Service Learning: Oil, International Education, and Texas’s Corporate Cold War

Service Learning: Oil, International Education, and Texas’s Corporate Cold War Abstract During the Cold War, oil and oilfield services companies recruited international students to study engineering and business in Houston. Oilfield services executives used education to present their new global corporate reach as benevolent and nonthreatening for both American workers and citizens of oil-rich nations in a moment of post-colonial upheaval. In 1956, Texas oilman R. E. Smith invited forty graduate students from Latin America to a barbecue at his ranch. With four hundred pounds of beef and three hundred ears of corn on offer, Smith hoped to show these student visitors some Texas hospitality. According to a Business Week journalist covering the event, Smith’s barbecue helped students gain a sense of “how we do things here in Texas” and an “introduction, in their host, to the breed of businessman that has made the state famous.”1 As the students left the ranch for the U.S. universities where they would spend the next academic year, they departed “with the Texas booster gospel still resounding in their ears …to find out whether the rest of the U.S. can live up to Texas.” But the students found more than a sense of the state’s storied can-do spirit. Especially those studying petroleum engineering, the article noted, “may also have carried away from the Smith ranch some valuable hints for their studies.”2 This barbecue-cooking businessman was a Cold War diplomat, just as much as Satchmo was during his jazz tours of Europe.3 At his ranch, Smith sang the gospel of the free world and free enterprise just as other Cold War culture warriors did. But Smith’s message was also a bit different. Other Cold Warriors tended to emphasize what capitalist development could produce for its adherents to purchase, a consumer-based vision perhaps best articulated in Vice President Nixon’s Kitchen Debate with Soviet Premier Nikita Krushchev in 1959. Cold War technocrats argued that accepting expertise from American advisors would spur modernization and bring with it consumer prosperity.4 Smith, on the other hand, was first and foremost a businessman. For Smith and his fellow oil-rich Texans, technological expertise itself was American capitalism’s primary product. The Latin American students who visited his ranch were not hearts and minds to be won but future employees of Texas-based oil companies that increasingly extracted and refined oil overseas. Smith’s barbecue was a small piece of a larger postwar project, as oilmen and universities combined forces to bring international students to Texas to learn how to produce petroleum back home. The students journeyed from a range of nations in the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and Latin America, and enrolled in undergraduate and graduate programs in engineering, management, and the earth sciences. Oil companies headquartered in Texas often financed their studies with scholarships. Through partnerships among state agencies, corporations, nonprofit organizations, and universities, students arrived in Houston to study to become managers, technicians, and engineers on oilfields across the world. Their corporate benefactors hoped that they would venture back home to work loyally for and with Houston-based companies to develop their nations’ oil wealth. Oil companies opted to support international education because their industry was in flux. During the Cold War, many oil-rich nations in the global South secured independence from their former colonizers, and often the process of decolonization also involved nationalizing oil fields.5 Decolonization and oilfield nationalization threatened the economic hegemony of U.S.- and European-based multinational oil companies, which struggled to respond to the new geopolitical climate. Led by a cohort of Houston-based companies that focused on selling oilfield services—technological expertise and management consulting—rather than oil itself, the oil industry eventually responded by restructuring its economic model. Shifting from its historical focus on the production, refining, and selling of the commodity of oil, the U.S.-based oil industry sought instead to establish itself as the global headquarters of oil expertise. U.S. companies began to market and sell their expertise in oil production on oilfields—even nationalized ones—the world over. Especially for Houston-based oilfield services companies like Halliburton, Brown & Root, and Schlumberger, this economic strategy of selling services ensured that U.S.-based companies retained a powerful position in the industry even without controlling the extraction and refining of oil itself. Scholars have written at length about cultural diplomacy during the Cold War, including the role of international students and international educational exchange as a form of American soft power.6 Historians have charted how the state and private organizations founded, supported, and sought to influence a range of international education programs, addressing U.S. involvement in elementary, secondary, and higher education programs overseas; international students studying in the United States; and American students studying abroad.7 Less has been written, however, about the role of corporations, whether they worked alongside or at odds with the U.S. state.8 When scholars engage the business side of international education, they have focused on education’s public relations impact: in other words, how businesses have encouraged university development abroad or exchange programs to inspire goodwill between corporations and the populations in which they did business.9 Oilfield services companies, however, saw the good public relations flowing from international education as a peripheral benefit. Through international education programs, oilfield services firms trained some students as future employees and built lasting business partnerships with others. At the same time, oilfield services companies’ engagement with international education was a way to normalize the international relationships that the booming oilfield services industry dictated. Offering American expertise to the world had been a key component of American foreign policy far earlier than World War II and President Truman’s Point Four Plan. As historian Emily Rosenberg has shown, “dollar diplomacy” in the early twentieth century also relied on employing U.S. financial expertise as a foreign relations strategy.10 And historian David Ekbladh has argued that U.S.