.g., America
as a character of Good), actions (e.g., "walk softly and carry a big stick"),
and settings (e.g., Pearl Harbor). Most importantly, it is a rhetorical resource
available for repeated use by American leaders.
In times of crisis, U.S.
presidents have frequently invoked elements of the narrative, invariably
returning to the idea that the United
States is a morally upright hero whose
mission includes the defense of vulnerable victims against decivilized
Although the United
States was not (yet) at war in January,
1941, Roosevelt's State of the Union address
implicitly invoked important aspects of the rhetoric of prophetic dualism. The following analysis demonstrates how this
compelling narrative developed in the address.
The analysis highlights four emphases in the president's words: the Axis
powers as an immoral enemy; Democracy as a symbolic victim; the
as a moral agent; and the principles underlying the four freedoms as the battle
standard under which the envisioned struggle could be fought.
Constructing the Axis Powers as an
As its name
implies, the presidential "state of the union" address is traditionally an
annual platform from which the nation's chief executives can formally
communicate their perspectives on the status and health of the nation to the
other branches of government as well to the general public. Yet since
the United States is
commonly perceived by Americans as an important player on the world stage, these
addresses routinely include commentary on foreign policy and the status of
Thus, it was not unexpected for Roosevelt's 1941 speech to address not only the American
status quo, but the ongoing war. Much less typical, however, were the speech's
impassioned references to the Axis powers, which made for an unusually
Roosevelt set the truculent tone for
his address right away. The nation's international position, he claimed, was
"unprecedented" because "at no previous time has American security been as
seriously threatened from without as it is today" (2). What was
this unprecedented threat? The president shrewdly delayed a clear
response to this question, effectively building suspense for his various
Historical references in the speech's early passages offered only hints
of the enemy's villainy. Past American antagonists, he said, never
aimed "at domination of the whole world" (7). Previous wars, he claimed, never constituted
"a real threat against our future or against the future of any other American
Even the (first) World War, he contended, "seemed to contain only small
threat of danger to our own American future" (10). The president's
point was clear: at no other time in its history had the United States faced such a grave
Although FDR's audiences surely guessed where he was going with this
indirect rhetoric, the imminent national danger he described remained
Thus, by the
time Roosevelt reached the twelvth paragraph of the address (some five minutes
into the thirty-six minute speech), he had constructed an increasingly
suspenseful danger, one that was vague but undeniably threatening as well as
tension-filled suspense would naturally have produced a number of questions
among the president's various audiences. For example, who exactly was this enemy? What was its nature
Why was it so threatening? After nearly six minutes of speaking, FDR
finally drew back the curtain to describe the enemy in all of its villainy.
The enemy, he
claimed, was "the new order of tyranny" in the world "that seeks to spread over
every continent today" (11). This new order, he continued, aimed to
dominate "all the population and all the resources of Europe, and Asia, and
Africa and Australasia"
suggested that this enemy was both clever and immoral, frequently operating "by
treachery and surprise built up over a series of years" (24). Using "secret
agents and their dupes," (25) he concluded, these "dictator nations" (22) aimed
to create a frightening new world, an abomination which, he noted later, they
sought to create "with the crash of a bomb" (87). Through such striking clarity, then, FDR
revealed that the perfidious enemy was none other than the Axis dictators and
threatening, perhaps, was the idea that the Axis powers ultimately sought to
attack the United
States. Roosevelt pointed out that "the tempo of modern warfare
could bring into our very midst the physical attack which we must eventually
expect if the dictator nations win this war" (22). The first stage of
that attack--the deployment of unseen spies--had already occurred, he claimed,
since "great numbers of them are already here" (25). The enemy's
eventual military attack would not be in response to an "act of war on our part"
all, the Axis nations "did not wait for Norway or Belgium or the Netherlands to commit an act of war"
argued the president, "[a]s long as the aggressor nations maintain the
offensive, they--not we--will choose the time and the place and the method of
their attack" (26).
