Prospectus Feature: Lew Fonseca and the Myth of Democratic Baseball

Baseball has a storied and deliberate history of being connected to American politics, from its roots in the Civil War to presidents throwing Opening Day first pitches to the widespread belief during World War II that baseball made America more peaceful than Europe. Though it is correct that these connections have in some ways produced an American baseball synonymous with American politics, these efforts have perpetuated the dangerous belief that the mere existence of American democracy safeguards people from suffering and persecution.

These issues were on full display in a 1951 Lew Fonseca short film titled The Democracy of Baseball. The film was packaged as a celebration of the game on behalf of the National League’s 75th anniversary and the American League’s 50th. The 17-minute film was shown to baseball writers, boy scouts, and young baseball players, among many others, as a means of educating them on the sport’s history. However, the heavy-handed American democratic and militaristic ties to the sport on display in the film present a superficial account of the game that, in service of specific political goals, omits the real, full nature of baseball’s American-ness.

In case the title did not do so, the film immediately makes clear its purpose by featuring an introductory screen that reads:

This motion picture is dedicated to a nation of free people who have found in sport and in sports competition an undying exemplification of those principles of justice and liberty and democracy which point to a better world.

Switching immediately to the game itself, the film features a grandfather telling his two grandsons about the history of baseball. They eagerly listen (“Say, will you tell us all about it when we get home, Gramp? We wanna know how it started and all the rest!”), captivated by his stories of Abner Doubleday and the sport’s invention, Candy Cummings’ introduction of the curveball, and the careers of greats such as Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Cy Young, Lou Gehrig, Mel Ott, Ted Williams, and Connie Mack. Enveloping these images are the messages of baseball’s democratic nature and its importance to America.

The long list of players noted in this film have all “lived and fought and played the game the American way,” eventually becoming American heroes. Precipitating this rise to heroism is baseball’s guiding principle, “fair play,” which promotes a constant level of equality throughout the majors. If, according to Connie Mack, you have “physical ability, brains, courage, and good habits,” you can find success in the game, regardless of your color or creed.

Baseball is open to everyone, so long as they have talent. Accompanying these remarks are scenes of fans at various baseball stadiums, which the Galveston Daily News summarizes thusly: “Shop-girls, kids, truck drivers, law clerks and celebrities carry out the democracy theme as they shoulder through turnstiles to watch performers in a game which has lowered its last racial barriers.”^[1]

In line with much of American history, the film itself features three white characters who tell the predominately white history of the game. The only non-white person featured is a short clip of Jackie Robinson fielding a ball. Fonseca presents the All-Star game as the starkest example of democracy: fans by the millions vote for the most deserving players. There is no mention of the grassroots democratic effort of a number of groups to end segregation. Indeed, there is no mention of black players, period. Not even Jackie Robinson gets called by name.

Desegregation is merely the final note on a checklist. It would perhaps seem unfair to chastise a 17-minute film for glossing over the complexities of desegregation were it an anomaly and not an active component of erasing the struggle of black ballplayers. Although the color barrier was broken in 1947, by 1951 only seven of 18 teams had integrated, and it would be another eight years before the final team, the Red Sox, followed suit. It took 14 more years for baseball to have a black manager, and three years after that for a black general manager. Black players had to live up to much higher standards as many clubs looked for reasons to bench or demote them.

Jackie Robinson achieved massive success and became a fan favorite, but he still received death threats from vocal racists, and non-vocal ones used him as a measuring stick for all other black athletes. The labeling of desegregation as a tidy democratic triumph after only a handful of black players made the majors—and had to massively outperform white players to do so—enabled MLB to dictate its pace, impeding its progress. This made it difficult for black and Latino players to assert themselves as both legitimate baseball players and rights-bearing human beings.

This democratic facade manifests itself in class distinctions, as well, as it asserts that the only barrier to success is hard work. In 1952, Robert L. Finch, PR director for the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues, spoke at a fundraising event about the meaning of democratic baseball. He heralded the game as being truly American in that both enable a boy “to go as far as he wants to.” However, this democracy is threatened by the bonus rule, which forces clubs to “spend themselves out of existence” and counters the chief lesson of baseball, “how to sacrifice in a democracy.”^[2]

At a point in America at which appearing in any way to be anti-democratic meant being treasonous, sentiments like Finch’s are mechanisms of control. They ensure obedience through using Red Scare language to achieve full financial control of players. It monetizes “effort,” leaving players in a position in which they are forced to play for very little (the average annual salary was $14,000) on the grounds they have not yet earned otherwise.^[3] Unsurprisingly, this left black players at the bottom of the payroll.

