The Ecole Libre at the New School 1941-1946

Social Research, Winter, 1998 by Aristide R. Zolberg

Four days later, Johnson took the proposal to the Rockefeller Foundation, insisting that he was not coming with hat in hand but only to seek advice. The foundation officials were skeptical, pointing out that whereas the Rockefeller program was predicated on the assumption that scholars were here temporarily, "[t] he establishment of such a school would tend to hold these refugees in New York" even if they had an opportunity to return. If their stay was temporary, they would be denied the benefits of exposure to American life and scholarship; and should it turn out that they must stay, their integration into American life would be jeopardized. In their comments written for internal consumption, the staff surmised Johnson was himself unlikely to favor the creation of such an institution. However, he was in fact already deeply engaged in the planning of precisely the sort of institution they advised against. As he explained in a letter to Henri Gregoire, his preference was predicated on the fact that "this is America, a land of immigration, in which the status of a temporary visitor is little regarded." To command interest and respect, the school "must present at least the potentiality of a permanent institution, a sort of bridge between French culture and American." He envisaged it might also accommodate Latin Americans, Spaniards, Portuguese, and Italians, "for whom French is the great language of culture," and many of whom would normally study in France but could not because of the war (RFA, September 30, 1941).(7) And so on October 8, 1941, the foundation was faced with a fait accompli, as one of the staff members informed his colleagues that Gustave Cohen "rushed in to tell me the French University in America had just been created" (RFA, A. M. to J. M., October 8, 1941).

Alvin Johnson's expansive vision was very much in keeping with his overall outlook; but there is little doubt that he also envisioned this new undertaking as an opportunity to enhance the prestige of his ailing institution, as well as to find a remedy for its perennial financial woes. Accordingly, the Franco-Belgian project was quickly incorporated into his fundraising appeals. The following month, for example, Johnson addressed himself to the financier Bernard Baruch, whom he had met on a mission to France during World War I. Beginning with a flattering bit of nostalgia, he wrote:

   Do you remember the thrill we shared when we left the Majestic and landed
   at Cherbourg under the golden sun of France? ... And the soft glory of
   Paris, where you promptly set off to call on your good friend Clemenceau,
   the Tiger, who as usual greeted you with the splendor of French cordiality,
   as the Prince of Israel?

He then pointed out that France still lived, albeit in exile, and went on to inform Baruch that "I am hard at work trying to set up here in the New School what amounts to a French University, of the France that was and will be again." Thanks to the support of the Rockefeller Foundation and of the Belgian government in exile in London, the New School has brought over some twenty of the most distinguished French and Belgian scholars.