In this way, the president constructed the enemy so that it was not only
inherently evil, but seemingly bent on striking at those listening to the
president's speech, whatever their allegiance or political position.
then, a central emphasis of Roosevelt's address involved the identification and
vilification of the Axis powers as enemies of the United
States. In the speech, the
enemy first emerged as a vague threat, then became uncomfortably, even
Consistent with the rhetoric of prophetic dualism, the enemy eventually
emerged as immoral and hungry for conflict. Moreover, the enemy seemed ready to use any
unfair means to conquer its victims. Not surprisingly, it was the nature of these
victims--real and potential--that became a second important emphasis in
Roosevelt's State of the
Constructing Democracy as a Victim
American tradition of prophetic dualism, the villain typically emerges as an
aggressive attacker, one whose victims are in serious danger. But who or what was
the victim in need of rescue here? The most visible victim of the Axis powers in
appeared to be the democratic process. The dictator nations were not just
endangering nations and cultures and people; they were willfully endangering the
concept and practice of Democracy itself. The president's depiction of this victim took
place on at least two levels.
On one level,
FDR's address showed how democracy was already under attack by the enemy
suppose that every realist knows," he commented, "that the democratic way of
life is at this moment being directly assailed in every part of the world"
sixteen long months," he continued, "this assault has blotted out the whole
pattern of democratic life in an appalling number of independent nations, great
and small" (13).
With more and more democratic nations succumbing to the control of these
aggressive dictators, then, there was little doubt that democracy across the
world faced a "great emergency" (30).
level, the president's speech suggested that the danger to democracy would only
get worse if the Axis powers were allowed to continue their rampage. Consider "what the
downfall of democratic nations" would "mean to our own democracy," he intoned
Evidently, crushing democracy in Europe was not enough for this insatiable enemy, since it
now sought "to destroy unity and promote discord in nations that are still at
Thus, because "the assailants are still on the march," (13) he argued,
"the Nation's life is in danger" (59). Truly, as FDR concluded, "the future and the
safety of our country and of our democracy" (14) are in greater peril than ever
before. In the
speech's vision of the world, at least, the enemy nations had found in democracy
a target of opportunity in the present as well as in the future.
Interestingly, Roosevelt's speech largely overlooked the suffering of the
Axis powers' human victims. The president was, of course, well aware that
the enemy's victims already included millions of people, many of them now dead
at the hands of the dictators and their armies. Yet he evidently felt that the more urgent
and compelling victim of the war emergency was the democratic way of life. Roosevelt's address therefore
constructed democracy as a victim which was facing an ongoing attack from a
vicious and immoral enemy. Even worse, the speech suggested that the
attacks would continue, ultimately leading to an attack on the modern cradle of
democratic thought: the American homeland. Yet Roosevelt's speech also created a
narrative role for the
, casting the nation as a sort of
storybook hero who was ready to come to the rescue of democracy around the
Constructing the United States as a Moral Agent
villain and the victim in their narrative places, the war story in Roosevelt's State of the Union
address logically led to an inspirational description of the tale's hero. The way in which
Roosevelt discussed the status of the United
States in the address was in fact quite
consistent with the rhetoric of prophetic dualism. Indeed, the hero in
this version of the narrative was one that John Winthrop, the Puritan preacher,
would likely have recognized. Two of the hero's qualities, in particular,
stood out: its inherently moral nature; and the seeming inevitability of its
victory over the immoral enemy.
FDR's speech valorized the United
States and its moral status. At times, this
heroic morality appeared as a simple and stark contrast to the enemy. Early in
the speech, for example, Roosevelt said that "[t]he American people have
unalterably set their faces against . . . [the] tyranny" of the dictator nations
(11). At the
end of the speech, the president re-emphasized this direct contrast when he
declared that "we oppose" the Axis nations' "so-called new order of tyranny"
with a "greater conception"--what he called "the moral order" of America and its
way of life (88, 87).