-led modernization—“a conscious set of policies to promote improvement and progress” abroad—did not begin after World War II but “crystallized” into a coherent consensus in the 1930s.11 But Texas-based oil firms who sponsored international students diverged from these visions of developmentalism. Modernization and dollar diplomacy had imagined a world ready to accept American consumer goods via state-developed infrastructure, higher worldwide standards of living, and the formation of modern identities. Texas oilfield services firms, on the other hand, did not traffic in American exports; they sold expertise itself, monetizing the very knowledge that promised to make the world modern. As trade liberalization “[did] away with the postwar restrictions on international capital flows,” oilfield services firms would continue to market their expertise through the end of the twentieth century and into the twenty-first.12 Ultimately, while the “consensus on modernization that had been cultivated by the United States” would be “shattered” in the 1970s, oilfield services firms would continue strong, representing continuity between the American Century and the post-1970s era rather than rupture.13 This essay examines the role of Texas-based—and, in particular, Houston-based—oil and oilfield services firms in sponsoring international education in Texas during the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. As a city with a peculiar relationship with the global oil industry, Houston is hardly a representative case study from which we can draw generalized conclusions about the relationships among American cities, corporate agendas, and international education. However, because of its special status, examining Houston more closely can illustrate how one industry exploited its local ties with transnational implications. This essay, in part, answers historian Patty Limerick’s call for scholarship that interrogates “how the West’s varying acceptance of and resistance to the production of oil, coal, and natural gas has shaped the attitudes of its residents and of their elected officials towards the United States’ relations’ with oil-producing countries.”14 In other words, shifting our focus to local centers of global power can yield different narratives of American internationalism and transnational capitalism. The union between oil and international education served to promote a particular global political economy: one in which corporations operated transnationally, with U.S.-headquartered executives managing the operations of workers spread across the globe. This example suggests that the ways in which corporate interests used state priorities to their own advantage during the Cold War helped to erect both the cultural and material scaffolding upon which the post-industrial U.S. economy would be constructed. FROM OIL TO OILFIELD SERVICES In the 1950s, the U.S. oil industry was in transition. Domestic and international demand for petroleum was skyrocketing, driven in part by suburbanization and industrial growth. However, domestic production was in decline.15 At the same time, oilfield nationalizations and postcolonial upheavals were upsetting the long-standing U.S. and European hegemony in the international oil industry.16 U.S.-based oil companies, then, faced a dual challenge: they were required to operate more internationally since U.S. production was in decline, but they had less control over international oil than ever before. In this context, some oil magnates found new ways to capitalize on the global extraction of oil without owning the oilfields themselves. The leading innovators in the industry were oilfield services companies. During the first half of the twentieth century, companies including Halliburton, Brown & Root, Hughes Tool, and Baker Oil Tools opened factories in Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana. In these early years, they manufactured oil tools, such as drilling bits, or sold oilfield processes, such as Halliburton’s use of cement to control gas wells and eliminate water from oil wells, to large and small oil companies seeking to cash in on the Texas boom. By midcentury, however, their aims were changing. Whereas their business models had been based on producing tools for domestic drilling before the war, during and after the war they began exporting oilfield tools to drilling sites abroad and, more importantly, consulting with and managing logistical operations for international drilling projects run by American and non-American companies and governments. The emerging field of oilfield logistics relied on American expert consultants, a give-and-take of export and import shipping, federal subsidization of international development projects, and American executives who did not mind that oil extraction—and, increasingly, refining—was more often being done abroad than on U.S. soil.17 Unlike the Seven Sisters, the major oil corporations based in the United States and Western Europe which dominated the global oil industry until the mid-1970s, oilfield equipment and services companies did not draw profits that depended on their control of oil reserves.18 Instead, they traveled to the oilfield, wherever it was located, selling their expertise and services rather than a concrete product. By the 1970s, more major multinational oil companies followed the way that had been paved by oilfield services firms: as U.S.-based firms lost control of international oil fields, and as domestic drilling decreased, companies large and small began to rely on selling their services to turn a profit. During the 1950s, oilfield services companies conducted a bustling international business. In 1954, for instance, Brown & Root was awarded a contract to design and construct Tia Juana No. 1, a Venezuelan conservation plant operated by the American-owned Creole Petroleum Corporation.19 The compressor plant at Lake Maracaibo was designed to gather the gas that was produced as a byproduct of the production of petroleum. Without the plant, “[w]hen … petroleum flows from its site in the reservoir to the bottom of a well and then up the tubing of the well to the surface, the pressure gradually decreases,” thereby “permit[ting] the lighter hydrocarbon fractions to change to gaseous form and in consequence the stream that leaves the well head is a mixture of liquid petroleum with bubbles of gas.”20 In the production process, petroleum was separated from the gas, and the petroleum was sent to a refinery. Most of the gas was lost “due to the difficulty that exists in transporting it to large industrial centers.” Seventy-seven percent of gas produced was lost to the atmosphere rather than being used as fuel. The compressor plant gathered this formerly lost gas, either to produce as fuel or to use to inject reservoirs that were underperforming. Creole hired an outside firm to build the plant because the company’s specialized services helped maximize profits. Creole hired Brown & Root specifically because of the pre-existing relationship between the two American companies.21 But even from the vantage point of 1954, this way of business seemed to be in danger as former colonies declared independence. And, indeed, two decades later, in 1976, the Venezuelan government nationalized the assets of all U.S.