Adam S. Bennion to John M. Whitaker, 6 September 1921, John Mills Whitaker, Papers 1849-1963, MS 2, box 18, folder 4:

“Dear Brother:

“The Governor of our State has set aside September 17^th as ‘Constitution Day.’  It is most fitting and commendable that we should be mindful of the great document that has guarded American Liberty and love and justice all these years.

“The Latter-Day Saints have always stood loyally by the flag and have been proud of the Constitution.  The following item from an account of the first parade in the Pioneer celebration July 24, 1849, reflects the spirit of our forefathers:

“‘Richard Ballantyne, one of the twenty-four men, came to the stand, and in a neat speech, presented the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States to President Young, which was received with three shouts, ‘May it live forever’, led by the President.

“‘The Declaration of Independence was then read by Mr. Erastus Snow, the band following in a lively air.’

“In these days of bolshevism and lawlessness it is good to consider the great and inspired truths that underlie secure government.  Let us see to it that every student in Church Schools and Seminaries has a clear conception of both his opportunities and his obligations under our Constitution.

“Sincerely your Brother,

“/s/ Adam S. Bennion

“Superintendent.”

George H. Brimhall to John M. Whitaker, 15 January 1923, John Mills Whitaker, Papers 1849-1963, MS 2, box 18, folder 11:

“Dear Brother:

“Please send me a copy of your last term or quarter’s examination questions.

“Kindly inform me on the following points:  Do you have singing and prayer at the opening of your classes?  Our national anthem bears evidence of the fact that our Republic and our religion are inseparable.  The composition contains the sentiments inquiry, exultation, determination and patriotism, and it is full of faith, hope, reverence and ends climaxically with prophecy based on a trust in God.

“It is hoped that during the month of January February every Seminary student will become able to write from memory the Star-Spangled Banner, and thus make of our Seminary classes a force that will never fail in the community singing of this song of songs.

“It is encouraging to know that all of the lines of progress are being kept up in our work:  History, geography, doctrine, by supervised study, clear explanation, free discussions and drill, and that training is kept up by attention to spiritual exercises and outside church activities….

“Sincerely yours,

“/s/ George H. Brimhall”

These letters provide an interesting glimpse into the Americanization of Mormonism during the early twentieth century; however, at the same time they also demonstrate the continued sentiment of transition era Mormons that they needed to continue to prove the fact that they were—and, in their own minds, had always been—genuine Americans through overt displays of Americanness.

In terms of content, these letters reveal a Mormonism that had blended nicely with the rest of American culture.  Fears of bolshevism and reminders about the importance of America were certainly not uncommon during this period.  Indeed, a major premise of the public school system was the democratization and Americanization of youth, particularly those that were foreign born.  Hence, the fact that the seminary was used to instill a hatred of bolshevism and a reverence for the Constitution and the National Anthem is not surprising.  Like the public schools it was connected with, the seminary program became a tool of Americanization with a goal to increase the patriotism of its participants.

In these letters, however, we see not only a Mormonism that had bought into the idea of Americanness, but we likewise see glimpses of a Mormonism that was still struggling to prove itself to the country, as well as to defend its own past.  Within these letters it is clear that Mormons were still trying to convince the country that they were patriotic Americans.  Brimhall’s letter suggests a fear that if Mormons did not know the national anthem by heart, their Americanness might be called into question.  Bennion’s emphasis on the importance of students knowing the Constitution likewise suggests such a fear.

Bennion’s efforts to promote Americanness, however, went further than a mere emphasis upon knowing the Constitution.  For Bennion, proof of Mormonism’s devotion to America had to be proven not only in the present, but also in the past.  Hence, one of the ways that Mormons began to prove themselves to be genuinely American was through the adoption of a narrative that emphasized Mormon patriotism over Mormon distinctiveness and separation.  Bennion’s statement that “The Latter-Day Saints have always stood loyally by the flag and have been proud of the Constitution,” suggests a selective interpretation of Mormon history that excluded touchy subjects like the Council of Fifty, Polygamy, the Utah War, and the almost joyful way that Latter-day Saint leaders spoke about the destructive events of the American Civil War.  In essence, what we see in Bennion’s letter, in particular, is the crafting of a new narrative of the Mormon past.