In these two contrasts, America's superior morality was
assumed because it was the direct opposite of the immoral pursuits of the
was also careful to describe specifically the moral and heroic nature of the
United States and its role in the
domestic affairs, for instance, he argued that "our national policy . . . has
been based upon a decent respect for the rights and the dignity of all of our
fellow men within our gates" (31). This admirable internal policy, he claimed,
emerged in American foreign relations as well, since "our national policy in
foreign affairs has similarly been based on a decent respect for the rights and
the dignity of all nations, large and small" (31). Such lofty
"principles of morality," he concluded, "will never permit us to acquiesce in a
peace dictated by aggressors and sponsored by appeasers" (35). In such words, FDR
constructed America as
possessing an inherently just and moral nature; this nature was so positive that
the nation could not stand idly by and watch international villainy succeed.
heroic quality of the United
States emerged from the first: given the moral superiority
of America's cause,
victory over the immoral enemy was essentially guaranteed. As a nation, FDR
said, "we express our determination that the democratic cause shall prevail"
"stamina and courage" necessary for this victory, he suggested, would "come from
unshakable belief in the manner of life" that "[t]hose who man our defenses, and
those . . . who build our defenses" will be protecting (63). The American people,
he continued, "have renewed their faith and strengthened their devotion to the
institutions we make ready to protect," so much so that they are "conscious of
their individual stake in the preservation of democratic life in America" (64). In the end, "[a]
good society" like America was "able
to face schemes of world domination and foreign revolutions alike without fear"
question, he concluded, "the justice of morality must and will win in the end"
Roosevelt painted a
rhetorical picture of a righteous nation, unafraid of conflict and certain of
In this way,
then, the State of the Union address worked to construct a heroic nation that
could intervene in international affairs to save the victim (democracy) from the
immoral villain (the Axis powers). As a heroic actor, the United States emerged from the speech
as both inherently moral and as destined to win the struggle with the
this narrative description of world affairs--especially given its traditional
roots in American discourse-- would have been compelling for many in
However, as the next section shows, the president offered a final,
transcendent touch to the tale, identifying philosophical principles to be
defended in the coming battle.
Constructing a Rhetorical Battle Standard: The Four Freedoms
Roosevelt's speech described the United
States as an inherently moral actor in world
indicated that the nation should act to save a vitally important victim already
under attack: the democratic way of life. And it argued that the rescue of that
victim would take place through a deadly--though ultimately victorious--struggle
against an evil villain. Given these admirable qualities and actions,
the speech was clearly consistent in implying that America's purposes were worthy. The president
enhanced this argument, however, by constructing a rhetorical battle standard
for the impending struggle. That battle standard, as it turned out, was the most
visible and famous part of the address: the Four Freedoms.
Roosevelt began the climactic segment
of his address by stressing what he saw as the most important aspects of a
In serial paragraphs, he listed what he called "the foundations of a
healthy and strong democracy" (66), including "[e]quality of opportunity for
youth and for others" (67), "[j]obs for those who can work" (68), "[t]he ending
of special privilege for the few" (70), and "[t]he preservation of civil
liberties for all" (71). There was no question that FDR treated these
qualities as critical to a democratic state. Yet as lofty as these ideals were, the
president did not clearly portray them as goals to be achieved in a war against
the Axis powers.
Rather, they simply described the inherent qualities of a democratic
state--qualities worth defending, to be sure, but not war objectives or even
qualities that the United States
should attempt to duplicate across the world.
however, offer a shorter list of freedoms that the U.S. had to defend if it hoped to
"regain and maintain a free world" (55). In paragraphs eighty-three through eighty-six,
he described these as "four essential human freedoms," ones that all just
nations had to be "founded upon" (82): "freedom of speech and expression" (83),
"freedom of . . . worship" (84), "freedom from want" (85), and "freedom from
These freedoms, Roosevelt suggested, transcended the inherent qualities of
They also were worth fighting for, even if the nations being threatened
were not democratic.
Roosevelt was thus
making a crucial distinction here. The defense of democracy did not necessarily
mean an attempt to spread the democratic system of governance. It did, however,
mean defending these four vital freedoms, even in non-democratic states. As the president
reiterated four times, these freedoms were vital "everywhere in the world."
