Iowa’s Antisemitism Bill and 101 Years Since My Grandpa Confronted Henry Ford

A headline with the words “Iowa” and “antisemitism” caught my eye and brought me back to the story of my grandfather. The headline declared that Iowa has become the first state in the country to pass a bill adopting the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism when assessing the motivation behind illegal discriminatory conduct.

That headline took me back to the story of my grandfather, Max Barish, his car dealership in Iowa, Henry Ford, Sr. and the antisemitism of 101 years ago. As I write these words, I wonder if anyone would be interested in something that happened 101 years ago in the little town of Sioux City to a family of Jewish immigrants. It occurred so long ago in such an out-of-the-way place. But is it really so remote? In fact, the story could be an example of what Jews can accomplish when they take a stand on their Jewish heritage and identity, and their own self-respect.

Grandfather Max and his family settled in Sioux City at the turn of the last century. In 1916 they opened a Ford franchise there and were very successful. So much so that Henry Ford, Sr. himself complimented the Barish brothers calling them “The boys who do things.” That was in January 1921 when Ford was desperate for scrap metal to keep his assembly lines running. He reached out to the brothers for help, as reported in The Lion’s Roar, the Sioux City Jewish newspaper. Jews helping the well-known antisemite stay in business? Why not? In those days, his assembly lines employed thousands of workers, and franchise owners like my grandpa were profiting.

Ford bought the Dearborn Independent in 1919 and starting in May 1920 his antisemitic articles became a mainstay of the weekly newspaper, until he finally capitulated and shut it down in 1927. Yet even Iowa’s recently passed law could not have kept Ford from publishing his libelous views or led to the paper’s demise. This bill does not prevent antisemitic speech but rather focuses on defining antisemitism when assessing a discriminatory act.

So, what did convince Ford to shut down? The answer is simple. It was courageous people like the Barish brothers. When Ford took over the newspaper, he demanded that his franchise owners make it available for the customers in the showrooms. Well, okay, they thought. It’s just sitting there. Maybe no one will notice.However, by September 1921, Ford had changed his policy. He declared that the Dearborn Independent was a “Ford product” just like his cars and ordered his dealers to actively promote the sale of subscriptions to all who entered.

The answer is simple. It was courageous people like the Barish brothers.

It was one thing to ignore the newspapers lying unnoticed in a corner, but to encourage customers to buy the slanderous, antisemitic propaganda was another story. Grandpa Max and his family refused to comply. They put their pride in their Jewish heritage before their business, before profits. The brothers confronted Ford in a letter sent to the company, which they published on September 5, 1921 in a full-page ad in the Sioux City Daily Tribune. “Please consider this our notice of cancellation of the Ford Sales agreement to take place immediately.” They were calling out the antisemite and they wanted their loyal customers and the public to know why they were closing the business. Obviously, this act alone did not convince Ford to stop publishing his newspaper, but reactions like it and repeated protests by Jews and non-Jews alike kept the pressure up until a court case accusing the Independent of libel finally motivated more aggressive actions against Ford, including the boycotting of Ford products.

What took them so long? If an immigrant family could give up everything and start again, where were the rest of the Jews? What are our priorities today?

Laws defining what constitutes discrimination against Jews are important. But would we need so many bills and definitions if more Jews, and others who experience discrimination, learned to stand up and call it what it is? If my grandfather could, anyone can.

Galia Miller Sprung, who moved to Israel in 1970 to become a pioneer farmer, is a retired high school teacher, writer and editor.