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Introduction

In the summer of 1931, Ellen Starr Brinton, a pacifist from Pennsylvania, traveled to Mexico City as a representative of the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF), which had been founded during World War I by activists in the United States and Europe. Part of Brinton’s mission was to solicit topics on U.S.-Latin American relations for study and discussion by the U.S. section of WILPF. To that end she met with several groups of women students in Mexico City, who provided her with what she called “irritating suggestions.” Their list of potential topics included Mexicans’ hatred of the United States, discriminatory attitudes toward Mexican students in the United States, and “appropriation by residents of the U.S. of the term ‘Americans, or North Americans.’” All U.S. Americans had an “irritating superiority attitude,” the students told Brinton. “Your manners in this country suggest that you feel yourselves above us, and make us conscious that the United States is a powerful nation. You ‘high hat’ everyone you meet. Naturally we do not like it.” They compared the segregation of Mexican students in the United States to that of African Americans, arguing it was done not with regard to “intelligence or language, but entirely as a matter of race.” Finally, they resented what they saw as misuse of a key term. “We are Americans as well,” the students informed Brinton. “You should call yourselves E---- U---- (using the Spanish equivalent of ‘United Statesians’).” When Brinton, bewildered, replied that there was no such word in English, “the serene answer was that we should get one.”¹

Brinton’s bewilderment and irritation—and the Mexican students’ frustration—capture the tensions between U.S. women’s internationalist ideals and Mexican women’s nationalist aspirations that lie at the heart of this book. Brinton and her colleagues in WILPF and in other U.S. organizations saw themselves as leaders of a globalizing women’s movement that originated in the United States and Europe but had reached most of Latin America only recently. They believed they had much to teach women throughout the Americas about their campaigns for international peace, women’s rights, and other causes. As Brinton’s attempt at information gathering suggests, they also believed they had something to learn from Latin American women. But Brinton’s irritation indicates she did not get the kinds of responses to her questions that she expected. The young women with whom she met demanded that Brinton recognize her own subject position as a “United Statesian,” and that she acknowledge the larger relationship between the United States and Mexico that framed this encounter between women of the two nations. They further demanded that Brinton confront her own implicit presumption that the United States was representative of all “America.” Like many U.S. women involved in activism across nations and cultures at this time, Brinton believed that her identity as a woman would allow her to forge bonds with women in Mexico and other Latin American countries. She assumed that even amid differences of race and nationality, gender would provide common ground on which all American women could build hemispheric connections. When the Mexican students continued to draw attention to her nationality, Brinton floundered.

What follows is an investigation of how women like Ellen Starr Brinton negotiated challenges to their internationalist ambitions like the ones posed by these Mexican students. Pan American Women examines U.S. women’s efforts to advance inter-American cooperation among women and to further hemispheric peace between the world wars. I focus on U.S. women’s work in Mexico, where diplomatic tensions and the ongoing Mexican Revolution heightened the significance of their enterprise. With different and sometimes competing agendas, groups like WILPF, the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), the League of Women Voters (LWV), and the Inter-American Commission of Women (IACW) tried to organize Mexican women and to influence U.S. foreign policy toward Mexico. They convened conferences, established in Mexico City new associations and new branches of existing ones, and rallied popular support in the United States for peaceful relations. On several occasions during the 1920s and 1930s they congratulated themselves on having propelled policy makers toward peace. They also grew more sophisticated in their methods, abandoning gendered arguments and appeals to womanhood in favor of more modern, politically savvy tactics.

But by the outbreak of World War II, many of their efforts among Mexican women had collapsed. Scarce resources and the growing threats in Europe and Asia contributed to this decline, but circumstantial explanations are insufficient. Even with their authority on the issues and their years of experience, U.S. women struggled to effect change in Mexico, to convince women living within a very different political and social context of the efficacy of U.S. methods and goals. The absence of a stable democracy in Mexico, for instance, gave women there a different perspective on suffrage and the significance of the vote. U.S. women’s appeals to peace and nonviolence, meanwhile, felt to some Mexican women like a thinly veiled directive to abandon their Revolution.