The fact that
delineated these four freedoms as "essential" (82) was important to
understanding his implied message. The rescue of democracy from the Axis powers,
he suggested, was not a trick to produce more American-style democracies--what
John F. Kennedy would describe to the next generation as a "Pax Americana." Such a goal
would no doubt have been offensive to many of the world's leaders and citizens,
and it certainly would have been repugnant to the domestic isolationists
listening to the speech. Rather, FDR was holding up a more principled
rationale for battle, one consistent with the "rescue" narrative. The United States, he implied, was not in
this struggle to transform the world, but rather to free it from an
attempt to stamp out basic human rights.
In the end,
Roosevelt's address was an
unusually positive war message in the guise of a policy address. It functioned
not only to describe the participants in a narrative battle, but to define the
war aims of the eventual victor. Those war aims did not include the
conceptually muddled--not to mention widely offensive--goal of establishing
American democratic ideals elsewhere. Rather, the war had a simpler, more universal
worldwide establishment of freedom of expression, freedom of worship, freedom
from want, and freedom from fear. These goals were not only easier to define,
they were finite and acceptable to both internal and external audiences for the
Roosevelt's message, the
war was not only about defeating an evil villain and rescuing democracy; it was
also about helping to build a better world in the name of definable, seemingly
universal human freedoms. These freedoms presumably transcended national
boundaries and functioned as naturalized ideals shared by all of humanity. As FDR concluded,
"[f]reedom means the supremacy of human rights everywhere" (90).
Conclusions: The Legacy of the Four Freedoms Address
rhetorical scholars frequently laud President Roosevelt's 1941 State of the
Halford Ryan calls attention to its "eloquent and patriotic language." Laura Crowell
contends that the speech consists of "an extended series of carefully developed
elements, each contributing to the tone and message of the whole but having its
own individual excellence as well." And Earnest
Brandenburg and Waldo W. Braden suggest that "Franklin Roosevelt's proclamation
of 'four essential human freedoms' . . . . placed the Nazis in an unfavorable light, and
strengthened favorable opinions of the Allies." "Public reaction" to both speech and speaker,
they conclude, "was overwhelmingly complimentary." Several other
scholars have celebrated the speech as an example of excellent public address,
persuasion, and eloquence. Indeed, the address
is so well respected that, by one estimate, it ranks in the top fifty political
speeches of the twentieth century.
Many of those
in the president's contemporary audiences liked the address as well. William Allen White,
the influential newspaper publisher and interventionist, pointed to its
"'glowing, winging words that carried a new faith for a new world.'" Republic
Representative Edith N. Rogers of Massachusetts felt that although the
president's notion of protecting "'the entire world'" seemed "'a very large
order,'" everyone "'must agree with him on the question of preparedness.'" And
Democratic Senator Morris Sheppard of Texas
said that "'[i]t was one of the greatest deliverances of all time, not merely of
American history.'" Clearly, the
address was received favorably by many.
everyone appreciated Roosevelt's words. A group of clergy calling themselves the
American Peace Mobilization told the president that they were "both profoundly
shocked and dismayed" by what they called his attempts at "inspiring fear into
the hearts of our people in order to win them unwillingly to support a war
Senator Arthur Capper of Kansas said that FDR "'is
still making war speeches.'" Eddie Hernan
wrote to the Washington Post that "[e]nouncing [sic] war aims is a
strange development . . . considering the fact that President Roosevelt was
elected precisely for enunciating peace principles." And, from
abroad, Mexican, Rumanian, and Swiss commentators saw the address as "'another
step toward leading the United
States into war.'" Indeed, as one
Mexican source added, "'the United
States already is in the war.'"
What can one
make of these differing perspectives? Considering the address in its time-bound
context, one possible conclusion is that Roosevelt's speech was not a complete success in the sense
that not every partisan faction was persuaded. One of the president's primary challenges in
preparing the address was to mollify the interventionist segment of his audience
and, simultaneously, to take care not to increase the anxieties of the
isolationists who were listening. Certainly, his message and its narrative
undertone satisfied most of the hawks, those who viewed the Axis powers as a
clearly-defined threat and who were agitating for war preparations. However, those who
already feared that FDR was a warmonger seemed to find little to appreciate in
the State of the Union
this delicate balancing task may have been impossible given the polarized nature
of the president's listeners. It was probable that the message was bound to
alienate one side or the other. Yet to consider the address unsuccessful on
this basis is to ignore the speech's evident success at reaching the more
moderate segments of the president's audience. The New York Times, for example, had written just a few
weeks earlier that while it supported the idea of increased aid for Britain, it also felt that "the
American people have . . . no wish and no present intention of entering the war,
and the deepest possible hope of remaining at peace." The newspaper's
later reaction to the address, in contrast, was telling: "[T]he words of
President Roosevelt," it editorialized, "will bring fresh strength and added
courage" to "wherever they are heard by men of good-will." Apparently, the Times recognized
that the president's message was not so much a declaration of war as a
declaration of noble, universal principles.