In many ways, Bennion’s approach to Mormon history proved to be highly successful.  While Mormons have continued to reverence nineteenth century leaders like Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, they have rarely brought up divisive issues in their reverence.  Indeed, while orthodox nineteenth century Mormons frequently reverenced Young precisely because of his willingness to oppose the U.S. Government, twentieth century Mormons have preferred to emphasize events such as the one described in Bennion’s letter which seemed to reveal only deep seated patriotism.

Undeniably, one of the most underrepresented areas of Mormon historiography is the study of the International Church.  Trapped in a historiography that is almost universally dominated by nineteenth century Americanists, Mormonism’s international history often goes unnoticed and unevaluated.  While several reasons—some of which are beyond the control of Mormon historians—account for this underrepresentation, the fact nevertheless remains that Mormon history largely remains a branch of American history in spite of Mormonism’s growing international presence.

Accordingly, Néstor Curbelo’s History of the Mormons in Argentina is an important step toward filling a large hole in the historiography of Mormonism.  To go along with his history of the Church in Argentina, Curbelo has likewise written histories of Mormonism in Uruguay, Paraguay, and Boliva.  Although Curbelo is a native of Uruguay, he has lived most of his adult life in Argentina, where he has worked as the director of the Church’s Institute in Buenos Aires.

As with all histories, Curbelo’s book has both strengths that make it well worth the time to read, and weaknesses that prevent it from becoming a more significant contribution to the historiography.  Perhaps the book’s most important contribution is its wealth of primary information coming from interviews and oral histories.  While some portions of the book are filled with random dates and information, the majority of the book is a rather personal look at the beginnings of the Church in Argentina, with glimpses into the personal lives of the earliest members.  In preparing the book, Curbelo interviewed a number of the earliest members of the Church in Argentina as well as the descendants of those who had died.  By conducting these interviews and recording these stories alone, Curbelo has made an important contribution to Mormon history, and has helped to preserve a history which otherwise might be lost.  It is sincerely hoped that Curbelo will, at some point, deposit his notes of these interviews in an archive where they can be accessed and combed for further information regarding the beginnings of Argentine Mormonism.

Additionally, while the title of the book suggests that it would be entirely provincial, Curbelo acknowledges not only the American origins of the Church, but also the Church’s Latin American origins.  The first two chapters describe Parley P. Pratt’s mission to Chile, and the origins of the Church in Mexico as important preludes to the introduction of Mormonism to Argentina.  While both chapters are rushed and could undoubtedly be expanded and improved, they help to contextualize the remainder of the book and perhaps set a precedent which Americanist Mormon historians would be wise to follow.

While Curbelo recognized the importance of contextualizing the beginnings of Argentine Mormonism within the growth of the Church in other Latin American countries, he did not, unfortunately, contextualize the growth of the Church within the context of Argentine history.  Absent from the book are references to the political chaos which enveloped Argentina during these years.  His chapter on the growth of the Church during the 1970s and 1980s omitted any reference to the Argentine “Dirty War,” during which, by some estimates, 30,000 Argentines “disappeared” due to government purges.  While this remains an uncomfortable subject for most Argentines, it nevertheless profoundly affected their lives during that period and would have made an important addition to the book.  One section of the book does refer to an interesting interchange between David O. McKay and Argentine President Juan Perón, but it fails to adequately acquaint the reader with the politics and ideas which Perón adhered to.  Hence, some readers were undoubtedly left to their vague recollections of a supporting character in the movie Evita.