The latter part of the film links the sport to militarism. Accompanying clips of army and navy officers, Fonseca states that baseball has “kept step with Uncle Sam.” Because the sport develops “strong bodies, keen minds, quick, decisive action, cooperation and fair play,” it is the perfect game for servicemen to play. Enthralled by the game, servicemen bring it with them everywhere, thus, “wherever Old Glory flies, this heartfelt voice of America proclaims the eternal brotherhood of the game.”

Fonseca’s final words are “there will be no end to the democracy of baseball.” These last remarks parrot those made by A.G. Spalding in his 1911 baseball history book, "Base Ball has ‘followed the flag.’ … wherever a ship floating the Stars and Stripes finds anchorage to-day; somewhere on nearby shore the American National Game is in progress.”^[4]

Though baseball has always been linked to American military efforts, the 1950s provided a unique opportunity to make it the focal point of the sport. American isolationism ended when the country entered WWII, and the resulting conflict with the Soviet Union changed the landscape of American international relations for decades to come. By 1950, the Red Scare occupied much of American politics, as a select powerful few feared Communism would overtake democracy and bring ruin to America. Resulting from this fear was an extreme push to sell loyalty to America and insert “American values” into all aspects of life.

Fonseca’s film was the most prominent anti-Communism display of baseball, but it was not alone. Throughout the country, various politicians and baseball officials gave speeches to American youths, urging them to take up baseball as a means of combating Communism. In November of 1951, Yankees sportscaster Mel Allen gave a speech at the first annual Little League banquet in which he espoused the virtues of baseball as a “powerful bulwark against … the threat of Communism.” The game teaches young boys “that persons of all races, creeds and colors can play on the same team … and learn to respect others in the true spirit of Christian brotherhood.”^[5]

This view migrated outward with the work of Dr. C Guyer Kelly, an American who began establishing baseball teams in Tunisia in the 1930s. He increased his efforts in the early 1950s, believing “the good old American game of baseball, played in sandlots across the world, is more likely to teach democracy, create international understanding, and route Communism than is all the displays of silk-hatted ambassadors.”^[6] The American Legion had also been combating Communism since the 1930s, but it took a more militaristic approach to the matter. Its Junior League, one of the most fruitful development leagues for MLB, instilled in its youth a militaristic dedication to Americanism they were not to question.

Ford Frick maintained close ties with the American Legion and adapted its rhetoric to Major League Baseball. The “Czar of baseball,” famous for eliminating All-Star game fan voting, gave numerous speeches to college and high school students wherein he reaffirmed baseball’s democratic ties. Baseball offers the antidote to “Communism, Fascism, and all other isms” because it houses “four freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution—assembly, religion, opportunity, and speech.”^[7] In combination with competition and discipline, these freedoms exemplify the American way.

Baseball became so quickly entwined with the Cold War that in 1950, cartoonist John Churchill Chase depicted Stalin as a baseball player, deciding between a number of bats labeled as various countries, as the world, holding a glove, looks on.^[8] The connection was strengthened through numerous efforts to use the game as a stand-in for American values in countries vulnerable to Communism. Various ambassadors to South American countries, such as Venezuela and Colombia, championed baseball, helping establish several American baseball leagues in each country.

Many of these countries had well-established baseball leagues, but they did not play the American way, and so the ambassadors refused to recognize their legitimacy. In 1950, the San Francisco Seals toured Japan in an effort to expel the Communist encroachments on the country. Recalls Seals coach Del Young: “When we got there the Communists were on the soap boxes on almost every street corner. But we hadn't been there long before they disappeared in the crowds. I don't think they'll get far now."^[9] When employed in a militaristic fashion, baseball was believed to be an effective means of repelling Communism.

The final scene of the short film is the grandfather telling his grandsons, “This great game of baseball will go on forever. But our story comes to an end.” In just 17 minutes, this grandfather has laid out the entirety of baseball’s history. In 17 minutes, this old man, sitting comfortably on his couch, erased the uncomfortable and real account of baseball from history. His grandchildren will not know of its past racism and they are not meant to perceive it in its present state. They are only supposed to associate baseball—and America—with what is right. To them, baseball has no story outside of the American story.

Though there is much to admire about baseball, and it has undeniably become entwined with American history, the version transmitted in The Democracy of Baseball serves as nothing but propaganda for an increasingly fragile democratic America. In doing justice to the game, it is necessary to tell its complete story in hope of instilling in new fans a desire to address its deficiencies and push it toward actual democracy rather than the manufactured product sold in the 1950s.