In fact, it is
the speech's focus on essential human principles that is most striking, and an
important reason why the address ultimately transcended its polarized
Carnegie Council's Joel H. Rosenthal recently spoke about this quality of the
speech, suggesting that it "gave the United States and the world a signature
there were four freedoms, four simple universal principles, that when presented
in plain words, could become a rallying point for fighting against insecurity,
intolerance, poverty, and religious persecution." Wim van Gelder,
speaking at a recent award ceremony for the Four Freedoms Medal, made a similar
point. In his
words, "[t]he most remarkable feature" of the address was that Roosevelt
did not call
on the American people to fight against something. On the contrary, he
called on America and its
allies to fight for something. For the restoration of democratic values, for
the recovery of fundamental human freedoms. Hate wasn't pitted against hate. There were no
exclamations like "We want them dead or alive." No stigmas like "The axis of evil." No. Central to his
speech was a return to human dignity.
Roosevelt's State of the Union address, in other words,
was not a typical war message at all. Its narrative of war was subordinated to a
timeless call for fundamental human principles. It suggested that if the United States ultimately fought
against the Axis powers, it would do so not for the purpose of power, or land,
or prestige, or influence, but for the improvement of human freedoms across the
In a sense,
then, the speech represented an international extension of FDR's aims for the
Nearly a decade earlier Roosevelt had envisioned a way of showing "millions of our
citizens" that they "cannot and shall not hope in vain." The answer to the
current crisis, he said, was a "new deal for the American people," a high-minded
program that would be "more than a political campaign." This program for
hope, he concluded, would be "a call to arms." To be sure, by 1941
FDR's New Deal programs had run their course. But the president's desire to empower human
dignity by calling Americans to arms in the face of crisis had not
Four Freedoms speech was his opportunity to once again try to inspire his
listeners to make the world a better place.
the State of the Union address did end up inspiring many of the president's
number of American artists, for example, tried their hand at depicting the Four
Freedoms in their works. The most notable of these artists was Norman
Rockwell, whose series of paintings--also called the Four Freedoms--appeared in
the Saturday Evening
Post in successive issues in February and March of 1943. The images
proved to be so popular that they toured the country as part of a gigantic war
bond promotion. Later, the
images were sold as reproductions to those on the home front, giving further
life to the president's earlier message. As Rob Kroes points out, "[t]hrough the mass
distribution of reproductions, Rockwell's paintings . . . facilitated the
translation and transfer of Roosevelt's high-minded call to a mass audience."
Roosevelt's Four Freedoms also had
The Atlantic Charter, signed by both FDR and Churchill some four months
before Pearl Harbor,
explicitly included freedom from want and freedom from fear in its principles. Toward the
end of the war, moreover, the Four Freedoms became involved in the negotiations
that would ultimately establish the United Nations. Eleanor Roosevelt,
whose public goal of "four equalities" at home "prefigured and then subsequently
echoed her husband's four freedoms," played a central role in these
negotiations. Ratified by Congress
on July 28,
1945, the U.N. charter did eventually include each of the four
freedoms in its statement on the Purposes of the United Nations. Clearly,
Roosevelt's speech had a
number of historical legacies, impacts which continue to influence the
FDR's peacetime speech had several identities: it was a policy message, an
instance of war rhetoric, and an identification of lofty human principles in the
face of crisis.
