Lead, Follow, Or Get out of the Way? Arizona History and the Nation
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Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way? Arizona History and the Nation Katherine Benton-Cohen Journal of Arizona History, Volume 61, Numbers 3&4, Autumn/Winter 2020, pp. 667-692 (Article) Published by Arizona Historical Society For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/775442 [ Access provided at 10 Feb 2021 18:50 GMT from Arizona Historical Society ] Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way? Arizona History and the Nation By Katherine Benton-Cohen n one of my favorite children’s books, Gila Monsters Meet You at I the Airport, the young narrator describes his reluctant move to the West from New York City.1 “Out West,” he fears, “nobody plays baseball because they’re too busy chasing buffaloes . there’s cac- tus everywhere you look. Out West, everybody grows up to be a sheriff. I want to be a subway driver.” Worst of all, says his best friend Seymour, “Gila monsters meet you at the airport.” Soon, though, our narrator’s plane touches (desert) ground at a seem- ingly lizard-less western airport. There he meets his counterpart, a young western boy moving east: “He looks like Seymour, but I know his name is Tex.” “Tex” fears the East, where he is sure “the streets are full of gangsters,” “it snows and blows all the time,” and “alligators live in the sewers.” En route to his new house (who knew they had taxis Out West?!), the narrator sees restaurants and baseball fields, kids on bikes—and, yes, a horse. It turns out life Out West looks famil- iar. On the last page, he reports that he will write “a long letter to Seymour. I’ll tell him I’m sending it by pony express. Seymour will believe me. Back East they don’t know much about us westerners.”2 Like John Ford scenes of Monument Valley, the illustrations of the book, with their saguaro cacti and Gila monsters, are clearly 1 The author wishes to thank readers Stephen Aron, Samuel Truett, and Thomas E. Sheridan, as well as the close guidance and patience of editors David Turpie and Katherine Morrissey. 2 Marjorie Weinman Sharmat, Gila Monsters Meet You at the Airport (New York, 1980). KATHERINE BENTON-COHEN is a professor of history at Georgetown University. She is the author of two books, including Borderline Americans: Racial Division and Labor War in the Arizona Borderlands (2009). JOURNAL OF ARIZONA HISTORY [667] VOL. 61, NOS. 3&4 (AUTUMN/WINTER 2020) the journal of arizona history set in Arizona, even if they stand for “Out West.” The 1980 book is partly autobiographical. Author Marjorie Weinman Sharmat moved from Manhattan to Tucson in 1975 with her husband and teenaged sons. She even lent her own address to the young nar- rator’s (165 E. 95th Street). The picture book pokes gentle fun at regional stereotypes, even as it acknowledges that a few have some truth (some kids do wear cowboy hats, there are horses, and in the East the subway is crowded). In the process, her book shows how Arizona is both like and unlike other parts of the country. Equally important, it recognizes that New York City is just as weird, if not weirder, than Arizona.3 One might ask, is Arizona a part of a whole, a leader or a follower, a fish out of water, or a pea in a pod? Do Gila monsters meet you at the airport? * * * * * In spite of my light-hearted opening, serious concerns motivate what follows. As I write, academic and public debates rage about immi- gration and the border, conservative politics, Indigenous rights, and environmental issues. In this essay, I offer some thoughts about Arizona’s relationship to the West and to the nation, and how these relationships have changed over time. I pay special attention to how and which academic historians, presses, and audiences have produced or paid attention to Arizona history. In what follows, I first consider Arizona’s place in historical writing about the West and the nation (with the caveat that my own knowledge and cover- age by other authors in this volume tilt my historiographical anal- ysis toward southern Arizona). I compare Arizona to other parts of the West—especially New Mexico―to provide context for my larger generalizations, which come from my own position as what one might call an “insider-outsider,” as an Arizona native and his- torian who visits often but has not lived permanently in the state in three decades. I briefly examine how Arizona’s demographics and economic indicators have changed over time. This is the con- text for considering new controversies over immigration and bor- der policy, especially the advent and aftermath of 2010’s SB 1070, 3 On Sharmat, see https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Gila-Monsters-Meet- You-at-the-Airport/Marjorie-Weinman-Sharmat/9780689713835 (accessed September 4, 2020). For a thoughtful