U.S. women internationalists overestimated the viability of their agendas in Mexico because they assumed their ideals were universal enough to apply readily. They often brushed aside or ignored input from Mexican women that reflected the specific issues and challenges they faced. At the very moment that U.S. women were seeking to engage Mexican women and incorporate them into international networks, Mexican women were trying to negotiate the social and political upheaval of the Mexican Revolution—a fiercely nationalist revolution fueled in part by a reaction against decades of exploitative U.S. economic and foreign policies. As a result, U.S. women found themselves in a difficult position as they tried to forge gendered bonds in Mexico. At the same time that these U.S. internationalists were looking beyond their own borders and promoting global cooperation, Mexican women were becoming politicized in ways that tied them more closely to their own nation. U.S. internationalists envisioned “worlds of women” beyond the borders of nation-states, and beyond the nationalism that they argued had led to a world war.² Mexican women saw in the Revolution an opportunity to claim their national citizenship in previously unavailable ways. For U.S. women, nationalism was an ethos to be overcome; for Mexican women it was an identity and a strategy to be embraced. To U.S. women, internationalism represented the path to a more peaceful and equitable future. To Mexican women, internationalist rhetoric often seemed like old patterns of U.S. hegemony in a new guise. Even as many U.S. women protested U.S. imperialism in Latin America, they replicated imperialist patterns in their own organizations. Even as they abandoned an idealized, “spiritual” internationalism in favor of more politically sophisticated approaches, they failed to adapt their movement to the particular needs of Mexican women. They grew skilled at using international platforms to advance their agendas, but still could not forge lasting bonds. These were the tensions that underlay Ellen Starr Brinton’s experience in Mexico City.

Defining Women’s Internationalism

Both in terms of their ideology and their activism, Brinton and her WILPF colleagues adhered to what I term “women’s internationalism.” This concept has received increasing attention from historians over the last twenty years, though not all of them label it as such. What began in the 1990s with historian Leila Rupp’s exploration of the communities and collective identities of the International Council of Women, the International Woman Suffrage Alliance (later the International Alliance of Women), and WILPF has grown slowly but surely into a field richly populated with studies of other organizations and other dimensions of the global interactions among women between the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.³ I will address the thorny question of “internationalism” before I attempt to define the concept as a whole. For Rupp’s subjects, internationalism was a “spirit rather than a formal ideology.” Words such as “feeling” and “force” conveyed “the almost mystical quality of internationalism as an imagined community.”⁴ The term also had particular significance in the early twentieth century apart from its practice by women. As an ideal for cooperation among nation-states and for the creation of supranational systems of law and governance, it drew followers even as the great powers expanded their empires and careened toward World War I. Internationalism found its ultimate expression in the ideology of U.S. President Woodrow Wilson, who envisioned the League of Nations (led by the United States) as the center of a just, peaceful world order.⁵ These visions of a world without war, characterized by the spread of democracy and human rights, significantly informed the ethos of women internationalists during this period.

I find most useful diplomatic historian Akira Iriye’s broad definition of internationalism as a “global consciousness,” the “idea that nations and peoples should cooperate instead of preoccupying themselves with their respective national interests or pursuing uncoordinated approaches to promote them.”⁶ Many of the women with whom I am concerned held this idea very dear; they argued that women had both an opportunity and a duty to take part in internationalist work. With one exception, the organizations to which they belonged are best characterized as nongovernmental organizations. These organizations began to emerge over the course of the nineteenth century, born from an awareness that “they shared certain interests and objectives across national boundaries” and “could best solve their many problems by pooling their resources and effecting transnational cooperation.”⁷ Beginning as early as the 1840s, educated women in the United States sought to participate in and began to form their own such organizations.