The importance of the first two identities has faded over time. What remains in
collective memory is the speech's emphasis on the Four Freedoms, a set of ideals
that underlies popular understanding of the moral righteousness of the
United States and its role in the
war. Perhaps it
is true that World War II was "the good war" fought by "the greatest
generation." Perhaps it is
true, as well, that America was a
"reluctant belligerent" that was ultimately dragged into the war against its
will. Yet what may
have been President Roosevelt's most challenging address emphasizes another
apparent truth: fighting for human dignity and freedom is a cause well worth
James J. Kimble (Ph.D., University of Maryland) is an Assistant
Professor of Communication at Seton
Hall University. He thanks the
archivists at the FDR Library in Hyde Park,
New York, for
their enthusiastic assistance on this project. Correspondence concerning the article should
be addressed to the author at Department of Communication, Fahy Hall, SHU, 400
South Orange Avenue, South Orange NJ 07079 (Email: email@example.com).
 Studs Terkel,
"The Good War": An
Oral History of World War II (New York: Pantheon Books, 1984); Michael C. C.
Adams, The Best War
Ever: America and World War II (Baltimore, MD.:
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1994); and Tom Brokaw, An Album of Memories:
Personal Histories from the Greatest Generation (New
York: Random House, 2001).
 Robert A.
Divine, The Reluctant
Belligerent: American Entry into World War II, 2nd ed. (New York: John
 This is the thesis, for example, of
T. R. Fehrenbach's F.D.R.'s Undeclared War, 1939-1941 (New York: David
McKay Company, Inc., 1967).
 "Talk of Nazi Rule Denied by
Wheeler," New York
2, 1941, p. 19. Even before the election of 1940, some were
accusing FDR of warmongering. See, for example, John T. Flynn's attack in Country Squire in the
White House (New York: Doubleday, Doran, and Company, Inc., 1940),
especially chap. 7, "The President Goes to War," 98-107.
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, "'There Can
Be No Appeasement With Ruthlessness . . . . We Must Be the Great Arsenal of
Democracy,' Fireside Chat on National Security, White House, Washington, D.C.,
December 29, 1940," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1940 (New York: Macmillan Company,
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, "'We
Americans Have Cleared Our Decks and Taken Battle
Stations'--Navy and Total Defense Day Address, October
27, 1941," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1941 (New York: Harper & Brothers
Publishers, 1950), 438, 441, 444.
 Additional examples of FDR's
occasionally belligerent pre-war rhetoric are discussed in Steven Casey's Cautious Crusade:
Franklin D. Roosevelt, American Public Opinion, and the War Against Nazi
Oxford University Press, 2001), 14-15.
 Philip Wander, "The Rhetoric of
American Foreign Policy," Quarterly Journal of Speech 70 (1984):
 There are many
biographies of Roosevelt. The ones most useful here included Joseph
1882-1945: A Centenary Remembrance (New York: The Viking Press, 1982);
Jeffrey W. Coker, Franklin D. Roosevelt: A Biography (Westport, CT:
Greenwood Press, 2005); Joseph Gies, Franklin D. Roosevelt: Portrait of a President (Garden
City, NY: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1971); and David E. Weingast, Franklin D. Roosevelt:
Man of Destiny (New York: Julian Messner, Inc., 1952).
U.S. Presidents as Orators: A
Bio-Critical Sourcebook (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1995),
 Earnest Brandenburg, "The Preparation of Franklin D.
Roosevelt's Speeches," Quarterly Journal of Speech 35 (1949):
Ryan, U.S. Presidents as
 Elvin T. Lim, "The Lion and the
Lamb: De-Mythologizing Franklin Roosevelt's Fireside Chats," Rhetoric & Public
Affairs 6 (2003): 438.
 Graham J. White, FDR and the Press
(Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1979), 13.
Address, March 4,
1933," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, vol. 2 (New York: Random House, 1938),
 Suzanne M. Daughton, "Metaphorical
Transcendence: Images of the Holy War in Franklin Roosevelt's First Inaugural,"
Quarterly Journal of
Speech 79 (1993): 427. See also Davis W. Houck, FDR and Fear Itself: The
First Inaugural Address (College Station: Texas
A&M University Press, 2002).
