It is a wintry December day in 1941, and the United States House of Representatives Chamber floor hums with a solemn fervor.  The 77th congress gathers, one day removed from an act which will forever live in infamy, to decide the future of a nation left reeling by an attack on American soil.  Amidst the roll call, it is apparent what will happen next – congress will vote to declare war on Japan, thereby ending whatever hope remained for American isolationism, and thrusting the United States into global conflict.  In apparent haste, Mutual Networks left its microphones on, offering families across the country a live broadcast of the proceedings.  They listen as Representative Jeannette Rankin of Montana, barely audible over cacophonous boos, casts the sole dissenting vote against the declaration of war  Upon leaving the chamber, she is forced to retreat into a nearby phone booth to await a Capitol Police escort through the angry crowd gathered outside.

This was not the first time Rankin took a public stand against war.   Just four days removed from her first steps into the capitol in 1917, Rankin voted against American entry into the first world war along with forty-nine other congressmen, drawing ire from both her constituents in the Suffrage movement and her fellow legislators. With fading support in both Montana and from leaders in the Suffrage movement, Rankin was not re-elected after her first term.    Much of the criticism leveled at Rankin’s vote was inherently sexist – the Helena Independent claimed that her actions were that of not of a congresswoman, but a “crying schoolgirl”, and the New York Times reported that her vote came in “hysterical condition”.   Detractors may have pointed to her pacifism as being emblematic of some greater weakness in women – but historian Jody Foley argues that Rankin believed in peace as an extension of feminism and female empowerment.  She explained her beliefs best in a 1977 speech to the Montana Historical Conference, saying that “Half of the human race does not fight and has never fought. . . .[W]hy should men not learn something. . . from the non-fighting female.”   

Rankin would return to congress in 1939, running on a campaign promise of peace in the face of rising tension in Europe and the Pacific.  While it is true that she was elected in part due to the rising popularity of isolationism, Rankin herself did not hold strong nationalist views, or simply believe that war would harm America – her pacifism was built upon compassion, and faith that humanity could rise above the barbarity of conflict.  In a 1943 letter to Gerald F.M. O’Grady, she maintained hope that “someday the people will learn that every country loses every war”.   

When Congress gathered after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Rankin knew that giving a dissenting vote would be far worse for her political career than even her 1917 vote against the first world war.   It seemed the country was alight with a patriotic, retaliatory zeal, and the Capitol was no different.  The brief, eighteen-minute debate on the house floor prior to the vote reflected this, as legislator after legislator echoed pro-war arguments.  Rankin, despite her best efforts, was repeatedly ignored and denied recognition by the speaker.   She hoped not only to espouse the value of peace, but to plead caution from her fellow congresspeople, as in her eyes voting for war “based on brief, unconfirmed radio reports” would be directly opposed to democratic ideals, and “not in keeping with our American way of life”.  Rankin’s concerns aligned closely with those Kennedy quoted from Walter Lippman – that a lack of political courage would birth a climate in which “The decisive consideration is not whether the proposition is good but whether it is popular — not whether it will work well and prove itself, but whether the active-talking constituents like it immediately.” 

Rankin’s vote left her at the mercy of intense vitriol from both “active-talking constituents” as well as figureheads in both Washington and at home.   Her own brother told her in a telegram that “Montana is 100 percent against you”, and the Montana National Republican committee asserted that changing her vote would be the only way to “redeem Montana’s honor”.  Rankin, however, had no intention of changing her vote – a vote based on her steadfast commitment to pacifism.  After the vote, Rankin defended her dissent from the criticism of fellow legislators, stating that “As a woman I can’t go to war, and I refuse to send anyone else”.   Regardless of how Rankin’s vote will be remembered by history, there is no doubt that it was one made solely on her “conscience, [his] personal standard of ethics, [his] integrity or morality, call it what you will”.  With the country watching, in the face of 270 votes for war and what would certainly spell the death of her political career, Rankin’s brave dissent proved that her long standing dedication to peace outweighed her “fear of public reprisal”.  

Rankin may not have bowed to what Kennedy identified as the three “pressures” facing legislators, but she certainly faced their consequences.  She would not hold public office again for the remainder of her life, and was politically ostracized from the state she wished to serve.  Despite the personal consequences of her vote, Rankin continued to find new ways to promote pacifism, organizing efforts to protest the Vietnam war, and advocating for aid to humanitarian crises around the world.  Jeannette Rankin is best remembered as the first woman in congress, and for her leadership in the fight for suffrage – but her vote against war, against the world, will forever live on as a shining example of political courage.