Not all scholars agree on the differences between “internationalism” and “transnationalism.” Historians of U.S. foreign relations, among others, have used the former to denote formal relations among nation-states, and the latter to describe the movement of people, goods, and ideas across national boundaries.⁸ Among women’s historians, by contrast, “internationalism” has generally been used to characterize activism across borders before 1945, and “transnationalism” to describe the period after World War II and especially since the 1970s. As historians Ellen Carol DuBois and Katie Oliviero have observed, “The distinction was meant to pose an opposition between the multiple, diverse, worldwide voices speaking on behalf of women’s needs and rights in our own era, and the allegedly hegemonic, falsely monolithic, Eurocentric leadership of an earlier period.” These and other scholars have challenged the rigidity of that distinction, arguing that the transnationalist feminism of the later twentieth century had important precursors that deserve to be labeled as such, but they acknowledge that differences remain between the organizations of the earlier period and the “less formal networks of interactions” of the later one.⁹

For my purposes, the term “internationalism” indicates the primacy of nationality and of the nation-state as foundational principles within a given organization, while “transnationalism” conveys the primacy of an organization’s subjects, objects, or goals and methods. Internationalist groups worked among nations; transnationalist groups worked across them. The division between the two categories is not absolute. It may shift depending on an analysis of an organization’s agenda versus its accomplishments. For example, in the 1930s the Inter-American Commission of Women took a transnationalist approach in its efforts to secure a hemispheric treaty protecting the legal nationality of women who married foreign-born men, a measure designed to protect women in all American countries. But structurally, the commission was composed of twenty-one women, one from each American nation, and it was created by the Pan American Union, an intergovernmental organization. Furthermore, legislation protecting married women’s nationality had to be secured by separate national governments. In these respects the composition of the commission was internationalist in nature. The history of women’s organizing across national boundaries suggests that the categories of internationalist and transnationalist are two points on a continuum rather than either-or definitions, but they are useful distinctions, not least when examining U.S. women’s intentions and accomplishments in Latin America.¹⁰ I refer in this book to “transnationalism” when appropriate, but I use “internationalism” to signal U.S. women’s inability to dissociate themselves—consciously or unconsciously—from their national identities and from their assumption of national superiority over Latin Americans.

For the women I study, internationalism was first and foremost a spirit and a practice of cooperation among women from different nations to advance common interests, especially peace. What then made this women’s internationalism? First, an assumption by its practitioners that their methods were gendered. Jane Addams, for instance, founder of the Hull-House settlement in Chicago and later president of WILPF, distinguished between what she saw as masculine realms of international diplomacy, characterized by formal, officially sanctioned exchanges among men, and the nongovernmental, less formal, interpersonal modes of exchange among women.¹¹ Women, Addams and her supporters argued, were suited by nature and habit to interact on a personal level. If cultivated properly, those personal exchanges could grow and flourish to a point at which shared experiences and shared knowledge of peoples and cultures across national boundaries could do as much to prevent war as any diplomatic treaty. Addams referred to this as “human internationalism,” to differentiate it from what she saw as impersonal, formal agreements and interactions among governments. Other proponents took this gendered argument one step further, claiming that motherhood endowed women with the authority to promote peace. At a women’s peace conference in 1915 U.S. suffragist Carrie Chapman Catt encouraged her audience to take up the internationalist banner: “O, my sisters, this, henceforth, is the especial task of the World’s Mothers…. It is for us to foster Internationalism, that promise of the civilization yet to come.”¹² According to Catt, and to other women alarmed by the outbreak of violence in Europe, women’s roles as mothers both authorized and obligated them to explore and endorse alternatives to war.

Second, I use “women’s internationalism” to denote cooperation across borders in the interest of advancing women’s status. Doris Stevens, the first chair of the Inter-American Commission of Women, did not share Addams’s and Catt’s belief that women’s nature as social beings or their experiences as mothers drove them to enact internationalism in gendered ways. During her tenure with the IACW, Stevens used whatever methods she could to advance her goals of securing hemispheric treaties on married women’s nationality and women’s equal rights. In some instances she cultivated personal relationships with women in ways that evoked Addams’s practices; in others she lobbied male diplomats and drafted legislation just as any nongovernmental agent or organization might do. But her goal, the function of her internationalism, was to recognize and to secure women’s rights on a global scale.¹³ This was a less idealistic, more sophisticated approach to internationalism, and its adherents were often younger and more politically shrewd in their methods. Clearly, there was significant potential for overlap between these two definitions of women’s internationalism, but they remained distinct approaches.