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, "'December 7,
1941--A Date Which Will Live in Infamy'-- Address to Congress Asking that a
State of War Be Declared Between the United States and Japan, December 8, 1941,"
in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and Addresses of Franklin D.
Roosevelt, 1941 (New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1950), 514,
 Richard W.
the Public for War: Efforts to Establish a National Propaganda Agency," The American Historical
Review 75 (1970): 1641.
background on this point in the conflict, see Robert Edwin Herzstein, Roosevelt and Hitler:
Prelude to War (New York: Paragon House, 1989).
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, "We Will
Extend to the Opponents of Force the Material Resources of This Nation; and at
the Same Time, We Will . . . Speed Up the Use of Those Resources So That We
Ourselves May Have Equipment and Training Equal to Any Emergency . . . ,'
Address at University of Virginia, June 10, 1940," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1940 (New York: Macmillan Company,
 Robert A. Divine, Roosevelt and World War
II (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press, 1969), 33.
 Divine, Roosevelt and World War
 Franklin D. Roosevelt, "The Seven
Hundred and Second Press Conference, December 17, 1940," in Franklin D.
Roosevelt, The Public
Papers and Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1940 (New York: Macmillan
Company, 1941), 607.
 Credible evidence exists that
Roosevelt initiated the
lend-lease program months before Congress officially debated the Lend-Lease Act
of March 1941. As early as September 1940, the United States sent destroyers to
Britain in exchange for Britain "leasing to the United States naval and air
bases in the Caribbean and the Western Atlantic," which Christopher Andrew calls
the "forerunner" of the official lend-lease program. See Christopher Andrew, For the President's Eyes
Only: Secret Intelligence and the American Presidency from Washington to Bush (New York: Harper
Collins, 1995), 95.
 Roosevelt, "'There Can Be No
Appeasement With Ruthlessness."
 Quoted in Warren F. Kimball,
"'1776': Lend-Lease Gets a Number," New
England Quarterly 42 (1969): 260.
 Richard W. Steele, "Franklin D.
Roosevelt and His Foreign Policy Critics," Political Science
Quarterly 94 (1979): 16. On the number of isolationists before Pearl
Harbor, see Justus D. Doenecke, "American Isolationism, 1939-1941," Journal of Libertarian
Studies 6 (1982): 210.
 Lise Namikas, "The Committee to
Defend America and the
Debate Between Internationalists and Interventionists, 1939-1941," The Historian 61
 Loren Baritz, Backfire: A History of
how American Culture Led us into Vietnam and Made us Fight the Way we Did
(New York: Ballantine, 1985), 10.
 John Winthrop, "A Modell of
Christian Charity," in Winthrop Papers, vol. 2, ed.
Stewart Mitchell (Boston, MA: Massachusetts Historical Society, 1931),
294-295. Note that Winthrop's statement is an adaptation of the
first gospel, Matthew 5:14.
 Susan Jeffords, "Rape and the New
World Order," Cultural Critique 19 (1991): 207, emphasis in
 Wander, "Rhetoric of American
Foreign Policy," 353.
 Herbert W. Simons, "From Post-9/11
Melodrama to Quagmire in Iraq: A Rhetorical History," Rhetoric & Public
Affairs 10 (2007): 185.
 Karlyn Kohrs Campbell and Kathleen
Hall Jamieson, Deeds
Done in Words: Presidential Rhetoric and the Genres of Governance (Chicago,
IL: University of Chicago Press, 1990), 52.
 All quotations from Roosevelt's State of the Union Address
are taken verbatim from "Annual Message to Congress, January
6, 1941," audio recording, available at http://www.fdrlibrary.marist.edu/od4freed.html. The parenthetical
number(s) after each quotation in the text indicate(s) the paragraph number(s)
of the speech from which the material derives. The administration's public version of the
text is Franklin D. Roosevelt, "The Annual Message to the Congress, January
6, 1941," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1940 (New York: Macmillan Company,
 The process of gradually defining an
enemy to build up suspense was also used in the Treasury Department's war bond
campaign a few years later. See James J. Kimble, Mobilizing the Home
Front: War Bonds and Domestic Propaganda (College Station, TX: Texas
University Press, 2006), 58.