In terms of writing, the book does not always flow, making the book seem a little longer than its 230 pages, but much of this problem may be the result of translation rather than poor writing.  This is not to say that the book is poorly translated, but rather to remind the readers of the difficulties of language translation.  All things considered, Erin Jennings has done a remarkable job in translating Curbelo’s book into English, a process which anyone will agree is by no means easy.

Overall, the book is an important step forward in the study of international Mormonism.  It is to be hoped that in the future, a historian with an adequate understanding of both Mormon and Argentine history will be able to build upon Curbelo’s book and render an even more nuanced history of Mormonism in Argentina.  Indeed it is to be hoped that further books will begin to fill in the story of the International Church.

Each of these collections has yielded valuable material that I would likely have never seen; however, these collections also pose an important question for Mormon historians who access their information, namely, “To what degree can we rely upon the research notes of other historians, particularly when the sources are unavailable to us, in our historical research and writing?”  It seems to me that collections like these put Mormon historians in a difficult possition.  Often they contain information that greatly augments our arguments and that helps to prove our points.  At the same time they contain within them a built in counterargument, that they were manufactured by the historian who composed the notes.  Ideally access to at least some of these collections would be granted, thus lessening the need to rely upon others’ notes, but in the meantime Mormon historians must grapple with the question of to what extent they can and will use such notes.

In answer to a question in regard to adjourning Primary meetings and let[ting] the children go to the Religion Class in the Winter, President Felt stated that it would not do to lose the children in our Primary meetings. . . .

A sister from Juab Stake reported that Religion Classes were for the purpose of getting the children who did not attend the Primary and through their influence attendance in Primary was increased.  Sister Rogers corrected those remarks, but thought they should not conflict with Primary.  Sister Clayton stated the original purpose for organizing the Religion Class was to gather boys and girls between the ages of twelve and fourteen who would not attend Primary.[2]

While some of the Primary leaders apparently disagreed that the two organizations were intended to train children within the same age groups, this overlap seems to have been a core part of the problem between the two organizations.  By teaching the same age group as the Primary, the Religion Classes not only infringed upon the Primary’s pool of children, but it also infringed upon the pool of Church members from which the Primary drew its teachers.  In some stakes, this problem was heightened as members were asked to split their time between the two programs.  Ultimately Primary officials felt compelled to complain to the First Presidency about the diminished number of effective Primary teachers.  George Q. Cannon responded to these complaints by reaffirming the importance of the Religion Classes and urging the two programs to work the problem out together.[3] These problems between these two organizations eventually became a major factor in the church’s first attempts to develop a program to correlate the curricula of the auxiliaries and to eliminate unnecessary overlap between the various programs.[4]

While organizational overlap played a crucial role in this conflict, gender also played an integral role.  The Primary was led and staffed chiefly by female members of the church.  Indeed, the very idea for the Primary had come from the consultations of two Mormon women.[5] On the contrary, the Religion Class program was a male dominated program.  While some of the teachers for the Religion Classes were female, the leadership of the program was decidedly male.   Indeed, the General Board of Religion Classes sharply chastised one stake president who had appointed a woman to serve as the Stake Superintendent of Religion Classes.  The board wrote to the stake president that “At a meeting of the General Board of Religion Classes…it was moved and unanimously carried, that in the future when a vacancy occurs in the Stake Superintendent of Religion Classes, that the Stake Presidency appoint MEN only to that position.”[6]   

Since both programs were concerned with the teaching of Mormon youth, this rivalry came down to a question of which gender was best suited to the training of children.  Some attempted to take a middle of the road approach, suggesting that “the Religion Classes and the Primary Association be united into one organization whose field shall be the teaching of manners, morals, and religion, and that these combined organizations be placed in charge of one general board comprising both women and men.”[7] Two decades later, in 1929, the programs were officially combined; however, it was a combination in name only, as the Religion Classes were absorbed into the Primary Association.  Hence, Mormon leadership concluded that women were more suited to the teaching of LDS children than were the men.  At the same time, teaching positions for adolescent Mormons in the seminaries remained decidedly male.[8] Indeed, historian Frederick Buchanan notes that in turn of the century Utah, there was a “bias towards viewing men as more capable of dealing with the intellectual content of the schools, while women were perceived as ‘nurturers.’”[9] While the decision to eliminate the Religion Classes served to expand female autonomy in some ways, it also underscored and strengthened Mormon constructions of gender.[i]