This is a history of internationalism, but it is not an internationalist history. Where other recent works have been concerned with the impact of internationalist ideas in other parts of the world, my primary focus is on U.S. women and their organizations.¹⁴ More specifically, I am interested in national organizations rather than regional ones. There were myriad charitable and service organizations begun along the U.S.-Mexico border in response to the influx of refugees after 1911, like the Pan American Round Table of San Antonio, Texas, but their agendas were local rather than hemispheric. I am also interested in secular groups rather than explicitly religious and missionary ones whose primary purpose was to proselytize. There were hundreds if not thousands of Protestant missionaries in Mexico during the Revolution, significant numbers of whom were women.¹⁵ But they did not see themselves as internationalists like Jane Addams or Doris Stevens, and their goal was to win converts, not to promote peace or advance women’s status.

Changing Dynamics

By the 1910s, international organizations and connections among women across national borders were well-established phenomena. As early as the 1830s, educated upper- and middle-class women in the United States and western Europe were exchanging letters and visits in which they discussed their common struggles for women’s rights, abolition, temperance, and other causes. These early networks laid the foundations for the organizations that developed by the 1880s.¹⁶ The International Council of Women, established in 1888, was the first organization dedicated to connecting women around the world. Other significant groups included the World Woman’s Christian Temperance Union and the International Woman Suffrage Alliance. All these groups grappled with questions about identity, mission, and representation. Whether dedicated to one cause or many, whether claiming to represent nonwhite, nonelite, or non-Western women or not, this “first wave” of women’s internationalism sharpened the desire of its participants to advance women’s status and to secure a more peaceful world.¹⁷

The outbreak of World War I lent a new urgency to their efforts. By 1915 the war had sparked a new wave of women’s internationalism, one that was more attuned to international relations and diplomacy, and more convinced of the connection between global peace and the status of women.¹⁸ In April 1915 more than one thousand women from every warring nation met at The Hague to discuss bringing an end not only to the current war but to all future wars. In her closing address to the congress, Jane Addams noted with awe and pride that at a time when the “spirit of internationalism had apparently broken down,” these women had come together “to protest from our hearts, … to study this complicated modern world, [and] to suggest ways by which this large internationalism may find itself and dig new channels through which it may flow.”¹⁹ All the participants believed that world peace could not be guaranteed without extending the parliamentary franchise to women, and that women had a responsibility to claim for themselves an active role in international relations. These beliefs were at the core of the organization founded at the congress, the International Committee of Women for Permanent Peace, later reconstituted as the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom.

The nature of women’s internationalism was shifting in other ways as well. In the nineteenth century, women reformers often saw themselves as embarking on a grand civilizing mission to spread “Western” culture and ideologies, particularly those centered on domesticity and female moral authority. The World Woman’s Christian Temperance Union sought to “liberate” women in China, India, Japan, and other regions by convincing them of their potential power within abstinent, Christian families and societies.²⁰ Generations of European and U.S. suffragists and feminists relied on and perpetuated assumptions of “Western” superiority and “Eastern” backwardness and savagery as they sought to establish their own moral authority and to argue for their own advancement.²¹ Manifestations of this discourse among women have been called “feminist orientalism” or “imperial feminism,” signifying the belief that “Western” goals and modes of activism—generally liberal, republican, individualist, and Protestant—were the standards by which to measure all feminisms and all women’s status.²² This literature articulates the ways in which U.S. women assumed their platforms were both superior and universal, and thus were sure to be embraced by Latin American, African, Asian, and Middle Eastern women. I am interested though in their internationalist platforms as well as their feminist ones. U.S. women believed their own methods for securing peace and global cooperation, as well as for securing women’s advancement, were superior to any others. Therefore I use the phrase “imperialist internationalism” in addition to “imperialist feminism” to refer to this dynamic.²³