meditation on the creation of an “East” to complement a “West,” see Flannery Burke, “The Arrogance of the East: How Westerners Created a Region,” West- ern Historical Quarterly 49 (Winter 2018): 383‒407. [668] Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way? the state legislation (much of it since invalidated) intended to crack down on undocumented immigration. In short, what do I think Arizona’s relationship is to the rest of the country? What I suspect is not surprising: Arizona is becoming more like the nation, and the nation is becoming more like Arizona. These tendencies mean, in my view, that Arizona history deserves more attention than ever from historians and academic presses. The History and the Myths: Arizona and Historiography In 1934, Utah native and Harper’s Monthly columnist Bernard DeVoto labeled the American West the “plundered province.” The idea, he admitted, was not entirely his, but the name stuck. In January 1947, he reprised the essay, writing, “economically the West has always been a province of the East and it has always been plun- dered.” DeVoto used as one example among many the attempts to take “ten or twelve million acres in Arizona and New Mexico” out of the public domain and sell them to private lumber and cat- tle interests. Historians have emphasized the American West’s out- sized and ambivalent relationship with the federal government.4 Likewise, political scientists who study the rise of the Sunbelt region identify the role of the federal government in its rise as one of its three central characteristics.5 In 1991, Richard White called the American West the federal state’s “kindergarten.” White notes, “Federal ownership of the public domain gave the central gov- ernment a distinctive permanent presence in the West,” while “an equally obvious governmental presence came through the territo- rial system.”6 (Arizona was part of the United States for sixty-four years before attaining statehood.) Depending on one’s perspective, the federal government’s role in this “plundering” can go either way—as taker or savior. In DeVoto’s mind, federal landownership was a defense against 4 Bernard DeVoto, “The West: Plundered Province,” Harper’s, August 1934, pp. 355‒64; Bernard DeVoto, “The West against Itself,” Harper’s, January 1947, pp. 1‒13. On the other hand, it is his only mention of Arizona in the article. The postwar year 1947 was timely, as in retrospect—and even at the time—it became clear that the West was changing and growing rapidly. Both essays can be found in Bernard DeVoto, The Western Paradox: A Conservation Reader, ed. Douglas Brinkley and Patrician Nelson Limerick (New Haven, Conn., 2001). 5 See Rachel M. Guberman, “Is There a Sunbelt After All? And Should We Care?” Journal of Urban History 41 (Nov. 2015): 1167. 6 Richard White, “It’s Your Misfortune and None of My Own”: A New History of the American West (Norman, Okla., 1991), 158, 154. [669] the journal of arizona history rapacious private interests. For many Arizonans and outside busi- ness interests, it was an unnecessary and perhaps unconstitutional infringement on free enterprise. But there’s an internal colonial- ism point of view, too; historian Andrew Needham has argued that coal-fired power production turned the Colorado River Plateau into an internal “plundered province” of the city of Phoenix.7 Modern Arizona would not exist without the largesse of the federal government. It prosecuted the Indian Wars on white set- tlers’ behalf, administered hundreds of thousands of acres of Indian lands, financed huge reclamation projects under the Newlands Act (Salt River Project was one of its first, whose dams now provide water to the fifth-largest metropolitan center in the United States), and it expanded defense industries and bases in the post‒World War II era, including Fort Huachuca (dating to the Indian Wars) and Davis- Monthan, Williams, and Luke Air Force bases, which helped create modern Tucson and the Phoenix suburbs. Federally funded interstate highways linked Arizona’s major municipal areas in a north-south and east-west orientation that continues to shape development— from Flagstaff to Phoenix to Tucson to Nogales and with I-40 moving east-west to link northern Arizona with the intermountain region. Arizona’s large amount of federal land typifies this distinc- tive feature of the American West.8 In 2018 the thirteen states with the highest percentage of federal land were all in the American West. Arizona ranked eighth. Nearly 39 percent of its land—more than twenty-eight million acres—belongs to the federal govern- ment, and these figures do not include Indian reservations, which occupy 27.1 percent of Arizona and would thus significantly raise the state’s ranking. More than 80 percent of the state’s federal land is split almost evenly between the Bureau of Land Management and the Forest Service.