Literary allegory can be a useful tool for investigating the ways in which contemporaries frame the political conflicts of their day. L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, written in 1899 as the first of a highly popular series of children's books, was, we shall argue, an allegorical account of the travails of William Jennings Bryan in the presidential campaign of 1896. It was also a utopian projection of the fruits of victory, should Bryan win the presidency in 1900. By exploring this allegory, we call attention to such features of the Populist political landscape as their view of the maligned farmer, the dehumanized industrial worker, and the uneasy alliance between the Populists and the Democratic Party.

BACKGROUND

Under normal circumstances, campaigns for the presidency are not the epic struggles that inspire allegory. But the presidential campaign of 1896 was not conducted under normal circumstances. The country at the time was faced with the greatest depression in its history. In May of 1893 the stock market collapsed, setting off a chain of bank failures, industrial lay-offs and farm foreclosures.

Out of this economic distress the proposal to abandon the gold standard and to use both gold and silver to back the currency took on the characteristics of a religious crusade. With declining wages and dropping farm prices, many thought the bimetallic monetary standard would loosen credit and increase the money supply, stabilizing wages and prices and spurring a general economic recovery. The debate that emerged over whether the nation should break from the gold standard dominated discussion within the Democratic and Republican parties, and fueled the hopes of the fledgling Populist party that they might become a major party themselves (Glad, ch. 4).

William Jennings Bryan, whose career rose and fell with the issue of free silver, called it “a question that touches every man, woman and child in the nation, a question of right or wrong, a question of justice or injustice, a question of freedom or slavery” (Jones 72). Bryan understood that this issue addressed the despair of many Americans who had been pushed to their limits by the costly depression. Using free silver as his primary issue, Bryan was able to secure the Democratic nomination for President despite being only 36 years old—the youngest nominee of a major party in American history. In so doing, Bryan wrenched the Democratic party from its ties to business interests and fashioned a new Democratic coalition that would attempt to bring together workers and farmers.

When fundamental decisions about who we are and how we shall live enter the political realm, they inspire not only intense passions but also literary allegory and utopian thinking. L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is known today primarily because of the 1939 movie, The Wizard of Oz (Baum). But the film changed the original book in a few small but critical ways, causing Baum's message to the adults of his day to be lost. Perhaps most importantly, Dorothy wore silver shoes in the book rather than the ruby slippers of the movie. The silver shoes were the focal point of the struggle between Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West, and ultimately the shoes were her means of returning home. Baum, like many Americans in his day, placed his faith in the power of free-silver to return the country to prosperity.

Though largely apolitical, Baum was powerfully impressed by the misery of the American farmer during his tenure as the editor of a local weekly newspaper in a small town in South Dakota between 1888 and 1891. Baum saw local farmers plagued by drought, blizzards, grasshoppers, high freight rates, and falling crop prices. This concern manifests itself in Dorothy's Uncle Henry, who is near bankruptcy. Dorothy tells the good witch Glinda that “unless the crops are better this year than last, I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it.”

Once leaving South Dakota, Baum moved to Chicago in 1891. At the time, Chicago was home to notable currents of progressive social reform. But the optimism of the reformers was curtailed by the depression of 1893, which left workers unemployed and their families often hungry and homeless. Some reports suggested that over 100,000 people in Chicago alone were unemployed during the winter of 1893-1894 (Glad 72). The plight of the Chicago worker, coupled with the hardship of the farmers he had seen in South Dakota, cemented Baum's commitment to the plight of the common man. Baum's convictions found a home in the candidacy of William Jennings Bryan. When the Democratic Party nominated Bryan in 1896, it was the first recognition by either of the two major parties that the hard times required a major shift in policy. Baum marched in torchlight parades for Bryan in 1896 and in 1900, the sole public political acts of his life (Baum and MacFall 85). When in the late 1890s he turned his hand to writing a children's adventure fantasy, it was only natural that he should draw inspiration from the political drama that was then unfolding. Baum's protestations in the forward to his book that “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz was written solely to pleasure children of today” must be set against the strength of his convictions and his professed desire to write stories that “bear the stamp of our times and depict the progressive fairies of today” (Gardiner and Nye 30).