In many ways, women like Jane Addams and those in WILPF had abandoned the most blatantly imperialistic forms of this rhetoric by 1915. These women internationalists saw themselves as citizens of a world community rather than as agents of Western civilization. They established for themselves an active and influential role in international politics by holding conferences and lobbying governments. WILPF, for instance, devoted much of its time in the late 1910s and early 1920s to urging the Allied powers to redesign the Versailles Treaty to include disarmament, and to pressuring the United States to join the World Court. Although their efforts were only moderately successful, they did earn the respect of government officials in many countries.²⁴

Elements of the orientalist ethos persisted, however. Organizations like WILPF that originated in Europe and in the “neo-Europes”—Australia, Canada, and the United States—not only struggled to include women of non-European descent in their ranks but they also persisted in viewing northern and western Europe and the United States as the “core” of their internationalist realms, and Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America as the “periphery.” Membership practices and organizational rhetoric further marginalized vast numbers of women. Annual conferences were held in Europe or occasionally in the United States, and proceedings were conducted only in French, German, or English. Leaders often spoke of their desire to “help” their oppressed “sisters,” many of whom were only beginning to “awaken” and realize their desire for “emancipation.”²⁵ As a result of this ongoing orientalism, nonwhite and non-Western women struggled to claim a place for themselves in many international women’s organizations and to have their experiences and concerns heard.²⁶ This was a legacy with which U.S. women wrestled throughout the 1920s and 1930s as they sought to build networks in Latin America. Ellen Starr Brinton’s resentment of the charge that all U.S. Americans were guilty of “high-hatting” Mexicans was merely one example among many of U.S. women’s struggles to comprehend Latin American accusations of arrogance and superiority.

In addition, disparities among women internationalists were growing. Though many U.S. women shared a desire to establish connections with women around the world and to enjoy peaceful international relations, they were not politically or ideologically homogenous. When it came to the issue of peace, for instance, some were political leftists who were opposed to all forms of war and wanted to see an immediate end to international conflict. Jane Addams and WILPF fit into this category. Others, including Carrie Chapman Catt and the League of Women Voters, were more moderate; they argued for gradual methods of eliminating war through international law. Some women did not oppose war at all on principle, but believed the need for it could be reduced by encouraging friendships between elite women of different countries. A group called the Pan American International Women’s Committee wanted to facilitate business among male diplomats and government officials by bringing their wives and daughters into closer contact. Given their close (though informal) relationship with the Pan American Union, the committee was also adamant about remaining “non-political.” This set them in marked contrast to groups such as WILPF and the LWV. Other differences among women internationalists centered on their methods. When a WILPF section sprang up in a new country, its members were encouraged to adopt a uniform set of policies and guidelines. The YWCA, by contrast, believed strongly in the need to adapt its program and approach depending on the needs of individual countries into which it was expanding. All of these groups were internationalist, but few of them agreed on the best way to achieve their goals—or on what those goals were in the first place.

The Western Hemisphere

Understanding the broader contexts within which Ellen Starr Brinton was working does not explain, however, why she was in Mexico. Many U.S. women internationalists took a new interest in Latin America during the early twentieth century. Since the 1820s, when the majority of Latin American countries won their independence from Spain, orators and politicians throughout the hemisphere had claimed that all the new American nations shared an identity distinct from that of the European powers they had rebelled against. Popularized in the 1880s, the term “Pan Americanism” conveyed that sense of unity and common interest. Framing commercial and strategic interests as common to all “Americans” dated back to the Monroe Doctrine of 1823, but it took on new significance after the outbreak of World War I, when it was mobilized as a rhetorical defense against potential German encroachment.²⁷ Whether explicitly or implicitly, many U.S. women internationalists saw in Pan Americanism an opportunity to reach out to Latin American women by capitalizing on these preexisting ties. Some groups incorporated the word into their names, such as the Pan American International Women’s Committee. In 1919 the U.S. section of WILPF established a Pan American Committee. In 1922 the LWV organized the Pan American Conference of Women. The term was a concise rhetorical way to encompass the hemisphere, but it also signaled a unity of purpose and a common identity among “Americans.”²⁸

