The Professor Who Knew Too Much
Rudy Maxa's Washingtonian profile of Quigley on the conspiracy reception of Tragedy and Hope
A Washingtonian-magazine profile-style piece by journalist Rudy Maxa on Carroll Quigley, centered on the strange afterlife of Tragedy and Hope in the conspiracy-theory subculture of the 1970s — particularly the John Birch Society's None Dare Call It Conspiracy (1971), which made Quigley into a 'reluctant hero' to readers who believed his book documented a Wall Street-international-banker plot to rule the world. The piece is the best single source on Quigley's own attitude toward the suppression and selective citation of his book.
Scope
Eight pages of profile journalism by Rudy Maxa, with collage illustration by Allen Appel. The piece opens with an unsolicited letter from a Tragedy and Hope reader in Rahway, New Jersey, asking Quigley 'for a short explanation as to why you generally approve of the conspiracy' (Professor Who Knew Too Much 1) — a letter Quigley had received many copies of. Maxa then narrates Quigley's biography (Boston Irish childhood, Boston Latin, Harvard, Princeton instructorship, Georgetown professorship, marriage to Lillian Fox), the writing of Tragedy and Hope, its 1966 publication, its mysterious suppression (the destroyed Macmillan plates, the unfilled second printing), and its capture by the John Birch Society after 1971.
Structure
Continuous magazine prose without formal sections. The piece moves in roughly six beats: (1) the conspiracy-reader's letter and Quigley's reaction; (2) the 1966 publication of Tragedy and Hope and Quigley's pre-existing reputation; (3) the John Birch Society's None Dare Call It Conspiracy and the use of '25 pages from Quigley's book' to construct a 'power-mad clique' narrative; (4) Quigley's biography and intellectual formation; (5) his Georgetown teaching, his marriage, his daily routine; (6) the cost of the conspiracy reception — Quigley's worry that 'It blackened my reputation amongst scholarly historians who are going to say, oh, he's one of those right-wing nuts.'
Method — A Sympathetic Profile
The piece is straight magazine journalism, not academic writing — Maxa is interested in Quigley's personality, his teaching, his family life, and his bewilderment at the political uses of his work. The methodological interest for the wiki is the unusual access: Maxa interviewed Quigley at length, captured his actual voice on his book's reception, and reproduced specific exchanges with Birch Society readers and with Quigley's defenders. This is the closest thing the corpus has to a documentary record of how Quigley experienced his own posthumous fame as the documenter of the Anglo-American Establishment and the Council on Foreign Relations.
Key Material
Several passages from the piece are heavily cited in the secondary literature on Quigley: (1) the quotation that Tragedy and Hope was '20 years in the writing' (Professor Who Knew Too Much 1); (2) the line from None Dare Call It Conspiracy labeling Quigley 'the Joseph Valachi of political conspiracies' for 'fingering the bankers and power brokers — the Insiders'; (3) the John Birch Society's stated goal of distributing '15 million copies' of None Dare Call It Conspiracy; (4) Quigley's own complaint about being read by people who 'are going to say, oh, he's one of those right-wing nuts' (Professor Who Knew Too Much 3); (5) the genealogical material on the Boston Irish Quigleys and Carrolls. The piece is the load-bearing primary source for the wiki's treatment of Tragedy and Hope's suppression history.
Significance
Among the secondary pieces, this is the most important single document. The wiki's other primary sources are by Quigley himself; The Professor Who Knew Too Much is an outsider's report on how Quigley appeared in his last years, what he said about the John Birch reception, and how he understood the consequences of having his careful Establishment research turned into Cold War conspiracy ammunition. For readers trying to understand why a Georgetown history professor at the height of the academic establishment became, in death, a foundational citation for American conspiracy literature, this piece is the starting point.
Cited in
- professor-who-knew-too-much · p. 1 Quigley
The Professor Who Knew Too Much — Borrowing a few crucial pages from his book, the ultra-right made a scholar an unwilling hero. By Rudy Maxa.
- professor-who-knew-too-much · p. 1 Quigley
In 1966, Macmillan Company published the history of the world between 1895 and 1965 as seen through the cool, gray eyes of Carroll Quigley, a professor of history at Georgetown's School of Foreign Service. The 1,348-page tome, called Tragedy and Hope, was a commanding work, 20 years in the writing.
- professor-who-knew-too-much · p. 2 Quigley
For identifying 'a power-mad clique (that) wants to control the world,' Quigley was labeled 'the Joseph Valachi of political conspiracies.'
- professor-who-knew-too-much · p. 2 Quigley
John Birch Society President Robert Welch predicted distribution of 15 million copies of None Dare Call It Conspiracy, part of a 'gigantic flare from educational materials called forth by the emotions and events of a crucial election year.'
- professor-who-knew-too-much · p. 3 Quigley
It blackened my reputation, Quigley said, amongst scholarly historians who are going to say, 'Oh, he's one of those right-wing nuts.'