As with most fairy tales, there have been many attempts to interpret The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Some interpretations see the tale as representing Baum's reaction to the lush landscape of his adopted home in southern California; others see the book as an example of the American dream, showing that even a lowly Scarecrow can rise to a position of power; and still others see the book as an illustration of the power of positive thinking, a popular philosophy then known as “mind-cure.”¹

Despite such divergent interpretations, we are persuaded by the broad outlines of an interpretation offered by Henry Littlefield over 25 years ago (Littlefield 47-58). In that interpretation, Littlefield argued that Baum was writing a “parable on populism” in the 1890s. While we feel that Baum was indeed commenting on the politics of the era, we disagree with many of the specifics of Littlefield's interpretation. In what follows, we shall offer a new interpretation of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, one that provides a fascinating glimpse of how one observer of the times regarded the motley coalition of Populists and free silver Democrats that rallied around the charismatic leadership of Bryan. In our view (and contrary to Littlefield), Dorothy Gale represents William Jennings Bryan, the Democratic nominee of 1896 and 1900. Dorothy's adventures in the book are an allegorical version of the obstacles that faced Bryan in his quest to make government responsive to the needs of the average citizen.

A NEW INTERPRETATION

The heart of our argument rests on the belief that Baum used Dorothy to represent William Jennings Bryan. As heroes of their respective tales, both Dorothy and Bryan are notable for their youth, and for the fact that the main assets each brought to their arduous tasks were sincerity and an unwavering sense of purpose, rather than experience, guile, or craftiness.

Bryan was a powerful orator, known as “The Nebraska Cyclone.” He came to the 1896 Democratic convention as a longshot for the nomination, but moved the delegates to a frenzy of acclamation with his address, known today as the “Cross of Gold Speech.” Like the cyclone that lifted Dorothy's house to the Land of Oz, Bryan was lifted by the delegates to come crashing down on the presidential hopefuls from the Eastern (establishment) wing of the Democratic party. When the house came down at the end of the convention, the Wicked Witch of the East, outgoing President Grover Cleveland, was dead.

Winning the Democratic nomination was not the end of Bryan's mission, of course. He had also to win the election of 1896. To do this, Bryan undertook the first ever “whistle stop campaign.” If the yellow brick road is the campaign trail, then both Bryan and Dorothy had a long trip ahead of them. Bryan was sent off on his campaign by the cheering Democratic delegates. Dorothy was sent off by the cheering Munchkins, whose bizarre appearance could well approximate that of many convention delegates.

The journey would not be an easy one. Baum's book, unlike the movie, makes a point of the fact that Dorothy often lacked enough food for herself and Toto. Despite the many hardships that faced Dorothy on her way to the Emerald City to meet the Wizard, “what worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and another meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket.” Bryan too was hungry for much of the campaign. He was poorly funded, and the vast Republican advantage in money is believed to have been a major factor in his ultimate defeat (Anderson; Jones).

Bryan and Dorothy were not sent off on their quests entirely alone, of course. Dorothy had her magic silver slippers, Bryan had the free silver platform. Dorothy was accompanied by her dog Toto, Bryan had the support of the Democratic party. Both were setting out on journeys into the unknown, and in order to succeed Bryan and Dorothy each put together supportive coalitions noteworthy for their unusual assortment of character types.

Dorothy first recruited the Scarecrow, who personifies the group that formed the backbone of Bryan's coalition, namely the farmers. More than anyone she met later, the Scarecrow was always there to support Dorothy through her hazardous journey. In accordance with the popular prejudice about country bumpkins, Baum's Scarecrow believes that he has no brain and wants to get one from the Wizard in the Emerald City. Yet when Dorothy and her band are faced with challenges, it is generally the Scarecrow who thinks of a solution. When the Wizard leaves his throne at the end of Baum's book, it is the Scarecrow who is placed in charge of the Emerald City. Informed by his experience in South Dakota, Baum's portrayal of the Scarecrow both refutes popular prejudice about the American farmer and elevates him to an honored place at the end of the book.

Dorothy and the Scarecrow next met up with the Tin Woodsman [sic], who symbolizes the industrial workers. Their support would be crucial to any presidential victory by Bryan. Baum's book tells us that the Tin Woodsman was once a human being, but the Wicked Witch of the East had cast a spell on his axe, which caused him to hack himself to pieces. The Woodsman was put back together by a skilled tinsmith, but he was no longer fully human because there was no heart in his new body. With this gruesome tale, Baum expresses his and the Populists' disgust with the way capitalism had dehumanized the industrial working class. Baum was hopeful, though, that the Tin Woodsman would join Dorothy in order to get a new heart. As it turned out, urban workers did not join Bryan in nearly the numbers necessary to elect him President.

