For the People: American Populist Movements from the Revolution to the 1850s (review)

American populism has remained an important field of inquiry for historians, political theorists, and cultural critics for more than 100 years. One reason is that populism is not only enshrined in the formal name of a well-known nineteenth-century political party, but it is also a uniquely American form of political rhetoric, used in both language, iconography, and ideology by scores of candidates up to the present day. Formisano's book takes its place in a long line of works in several disciplines that have explored this strain of American political thought. Although his thesis is not unique, the material that he examines certainly is. The long heritage of American populist actions and ideas before the Civil War needs far more attention than it has received; several of Formisano's chapters provide significant new material and insights.

Formisano's fundamental argument is that American populism cannot be categorized strictly as progressive or reactionary, left or right of the political center. To the contrary, he contends that populist leaders and populist movements throughout the American past blended both systems of thought into a stew of allegiances and ideals that defied easy categorization. To his credit, Formisano acknowledges that he is hardly the first historian or political theorist to say that populism is more politically complex, even contradictory, than often realized. In his introduction, for example, he references many the most important scholars whose views preceded his, including Brinkley, Lasch, Kazin, McMath, and Sanders.1 He also acknowledges how difficult it is for scholars with his orientation to maintain an objective view of populism in our recent political climate, in which populist rhetoric is much easier to associate with racism, sexism, and militarism than it is with anything progressive.

Formisano's journey into the early American past, however, helps to clarify and contextualize the heritage of populism, leading to a better understanding of why its political legacy is indeed mixed. In his early chapters, he contends with popular uprisings that have been discussed in this context before, including Shay's Rebellion in the Connecticut River Valley in the aftermath of the Revolution, and the Whiskey Rebellion in Pennsylvania a decade later. He argues that many of these mini-revolutions took place to ensure that the promise of the Revolution—rule by the people—become a reality.

Formisano's most important and innovative material is in the three chapters that recount the rise of anti-masonry, which he names "a new kind of populist movement (91)." In the 1830s and 1840s, a groundswell of anger and hostility toward the elite and ultrasecretive Masonic organizations rocked much of the United States; unlike previous uprisings, it was not limited to rural communities. Anti-masonry led to other political movements on both the right and the left. As Formisano puts it, "Anti-masonry's major legacy to the political culture generally . . . was its impact on shifting the rhetoric of most spokesmen for the major political parties, and particularly the Whigs, to full-blown egalitarianism—at least in style (158)." Formisano makes a strong claim that a little-studied movement impacted American politics for years.

In today's political world, we would be well-armed to understand populism's two-sided heritage. All of the political candidates in the 2008 presidential campaign sought to appeal to the "people," and none as boldly as Alaska governor, self-proclaimed "hockey mom," and surprise vice-presidential nominee, Sarah Palin. Yet to the consternation of the right, the popularity of such appeals fell as fast as the stock market. For three decades, the Republican Party monopolized populist rhetoric, but as 2009 begins, President Barack Obama is poised to reclaim and redefine that legacy for the Democrats once again.