Although the changing Mormon concepts of gender must not be viewed as the sole motivating factor in the dissolution of the Religion Class program, its contribution cannot be ignored.  While the Religion Class program has long since been forgotten by the vast majority of Mormons, the contributions that it made to Mormon concepts of gender are still in practice.

[2] Stake Officers and General Board Minutes of the Primary Association, 6 April 1901, as quoted in Harward, “A History of the Growth and Development of the Primary Association,” 131.

[3] Harward, “A History of the Growth and Development of the Primary Association,” 132.

[4] Joseph F. Smith, Conference Report, (April 1906): 3; James E. Talmage and Mae T. Nystrom to First Presidency, July 29, 1907, in Kenney Collection, box 9, folder 23, Special Collections, HBLL.

[5] James B. Allen and Glen M. Leonard, The Story of the Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City:  Deseret Book Company, 1976), 378-379.

[6] Edwin S. Sheets to John F. Tolton & Counsellors, 3 September 1914, Tolton correspondence, folder 11, LDS Church Archives.

[7] Talmage and Nystrom to First Presidency, 29 July 1907, Kenney Collection, Special Collections, HBLL.

[8] See “LDS Seminary Teachers at Brigham Young University 1929,” PH 6124, LDS Church Archives.  This picture demonstrates that during the late 1920s, the seminary and institute faculty of the church remained primarily male.  A picture 5 years later, in 1934, reveals little change in this trend.  Sainsbury Photo Co, “Department of Education Seminary Teachers Convention 1934,” PH 2640, LDS Church Archives.

[9] Buchanan, Culture Clash and Accomodation, 17.

[i] First Presidency to Presidencies of Stakes, 29 May 1929, in Clark, Messages of the First Presidency, 5:267.

Recently I have had a few conversations with friends and ward members regarding the institution of Plural Marriage. A few of them have been shocked to hear that it was instituted and practiced by Joseph Smith. They had been under the impression that the practice, if not the revelation, had been instituted by Brigham Young rather than Joseph Smith. When they learn that Joseph had plural wives, their immediate response is, “Well, he didn’t treat them like Emma, right? They weren’t wives in the full sense, right?” I don’t remember where or when I first learned that Joseph had had plural wives, but I don’t recall being as shocked at the notion as these friends have been. For me this brings up an interesting question. Are members of the Church more comfortable attributing Mormon historical practices that they don’t understand to Brigham Young than to Joseph Smith? If so, what does this say about our understanding of Brigham Young as the Prophet and successor to Joseph Smith?

Begun in 1890, the Religion Classes were developed by the General Board of Education in response to the Utah Free Schools Act and the difficult economic conditions that existed during the Depression of the 1890s. Originally, the classes were designed to provide weekday religious instruction to LDS children because the Church couldn’t afford to build and maintain elementary schools. There was also the hope that they would serve the growing population of LDS teenagers who were unable to attend one of the Church run secondary academies (schools such as Ricks, BYA, Weber, etc.), though this hope never really materialized.

The classes would meet once a week for an hour following the regular school day, and were often taught in the public school building by the public school teacher if that teacher was LDS. This close relationship with the state schools created problems with parents of other faiths and with the government which were brought up during the Smoot hearings, and culminated in a 1905 letter from the First Presidency instructing the classes to be held in some other location so as to avoid further troubles.