We owe our interpretation of the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodsman to Littlefield's account of the Populist basis of the tale. But we part company from Littlefield in his interpretation of the Cowardly Lion. Littlefield contends that Bryan is the Cowardly Lion (and Dorothy is “Miss Everyman”) (Littlefield 52). But Baum was an admirer of Bryan's and would have no reason to label him a coward; even Bryan's political opponents considered him a fierce campaigner. We suggest instead that the Cowardly Lion represents the Populist party, an interpretation reinforced by the fact that the Populist party was sometimes represented by a lion in cartoons of the period (McNall 142).

The Populists faced a difficult choice in 1896 after Bryan's nomination by the Democrats. Bryan embodied their political values, but if they joined the Democrats in making him their nominee they ran the risk of losing their own identity as a political party. Some populists felt their party's decision to join in the nomination of Bryan was cowardly, since the party chose thereby to forego an independent role in the election. The Populists had been considered a major third party threat in 1896, and like the Cowardly Lion they had a fearsome roar. But that roar belied their lack of courage to fight an independent campaign. As Baum's Lion laments, “If the elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight me, I should have run [away] myself—I'm such a coward.”

Dorothy and Toto had been lifelong companions, just as Bryan had spent his political career with the Democrats. As the Democratic presidential nominee, Bryan sought the support of farmers and labor, just as Dorothy actively solicited the support of the Scarecrow by lifting him down from a pole, and of the Tin Woodsman by oiling his joints. The Cowardly Lion, by contrast, sprung on the group uninvited and unwelcome. Toto (the Democratic Party in Baum's whimsical and partisan rendering) “did not approve of this new comrade at first, for he could not forget how nearly he had been crushed between the lion's great jaws; but after a time he became more at ease, and presently Toto and the Cowardly Lion had gotten to be good friends.” After initial tensions, the Democrats and the Populists were also able to work together for Bryan's election.

The Cowardly Lion represented the last key segment of Dorothy's coalition, and his presence completed the gathering of five characters that set off for the Emerald City. In their travels they faced many obstacles: big ditches, wide rivers, fierce animals, and poppy fields. These hurdles could well represent the many difficulties facing Bryan and his coalition in their efforts to win the 1896 election. Thanks to the combined efforts of each member of the coalition (in which the Scarecrow shows his intelligence, the Woodsman his compassion, and the Lion his courage) the group overcame these obstacles to arrive at the Emerald City, where they begged the Wizard to grant their requests. The Wizard refused them, just as the White House was denied to Bryan in 1896.

The loss in 1896 was not the end for Bryan and the Populist coalition, however. Just as Bryan set his sights on the election of 1900, so Dorothy and her companions were promised that their wishes would be granted if they overcame one more obstacle, namely slaying the Wicked Witch of the West. The struggle between Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West would be the final battle over possession of the silver shoes, just as the presidential campaign of 1900 between Bryan and McKinley would be the final battle for free silver.

It is at this point that Baum, writing in 1899, passes from an allegory on the recent past to a utopian projection of the future. He recognized that Bryan's path to the White House would not be easy, but there was certainly room for optimism.

In the 1896 election, the swing of a few thousand votes could have given Bryan a majority in the Electoral College. But Baum and the Populists had no illusions that the campaign in 1900 would be an easy one. In his story, the Wicked Witch of the West sent wolves, crows, killer bees, and ensalved Winkies against Dorothy and her band, but without success. Finally, the Wicked Witch of the West used the powers of her golden cap to summon flying monkeys to attack Dorothy and her companions. The flying monkeys capture Dorothy, disperse the Scarecrow, dump the Tin Woodsman on a pile of rocks, and enslave the Cowardly Lion.

Despite these difficulties, the power of the silver shoes proves to be greater even than the powers of the golden cap. When the Witch meets Dorothy, “She looked down at Dorothy's feet, and seeing the silver shoes, began to tremble with fear, for she knew that a powerful charm belonged to them.” Ultimately, Dorothy destroys the Wicked Witch of the West in a battle over possession of the silver shoes. In gratitude for liberating them, the enslaved soldiers of the Witch fashion for the Tin Woodsman “an axe-handle of solid gold and fitted it to the … [blade which] glistened like burnished silver.” Dorothy herself took to wearing the golden cap as well as the silver shoes, and from here to the end of the book the combined powers of the two objects helped her overcome many obstacles. The defeat of the Wicked Witch of the West meant the victory of bimetallism, the core element of the Populists' program.

