We revere Henry Ford: the inventor of modern mass production; the man who put Americans on wheels; the stolid Midwesterner whose ingenuity, common sense and hard work built an empire. Yet this same man was a bundle of contradictions: a pacifist who built tanks and warplanes, and who unleashed frightful brutality against his own striking workers; a hardheaded tycoon who strove to restore a sentimental vision of small-town life. He was, in short, the quintessential American: a hero and a fool.
“Fordism” also became a beacon for the world. Lenin’s Russia, Hitler’s Germany and many poor countries looked to the magic of mass production – and the magic of automobiles – to catapult their way to prosperity. Still, it’s a little surprising that Greg Grandin wants to explain Henry Ford’s America by taking us up the Amazon, where an old-fashioned water tower rises out of the jungle, hinting at a lost utopia.
Grandin, author of “Ford-landia,” has rediscovered one of Ford’s most ambitious but least known ventures. In 1927, Ford obtained a Connecticut-size chunk of the Brazilian jungle. His immediate goal was to establish a rubber plantation to supply his factories’ insatiable demand for tires and gaskets, but he also saw an opportunity to bring Brazil the same blessings that he prided himself on bringing to his Michigan workers: good wages, plus the standards of middle-class propriety that spelled the difference between civilization and chaos.