Other troubles plagued the classes throughout their history because of the program’s close resemblance to the Primary program, which was also held on weekdays following school. Friction developed between these two auxiliaries, leading some bishops to refuse to organize Religion Classes in their wards. This problem continued throughout the history of the program, and only a year before the program’s dissolution, Heber J. Grant threatened to release any bishop in the Church who refused to organize the classes. Beginning in 1906, the Church made an effort to correct these problems by organizing its first correlation committee, but little progress was made in this regard. And the program was finally terminated in 1929 with the Primary taking over full responsibilities for the children of the Church.

I find these classes to be fascinating for several reasons. First, they represent the Church’s first major effort to provide supplementary religious education to children in public schools. While this may not sound impressive today, this was an important concession for the Church to both allow and encourage the participation of its children in the public schools. Prior to this time, there had been a deep seated fear that such participation would lead the children to reject their religion, particularly if they were being taught by “gentile” teachers. This decision represented a partial acceptance by the Church of the wider American culture which they had rejected prior to this time. At the same time, it reflected an unwillingness of the Church to fully adopt American culture by continuing to exercise their influence within the public schools. Second, the difficulties experienced in the administration of the classes demonstrates the uniqueness of each ward and reminds us that there is greater diversity in Mormonism than we sometimes attribute to it. Finally, these classes were a precursor to the present seminary and institute systems. In many regards, I believe that Joseph F. Merrill’s creation of the first seminary was in direct response to some of the failings of the Religion Classes. Rather than pressing for early morning or after school classes, Merrill was emphatic that the classes be held during the school day at an off campus location. It is also fascinating to me that Merrill did not ask that the seminary be made into an auxiliary of the Church, but that it would maintain a separate identity so as to avoid conflicts with the other auxiliaries.

A fascinating example of this shift was demonstrated to me as I came across a diary written by one of my ancestors, Jonathan Calkins Wright. In 1848, Wright was called on a mission by Brigham Young to return to Illinois and to try and round up some of the Saints that had not yet left Illinois and to encourage them to go west with Brigham. Among his first diary entries is the following, written on January 13, 1848:

Visited Emma Smith (Emma Bidamon) found her filled with hatred towards as she says-the Brighamites-they were all liars and the first principal Brigham taught them was to lie and she could not believe anything they said. I asked her if she meant to include all the Brighamites in that charge as she called them, she included me, and I did not lie. Says she, if I had an opportunity of talking with you one hour you would lie, or would not acknowledge the truth of what Brigham’s teaching was-I told her Brigham never taught me an unrighteous or unvirtuous principle or doctrine in his life. Says a gentile bystander (a woman) I suppose he does not teach those principles only to them that would practice them-and to them he thinks is honest he would not teach those doctrines to. I told them I had hard time enough, to get into the Church, but since I had got in all had been right with me ever since, and my way to Heaven was over the Rocky Mountains-Emma said she could go to Heaven without going to the Mountains-I told her I believed Jesus Christ had established his Church or Kingdom by revelation, and it should be an everlasting Kingdom, and it should not be thrown down-or left to another people. She believed it was established by revelation as much as I did-but the revelation said, that came by that man I thought so much of, (Jos.) if the church did not do so and so they should be destroyed-and I know they have not done it, so let God be true and every man a liar-all creation could not prevail on me to go with that crowd because I know better-and some of the rest was finding out their folly when it was too late-well, they might have done as she told them, for they knew she never told them a lie in her life.

When my great aunt read this entry, she noted that this diary revealed much about Emma’s unwillingness to come west with the Saints. On the other hand, when my mom read this entry a couple of weeks ago, she reacted in Emma’s defense, suggesting that our ancestor had simply not understood how many difficulties Emma had endured. That contrast reveals much about the way that the LDS understanding of Emma Smith has changed in the past 40 years.