But those professions of unity had long been contested. Critics of Pan Americanism, particularly Latin American opponents of U.S. foreign policies, charged that it was little more than rhetorical cover for U.S. dominance and exploitation. The early twentieth century represented the height of U.S. intervention in Central America and the Caribbean Basin. The legacy of the Monroe Doctrine and the Roosevelt Corollary established the Western Hemisphere as the domain of the United States in the minds of many U.S. Americans. While the former aimed to keep European powers out of the Western Hemisphere, the latter effectively sanctioned the policing of Latin American countries by the United States to maintain stability and foster democracy. President William Howard Taft’s policy of “Dollar Diplomacy” extended this idea by encouraging U.S. bankers to offer loans to foreign governments in exchange for U.S. control over infrastructure and public finances. Protecting these loans frequently necessitated armed intervention on the part of the U.S. government. By 1922, U.S. troops occupied all or part of Cuba, Puerto Rico, Panama, Nicaragua, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic. These interventions created widespread resentment in Latin America and inspired popular and political resistance.²⁹ Many women were among the anti-imperialists and pacifists within the United States who mounted campaigns against such actions. Thus even as they employed and drew on the rhetoric of Pan Americanism, some internationalists also critiqued it.

Inter-American cooperation among women held the potential both to move beyond the problems of Pan Americanism and to re-create them. In her analysis of the founding of the Inter-American Commission of Women, K. Lynn Stoner argued that “inter-American feminists shared motives and a spiritual basis for their alliance. They placed women’s issues above national interests, and they sought democratic relations among themselves, with men, and among nations.”³⁰ But it is important to understand the limits of that cooperation as well. U.S. women internationalists were immune neither to the arrogance of imperialist internationalism and feminism nor to the “culture of imperialism” that pervaded the country in the early twentieth century.³¹ WILPF, for example, protested Dollar Diplomacy and U.S. economic imperialism in Latin America vigorously during the 1920s, and yet did not question the validity of imposing its own programs and perspectives on Latin American women. Furthermore, like their European colleagues, few U.S. internationalists spoke the language of the women they targeted. Neither Ellen Starr Brinton nor most of her associates spoke Spanish, Portuguese, or any indigenous languages. Inter-American conferences located in the United States were generally conducted in English, and correspondence to and from Latin America frequently had to be translated.

The epitome of the imperial U.S. feminist and woman internationalist was Carrie Chapman Catt. Numerous scholars have pointed out that her tactics for exporting the women’s suffrage movement to Latin America closely resembled earlier efforts to “civilize” non-Western women.³² Latin American feminists from Puerto Rico to the Southern Cone reacted to Catt with frustration and indignation.³³ After analyzing Catt’s attitudes toward inter-American cooperation, for example, historian Christine Ehrick concluded that Catt “in no way considered a Pan American women’s movement as a union among equals, but as a means to ‘civilize’ this part of the world and improve the image of the United States at the same time. These attitudes on the part of many North American feminists and the increasingly nationalistic and anti-U.S. rhetoric emanating from many Latin American sectors during these years worked to create a wide gulf between many Latin American feminists and their counterparts in the United States.”³⁴ This was how imperialist feminism manifested itself in the inter-American context—as attempts by U.S. women to “help” Latin American women advance as they had, for instance by securing the vote, and to implement unilaterally their programs for peace and hemispheric cooperation, with little regard for or knowledge of either the cultural differences across the region or the extent of resentment toward the United States.

