Arthur Miller: Death of a dissenter

    Arthur Miller, the American playwright, died on 9 February, aged 89,
    having battled with cancer, pneumonia and a heart condition. Tributes
    were carried in the international media. Newspapers as far apart as the
    New York Times, the Boston Herald, the Daily News, in addition to the
    Times, the Daily Telegraph and the Observer, were compelled to recognise
    Miller’s eminence in his field. It was a life that had seen the Wall
    Street crash, World War Two, the Holocaust, and the McCarthy era.

    Tony Mulhearn

    Miller was a literary colossus who penned some of the most revealing
    insights into the corruption of corporate practices and the concept of
    the ‘American Dream’. Death of a Salesman, View from the Bridge, The
    Crucible and All My Sons, are just some of his works which are now
    classics.

    Arthur Miller was born in New York City in 1915, the son of a
    prosperous garment manufacturer whose business was a casualty of the
    Great Depression of 1929-31. This experience fuelled his instinctive
    radicalism and began his politicisation.

    Miller worked in a warehouse after graduating from high school until
    he saved enough money to move to the University of Michigan where he
    studied journalism and playwriting.

    Success

    After the outbreak of World War Two, Miller moved to New York to
    pursue his writing. His first successful play, staged on Broadway in
    1947, was All My Sons which dealt with a corrupt arms manufacturer,
    whose selling of faulty aircraft parts to the US air force during the
    war led to the death of servicemen.

    This was followed by Death of a Salesman, which was acclaimed as a
    masterpiece, won the Pulitzer Prize and is now synonymous as Miller’s
    critique of the American Dream (or, if you’re Willy Loman, the American
    nightmare). It starred Lee J. Cobb as Willy Loman and the then icon of
    the left, Elia Kazan, directed both plays. The two men subsequently
    played a baleful and crucial role in Miller’s later life.

    Anti-communism

    The House un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), originally set up
    by Congress to investigate Nazi activity in the US, turned to
    anti-communism under Richard Nixon’s leadership.

    In the 1950s it became a tool of Senator Joe McCarthy’s rabid
    anti-communism, supported by right-wing republicans thirsting for
    revenge for Roosevelt’s New Deal. It tapped into a mood of anxiety,
    which was fuelled by the existence of Stalinist-dominated Eastern Europe
    and the emergence of communist China in 1949.

    McCarthy’s witch-hunt targeted the motion picture industry as a
    so-called hot bed of sedition and communist sympathy. An atmosphere of
    fear and uncertainty swept post-war America. Hundreds of activists and
    radical liberals who had supported various peace campaigns which sprang
    up during and after the war were hauled in front of HUAC and asked the
    question: "Are you or have you ever been a member of the Communist
    Party (CP)?"

    If they took the Fifth Amendment, they were damned for contempt. If
    they answered yes, they had to apologise and give the names of friends
    and colleagues who had been at CP meetings. If no, they had to prove it.
    If they refused to name names they were in contempt of Congress, faced
    with jail and prevented from working in their own industry.

    Appalled by this blatant violation of basic human rights, Arthur
    Miller began to write The Crucible, a play that would reflect the
    activities of HUAC. To research material he paid a visit to Salem,
    Massachusetts, the scene in 1692 of the most grotesque witch-hunt in
    American history. Ironically, it was while on his journey to Salem that
    he heard of Elia Kazan’s decision to collaborate with HUAC.

    Kazan’s betrayal

    In his biography, Time Bends, Miller describes Kazan’s attempt to
    justify his decision: ‘Listening to him I grew frightened. There was a
    certain gloomy logic in what he was saying: unless he came clean he
    could never hope, in the height of his creative powers, to make another
    film in America, and he would probably not be given a passport to work
    abroad either.

    ‘If the theatre remained open to him, it was not his primary interest
    anymore; he wanted to deepen his film life, that was where his heart
    lay, and he had been told in so many words by his old boss and friend
    Spyros Skouras, president of Twentieth Century Fox, that the company
    would not employ him unless he satisfied the Committee…. I was growing
    cooler with the thought that as unbelievable as it seemed, I could still
    be up for sacrifice if Kazan knew I attended meetings of the Communist
    Party writers years ago and had made a speech at one of them.’

    Self-justifying

    In the early 1950s, Kazan made On the Waterfront, a film about the
    Mafia controlling the stevedores’ union on the New York docks. Budd
    Schulberg, who wrote the book and the screenplay, and most of the
    principal actors, including the aforementioned Lee J Cobb, were
    ‘friendly witnesses’, collaborators with HUAC. In his own biography
    Kazan conceded that he made the picture to show that if the
    circumstances demanded it, it was OK to betray your friends.

    In response, Miller wrote The View from the Bridge, also set in New
    York’s dockland. In contrast to the lionisation of Brando’s character in
    Waterfront, it attacked the role of the stool pigeon Eddie Carbone for
    his act of betrayal.

    Witch-hunted

    In 1956, Arthur Miller’s name was projected onto the pages of the
    world’s popular press when he married Marilyn Monroe and was found
    guilty of contempt of Congress for refusing to name names to HUAC.

    He describes his revulsion at the morals of HUAC when its then chair,
    right-wing senator Francis Walter, offered to drop the charge if he
    could persuade Monroe to be photographed shaking his hand. Miller and
    Monroe both refused.

    According to Nicholas Hytner, director of the film adaptation of The
    Crucible, starring Daniel Day-Lewis, Miller used to joke that, as a
    measure of the play’s timeless relevance, you could get an indicator of
    the level of international political persecution by counting the number
    of productions taking place around the world.

    To demonstrate the truth of that observation, it was staged on
    Broadway just after the Patriot Act had been brought in.

    Disenchantment

    During the 1990s, Miller expressed his disenchantment with the New
    York theatre by spending more time in Britain. In one of his last
    articles, he declares that the Broadway theatre has succumbed to
    glorious, glamorous show business.

    He was right. Everything is about the bottom line. The theatre now
    parallels capitalism’s obsession with downsizing, delayering,
    streamlining, privatising, and other euphemisms for sacking workers or
    attacking wages and conditions.

    Miller argued that his great plays would not now be staged on
    Broadway because they required ‘too many people.’

    Arthur Miller, while pronouncing and writing boldly about the
    political issues of the century, was explicitly political in his
    analysis of society but never joined a political party. David Mamet,
    director of Glengarry Glenross a film that parallels Salesman, in his
    New York Times tribute, suggests that there is an acceptance in Miller’s
    work that it is the ‘human lot to try and fail’.

    However, this is a profoundly pessimistic analysis. Whilst writing
    about the dark side of society, Arthur Miller constantly brought out and
    underlined humankind’s potential for nobility. To the end, he never
    lapsed into cynicism, or abandoned his vision of a more humane and just
    society.

    Socialism

    Socialists can refer to his work as a means of popularly explaining
    the evils of capitalism, but also explaining how such evils can be
    eliminated by the socialist transformation of society. On that score,
    Arthur Miller’s contribution to this debate remains priceless.