I find myself somewhere in the middle. I agree with my Mom that perhaps our ancestor was unduly harsh, writing under the motivation of some of the anti-Emma rhetoric which had begun to appear among the “Brighamites” in the aftermath of the martyrdom. However, I likewise agree with my great Aunt that this diary entry is not just the result of people misunderstanding Emma, but of Emma’s divergence from the body of the Saints led by Brigham and the Twelve, particularly on the issue of plural marriage.

In my mind, accepting either extreme creates some difficult problems for our understanding of Church history. Certainly the perpetuation of anti-Emma rhetoric is problematic because of the great amount of good that she did for the Church and because of the fact that she was Joseph’s first and preeminent wife. However, I believe that an unwillingness to admit that Emma had some fault in the post-martyrdom falling is equally problematic, creating the question of whether following Brigham and the Twelve was actually necessary for Saints during the 1840s, which is clearly an unacceptable alternative for believing Latter-day Saints.

As for myself, I’m not entirely sure what should be done with the revisioning of the post-martyrdom Emma Smith. My opinion is that historians must exercise a generous amount of mercy in their judgments while retaining due honesty in their writing. In essence, this is simply a good case study for the ever present problem of LDS biography. Thoughts?

In theory I agree with my friend’s assessment of the situation. It is clear that the number works on Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and the early years of the Church far outweigh the number of books on twentieth century Church leaders and history. Although books like Alexander’s Mormonism in Transition, Prince’s biography on David O. McKay, and Kimball’s biography on the Spencer W. Kimball Presidency years do much to enhance our understanding of twentieth century Mormon history, they are too few and far between. As a simple matter of historiography, the niche in Mormon history appears to be firmly settled in the twentieth century. However, I’m not that this is a practical possibility, at least for the present.

There are several reasons for my pessimistic outlook.

First, without access to the journals and papers of important leaders like Heber J. Grant and Spencer W. Kimball, as well as the minutes of some of the organizations, our understanding of Church history during these years will remain quite limited. As a matter of personal opinion, I understand and agree with the restrictions imposed on many of these items. I’m not one to argue that the Church Archives is involved in some sort of conspiracy against historians. On the contrary, I have found the archivists and librarians to be most helpful, securing access for me wherever possible. I merely suggest my hope that in the coming years, some of the restrictions will lessen on important sources, at least those which are over 70 years old.

Second, it seems that within the Church we often have an easier time dealing with human imperfections that are further removed from our own time. The closer we get to the present, the more nervous we seem to become. I think that this is particularly true in light of the changes that Mormonism underwent around the turn-of-the-century. Peculiarities in nineteenth century Mormonism can be easily brushed aside with the thought, “Look how much further advanced we are than them.” But if we are to benefit from our history, we must be willing to see the imperfections and mistakes in which we may personally have played a role.

Finally, while I would not say that this is an appropriate reason for many aspects of the history, some parts of twentieth century Mormonism are simply still too recent to adequately assess. However, I believe we must take a page from our own past when it comes to recent events. Joseph Smith did not feel that 1832 or 1838 were too recent to record his recollections of and thoughts about the significance of key events in his life. B.H. Roberts did not believe that the 1910s were too recent to write an interpretive history of Mormonism, even up to his present.

I have discovered a good example of the dangers of waiting to record our history as I have researched the Church’s Religion Class program, which was an auxiliary program from 1890 to 1930. Materials on this program are scarce, and recollections by those who were students in it are even harder to find. Tragically, most of those who were beneficiaries of the classes have long since died, with the only remaining participants being in their 90s. Those who might have been a rich source of knowledge about this program have taken their experiences and recollections with them and are no longer able to share them with us.

While there are reasons to be pessimistic about the possibilities of twentieth century Mormonism, I believe that we must make an effort to expand the history of Mormonism beyond just Joseph and Brigham. It is a niche that needs to be filled and we as a Church have a mandate to fill it. As far as I know, the commandment given to John Whitmer never read “It is expedient in me that my servant John should write and keep a regular history until the twentieth century.” (D&C 47:1).