With evil now vanquished, Dorothy and her companions march on the Emerald City once again. The reigning Wizard is exposed as a blustering fake who had convinced the residents of the city that they were living in lush green surroundings by having them wear tinted spectacles. The Scarecrow calls the Wizard a “humbug,” Baum's play on the political jargon of the day, which divided people into “goldbugs” and “silverbugs.” The Wizard had been able to fool his subjects into believing he had great powers by remaining hidden in his Throne Room—a bitter satire on the reclusive habits of a succession of late 19th century presidents, as Littlefield has pointed out (Littlefield 56).

Nonetheless, the Wizard pretends to give each member of Dorothy's coalition what they came for. Baum comments on the art of politics when he has the Wizard reflect “How can I help being a humbug when all these people make me do things that everybody knows can't be done? It was easy to make the Scarecrow and the Lion and the Woodsman happy, because they imagined I could do anything.” Having done what he could, the Wizard abdicated his throne, leaving the Scarecrow in charge of the Emerald City. Dorothy is carried home at last by her silver shoes, and the victory of the Populist coalition is complete.

IN CONCLUSION

Allegories are not simple transcriptions of real world events into another setting. It is clear that The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is first and foremost exactly what it seems to be: a children's tale of wonder and imagination. But Baum was also writing from political convictions formed in South Dakota and Chicago, where he saw firsthand the misery of the American farmer and worker. Like Christian in Pilgrim's Progress, Baum portrayed Dorothy as overcoming many obstacles with the help of the silver slippers to defeat the evil witches and to win a better world for the Scarecrow, the Woodsman, and the enslaved residents of Oz. The contrasts between good and evil are painted starkly, and the rejoicing when evil is vanquished is absolute.

Nearly 100 years later, Baum's allegory is a reminder that Bryan's presidential campaigns were seen at the time as having the character of a crusade, one founded on a simple faith in the power of bimetallism. Unlike Dorothy's successful quest to return home with her silver slippers, of course, Bryan's free silver crusade did not take him to the White House in 1900. The historical value of the allegorical dimension of Baum's work comes from the fact that he wrote in 1899—the last full year of shining hope for the Populist coalition.

The later Oz books (there were 14 in all) also contained political undercurrents. In the second book of the series, The Marvelous Land of Oz, the Emerald City is captured by an army of girls in what appears to be an extended satire on the suffragette movement. But these were reluctant sequels, written to satisfy the continuing deluge of requests that Baum received. The Marvelous Land of Oz appeared only in 1904, four years after the original book and at a time when Bryan and the cause of free silver had passed from the scene. It is the first book in the series, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, for which Baum will always be remembered, and which itself presents a utopian allegory of one of the most dramatic presidential campaigns in American history.

Note

1. For a recent sample of interpretations, see Timothy Cook, “Another Perspective on Political Authority in Children's Literature: The Fallible Leader in L. Frank Baum and Dr. Seuss,” Western Political Quarterly (1983) 326-35; Karen Lehman, “Beyond Oz: The Path to Regeneration,” Social Policy (Spring 1988) 56-58; Jerry Griswold, “There's No Place But Home: The Wizard of Oz,” The Antioch Review (1987) 462-75; Charles Royer, “Federalism and Oz,” in Samuel Beer (ed.) Federalism: Making the System Work (1982) 15-16; Michael Patrick Hearn (ed.), The Wizard of Oz (New York: Schocken Books, 1983); David Lowenthal, “Last Thoughts From Oz,” History Today (1988) 9-11; and William R. Leach, “A Trickster's Tale: L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” 157-88 in William R. Leach (ed.), The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Publishing Company, 1991).

Works Cited

Anderson, David D. William Jennings Bryan. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1981.

Baum, Frank J., and Russell MacFall. To Please a Child. Chicago: Reilly and Company, 1961.

Baum, L. Frank. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Chicago: George Hill, 1900.

Gardiner, Martin, and Russell Nye. The Wizard of Oz and Who He Was. East Lansing, MI: 1957.

Glad, Paul. McKinley, Bryan and the People. New York: Lippincott, 1964.

Jones, Stanley. The Presidential Election of 1896. Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 1964.

Littlefield, Henry. “The Wizard of Oz: Parable on Populism.” American Quarterly (1964).

McNall, Scott. The Road to Rebellion: Class Formation and Kansas Populism, 1865-1900. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1988.