Aiko Herzig-Yoshinaga’s recollection of Japanese internment camps was an eye-opening interview that detailed her experience as a second-generation Japanese immigrant in America during World War II. Internment camps, at the time, were intended to protect national security and were born from a place of fear and xenophobia. Internment camps were a place of incarceration for anyone living in America of Japanese descent, following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. This interview is significant because it expresses American government flaws that we still have not completely corrected today. As recently as 2020, and Trump’s presidential campaign, America and it’s people in power have xenophobic tendencies, referring to COVID-19 as the “Chinese Virus.” Granted, nobody put anyone in internment camps, but these comments and the fearful and ignorant sentiments behind them influenced a lot of hate towards the Chinese-American community. This document is important because there needs to be acknowledgement for the moral wrongs that the government has made, accountability, and change. Herzig-Yoshinaga states, “And I think that that’s one of the most painful experiences, the feelings about the entire wartime experience. That we were judged, not on our own character as people and persons, but simply because of our ethnicity, something that I think goes against the grain of democracy, of the Constitution and every right and privilege that we’re supposed to enjoy as American citizens. It was very difficult to accept being non-Caucasian at the, at the time” (Herzig-Yoshinaga, Japanese Internment).
James Thompson’s “Letter to the Pittsburgh Courier,” a black-owned organization, is a document that outlines Thompson’s sentiments regarding World War II. He, an African American, of course supports the efforts towards victory for America. But, he asks, what for? Thompson writes, “Being an American of dark complexion and some 26 years, these questions flash through my mind: ‘Should I sacrifice my life to live half American?’ ‘Will things be better for the next generation in the peace to follow?’ ‘Would it be demanding too much to demand full citizenship rights in exchange for the sacrificing of my life? Is the kind of America I know worth defending? Will America be a true and pure democracy after this war? Will Colored Americans suffer still the indignities that have been heaped upon them in the past? These and other questions need answering; I want to know, and I believe every colored American, who is thinking, wants to know” (Thompson, Pittsburgh Courier). This document is one that will, like Herzig-Yoshinaga’s, hold significance for as long as we have racial inequality and discrimination in America. This document is important for the same sad reasons that the first one is: There still exists systemic racism in our government. Thompson uses the external issue of war, to remind America that there are still very pressing internal problems that have yet to be resolved. It is a hopeful document that reassures the reader that Thompson was ready to die for his country, even if he felt like he was only half a citizen, because he had faith in a future America that would do better. The themes of his letter resonate today because it is not an unpopular opinion that America could, indeed, still do better, regarding its colored citizens.
Both primary sources have messages of race and what it means to be an American citizen. Aiko Herzig-Yoshinaga describes her experience as a Japanese American and of her time in an internment camp during a time in which her racial differences directly affected her life as an American. America’s external foreign affairs kindled a fearful feeling within the nation, allowing it to affect the way the nation was handled internally. James Thompson writes his letter, supporting America and its cause, while addressing his own grievances with the country as an African American. The war was not a catalyst for these grievances, however, it was taken as an opportunity to remind people about the ongoing racial inequalities that do not disappear with the war. They do not make the same points identically, but both authors would have likely agreed, empathized, and supported each other’s works.
“From Isolationism to Neutrality: A New Framework for Understanding American Political Culture” by Brooke Blower draws the distinction between two polar opposite concepts of foreign policy, isolationism and internationalism, and brings in a third concept to which he refers to as “neutrality.” Following the understood history of (supposed) isolationism in the American 1900’s to the history of its counterpart, internationalism, Blower challenges the idea that these are the only two options of foreign policy that we can study. Isolationism, is explained as the more conservative and less-involved foreign policy, was expressed as an apprehension to join hands with other countries on any stage or platform. On the other hand, internationalism is described as a kind of foreign policy that promotes international organizations, participation, and involvement. Blower states, “ One approach to reconciling this conflicted picture is simply to concede that both currents were vibrant and influential, with internationalism having more weight during the 1920s, only to be temporarily eclipsed by isolationism in the 1930s. But attempting to weigh the waxing or waning impact of two “sides” of debate, or substituting some other dichotomy, will not solve fundamental problems with the internationalist isolationist rubric. The following analyzes the inadequacies of these terms for understanding the interwar years and most especially for disentangling those foreign policy disputes during isolationism’s supposed high water mark between 1935 and 1941,” (Blower, Page 5). From here, Blower elaborates on neutrality and how it is a much better way at analyzing the interwar era versus the two sided coin of isolationism and internationalism. Though, at first glance, this may not be the best article to use in interpreting the primary source documents because Herzig-Yoshinaga and Thompson appeal more to domestic occurrences rather than international, Blower’s concepts can still be translated in a way that connects to the racial tensions of that era. Think of isolationism as the population of people that support racial inequality and of internationalism as the population that does not. It gets a little murky here, because the argument is supposed to be that isolationism is not isolation at all, but an ambivalence. Instead of thinking of it as “supported and opposed,” we can now look at it through the lens of “neutral and opposed.” People who “support” racial inequality do not necessarily support it at all, they just don’t feel too strongly either way to 1) promote it or 2) fight it. This is ambivalence, and can be paralleled to foreign policy and the way in which America divided itself during the interwar era.
These readings are directly connected to all four course themes. We see identity, as a means of who people are and how they identify, whether it be American, Japanese American, or African American. We see inclusion and interaction, because how they identified themselves, and how America identified them directly affected the way that they were excluded and treated (either physically in internment camps, or socially on a daily basis). Institutions are a present theme as well, as we delve into the government policies and institutions that make racial inequality possible. Overall, I’m choosing interaction and institutions because all four apply to the primary source readings, whereas, these two also best overlap into the concepts presented in the Blower reading. Neutrality, isolationism, and internationalism are all ways that our American institutions interact (or don’t) with other governments and organizations around the world.
The secondary source was an extremely difficult reading to tie into the primary sources. It was not easy to connect international foreign policy concepts to domestic affairs. I probably could have chosen easier readings, but the first time I read these two readings, I was instantaneously engaged. I’ve always been more interested in the social aspect of history, and human rights in general. The first two readings didn’t really alter my understanding of history, but it definitely strengthened feelings that I already had. The last reading did alter my understanding of how Americans felt about foreign policy during the interwar era, and how those feelings were complicated and inconsistent and changing.