The potential for a “wide gulf” to emerge was only heightened in Mexico, which among Latin American countries had one of the longest-standing contentious relationships with the United States. Unlike the warring European nations cited by Jane Addams, the United States and Mexico had never shared a “spirit of internationalism.” The U.S.-Mexican War of 1846–1848, during which the U.S. army occupied Mexico City, and after which the United States forced Mexico to cede nearly half its land, left many Mexicans very bitter. Some cordial feeling was restored in the 1860s, when the United States helped Mexico evict the French, who had installed an emperor in Mexico City. Between 1876 and 1910, dictator Porfirio Díaz encouraged U.S. investments as part of his plans for economic modernization. U.S. funds helped build thousands of miles of railroads, provided electricity to the major cities, and developed extensive mining industries. A U.S. company first produced oil in Mexico in 1901. Over 10,000 barrels were produced that year; by 1910 the number was over 3.6 million.³⁵ This level of economic investment led to much more favorable relations between the two governments, but the vast majority of Mexicans suffered under political repression and sank deeper into poverty. By 1910, U.S. owners controlled 27 percent of Mexican land, and U.S. investments in Mexico totaled over $1 billion.³⁶

The volatile history of U.S.-Mexican relations intensified with the outbreak of the Mexican Revolution in 1910. Fueled in part by nationalist resistance to the economic domination of the United States, the Revolution represented for many Mexicans an opportunity for political and social change.³⁷ To U.S. policy makers, on the other hand, it signaled a challenge to decades of uncontested land acquisition and access to valuable natural resources, including copper, silver, iron, and oil. Concerned about the effects of successive short-term governments and the threat of potentially radical land reforms on U.S. property owners and investors—not to mention the danger of European, especially German, influence—Woodrow Wilson and his successors tried to influence the course of the Revolution by supporting or opposing various factions, and by ordering or threatening military intervention four times between 1914 and 1927.³⁸ The two countries severed diplomatic relations between 1920 and 1923 over the issue of Article 27 of the revolutionary 1917 Mexican Constitution, which declared all subsoil resources to be vested in the Mexican nation. One of the most dramatic but little known moments of crisis came in early 1927, when both countries seemed prepared to wage war over the implementation of Article 27. Following the peaceful resolution of that crisis, the United States and Mexico resumed some of their old Porfirian patterns in the late 1920s and early 1930s, as the United States again began to expand its financial holdings. But the revitalization of the Revolution under Mexican president Lázaro Cárdenas after 1935, which culminated in the nationalization of the oil industry in 1938, once again threatened the two countries’ relationship and the integrity of Franklin Roosevelt’s Good Neighbor Policy.

U.S. interference over the course of the 1910s and 1920s in a popular and ostensibly democratic revolution drew criticism from several quarters, but internationalist women in the United States were particularly concerned about its negative effects. Mexico was one of the most significant countries for U.S. women trying to create inter-American networks. Given its proximity and accessibility, it was a logical place to start, and its relationship to the United States demanded the attention particularly of U.S. women peace activists. Mexican women, for their part, began by the mid-1910s to organize and to develop a feminist consciousness. Many of them were eager to reach out to feminists in other parts of the world for solidarity and guidance.³⁹ Several U.S. and international organizations wanted to take advantage of this moment to establish contacts and extend their work in Mexico, but U.S. interventions hindered their efforts by provoking resentment in both countries. As a result women internationalists also devoted significant time during the interwar period to lobbying the U.S. government to modify its Mexican policy.

Mexico is integral, therefore, to understanding the nature of U.S. women’s internationalism during this period. Internationalist ideals, imperialist methods, revolutionary nationalist aspirations, and the contested rhetoric of Pan Americanism coalesced in the interactions between U.S. and Mexican women as they did nowhere else. The interplay between all of these factors was what made it impossible for U.S. women to realize their goals. In the end, their own assumptions of nationalist superiority forestalled their internationalist ambitions. But the ways in which they sought to negotiate these dynamics, and the varied approaches they took in Mexico, illuminate both the possibilities as well as the limitations of inter-American cooperation during this period.