 FDR used the phrase "everywhere in
the world" directly after listing each of the first three freedoms (83, 84, 85);
after the fourth freedom he used a slightly different phrase, "anywhere in the
 Quoted in "Text of Kennedy's Address
Offering 'Strategy of Peace' for Easing the Cold War," New York Times,
1963, p. 16.
U.S. Presidents as
 Laura Crowell, "The Building of the
'Four Freedoms' Speech," Speech Monographs 22 (1955): 283.
Brandenburg and Waldo W. Braden, "Franklin
Delano Roosevelt," in A History and Criticism of American Public Address, vol.
III, ed. Marie Kathryn Hochmuth (New York: Russell & Russell, 1965),
 Consider two
R. Underhill writes that the address
"fired the enthusiasm of the oppressed peoples of Europe." See his "The Role of Speech in Psychological
Speech 9 (1961): 5. And Laura Crowell and Earnest Brandenburg
argue that the address "envisioned social justice in world terms" that were
See their "Franklin D. Roosevelt: A Study in Leadership through
Persuasion," in American Public Address: Studies in Honor of Albert Craig
Baird, ed. Loren Reid (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1961),
 Quoted in Lionel Scott, "No Ghost
Wrote 'The Four Freedoms'--They Evolved," Western Speech 15 (1951): 56.
 Quoted in "Congress Reaction Widely
Favorable," New York
7, 1941, p. 2.
 Quoted in "Congress Reaction Widely
Favorable," New York
7, 1941, p. 2.
 "Clergyman Group Charges War Aim,"
New York Times,
10, 1941, p. 7.
 Quoted in "Congress Reaction Widely
 Eddie Hernan, "Question War Aims,"
letter to the editor, Washington Post, January
11, 1941, p. 8.
 Quotations from "Message Approved by
Latin Americas," New York Times,
8, 1941, p. 7. See also "Rumania Sees U.S. in War," New York Times,
7, 1941, p. 2, and "Swiss See U.S. at War," New York Times,
9, 1941, p. 16.
 "Aid to
Britain," New York Times,
December 22, 1940, p. 58.
 "Our Purpose
and Our Pledge," New
York Times, January
7, 1941, p. 22.
 Franklin D.
Roosevelt, "'I Pledge You--I Pledge Myself to a New Deal for the American
People.' The Governor Accepts the Nomination for the Presidency, Chicago, Ill.
1932," in Franklin D. Roosevelt, The Public Papers and
Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, vol. 1 (New York: Random House, 1938),
659. For an
insightful discussion of this address see Davis W. Houck, Rhetoric as Currency:
Hoover, Roosevelt, and the
Great Depression (College Station: Texas
A&M University Press, 2001), 125-131.
 For more on the relationship of
Roosevelt's address to
Rockwell's paintings, see Lester C. Olson, "Portraits in Praise of a People: A
Rhetorical Analysis of Norman Rockwell's Icons in Franklin D. Roosevelt's 'Four
Freedoms' Campaign," Quarterly Journal of Speech 69 (1983):
 Stuart Murray and James McCabe, Norman Rockwell's Four
Freedoms: Images that Inspire a Nation (Woodstock, VT: Berkshire House
 Rob Kroes, "American Empire and
Cultural Imperialism: A View from the Receiving End," Diplomatic History
23 (1999): 473.
 When asked later why freedom of
expression and freedom of religion had not been included, Roosevelt allegedly suggested,
somewhat defensively, that they were implied in the document. See this account in
Frank Donovan, Mr.
Roosevelt's Four Freedoms: The Story Behind the United Nations Charter (New
York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1966), 40.
 Diane M.
Blair, "'We Go Ahead Together or We Go Down Together': The Civil Rights Rhetoric
of Eleanor Roosevelt," in Civil Rights Rhetoric and the American Presidency, ed.
James Arnt Aune and Enrique D. Rigsby (College Station: Texas
University Press, 2005), 70.
 Donovan, Mr. Roosevelt's Four
 Terkel, "The Good War," and
Brokaw, Album of
 Divine, The Reluctant