-based oil concerns, including Creole.22 While companies like Creole would be forced to leave Venezuela, Brown & Root would have a different fate—because of the strategies it and other oilfield services companies began to pioneer in the 1950s. Oilfield services companies did business by seeking to convince their clients that their economic power was safe; they sought not to control natural resources, after all, but merely to offer their hard-won expertise to best develop others’ resources. Throughout the postwar years, as nations nationalized oilfields and began ejecting U.S.-based companies from their oilfields, U.S.-based oilfield services companies like Brown & Root remained and quickly secured new contracts. Oilfield services firm Sperry-Sun, for instance, “negotiate[d] a fee in return for continued technological support” directly with the Venezuelan government in the wake of nationalization. Ironically, nationalization freed multinational companies to become free agents, unmoored from the restrictions of vertical integration in an era in which flexible business models were becoming more profitable.23 Oilfield services companies positioned themselves as apolitical service providers serving clients, and promoting international education was a key part of that overall mission. Long before Venezuela liquidated Creole’s assets, Brown & Root had begun seeking links between Venezuelan students and Houston universities. In 1954, George Brown, Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Rice University and president of Brown & Root, wrote to Guillermo Zuloaga, a member of Creole’s Board of Directors, with a suggestion: “I am asking Dr. Craig at the Rice Institute Library to send you a complete set of Rice catalogues for the university about which we talked,” he wrote; “I am also sending you a Rice brochure and a clipping on our new venture of getting more roots in the ground by enlarging our board. I talked with Dr. Houston about my conversation with you and told him I thought Venezuela was a good field for us to get some top students.”24 For Brown, then, recruiting international students would be good for U.S. oilmen in Venezuela and for Houston’s Rice University. Brown was not alone. During the 1950s and 1960s, bringing international students to study in the United States drew popular support in Houston as part of a Cold War program of cultural diplomacy, and the city’s oil industry quickly became one of the movement’s primary funders in Houston. Drawing in part from their experiences in places like Venezuela, oil and oilfield services companies began looking for ways to encourage international education in Texas. Oil executives relied on an existing institutional scaffolding to support their project to promote international education in Houston. The Houston office of the Institute of International Education (IIE) became oil companies’ key collaborator. Founded in 1919 by Columbia University President Nicholas Murray Butler, former Secretary of State Elihu Root, and College of the City of New York professor Stephen Duggan, Sr., the national Institute was headquartered in New York City. The organization began as a nonprofit independent from the U.S. government and devoted to encouraging international interaction in the purportedly isolationist period after World War I.25 With a mission to “creat[e] better understanding among the peoples of the world through educational exchanges,” the IIE administered scholarship programs from private organizations and the U.S. government. Among the most important programs the IIE administered was the Fulbright Program beginning in 1946. By 1953, the IIE had handled 16,000 scholarships for international students to visit the United States and for U.S. students to study abroad. The organization also hosted international political leaders and speakers traveling to the United States to give lectures. The national headquarters of the IIE drew financial support from the Carnegie Corporation, the Rockefeller Foundation, the Ford Foundation, Radio Corporation of America (RCA), Standard Oil, and hundreds of other individuals and corporations.26 Until the 1950s, IIE had only a single office in New York. In 1951, the Ford Foundation granted the organization funding to establish regional offices in hopes that local branches could help visiting students “get a full view of American family and community life.” This effort was part of a larger Cold War attempt to win the hearts and minds of residents of the so-called “Third World,” employing a wide range of cultural diplomacy programs to promote what became dubbed “the American way of life.”27 The local offices enjoyed autonomy from the national headquarters, administering scholarships for regional corporations on their own and hosting their own slate of programs. From its establishment, the Southern Regional Office of the IIE, headquartered in Houston, was deeply entwined with the oil industry. Oil magnate L. F. McCollum founded the Houston office in 1952. McCollum, who worked for Humble Oil & Refining before becoming president of Continental Oil later in his career, became the first chairman of the Southern Regional Board of the IIE. Jesse Jones, banker and real estate magnate, former head of the New Deal’s Reconstruction Finance Corporation, and booster of the Houston oil industry, was a key promoter of the IIE, using his contacts in the federal government to garner support and secure high-profile speakers.28 And John de Menil, the head of the Houston-based oilfield services company Schlumberger, was the Chairman of the Southern Regional Advisory Board.29 Oilfield services firms Brown & Root, Baker Oil Tools, and Hughes Tool were also IIE supporters and contributed financially to the Houston office’s programs.30 De Menil even loaned pieces from his extensive private art collection to the IIE offices.31 In Houston, the IIE focused on fundraisers, meet-and-greets, and community events designed to encourage personal exchanges between Houstonians and international students in addition to administering scholarship funds.32 The IIE served as the “international arm” of Houston, providing the logistics for ceremonies, international visits, and “other courtesies when international VIPs fly in for visits.”33 “Individuals and organizations… call on IIE for help in setting up business appointments, seminars, tours, sightseeing, and the kind of hospitality that leaves international visitors with warm memories and a first hand [sic] knowledge of Houston,” one Houston journalist explained.34 In the Southwest, the IIE was responsible for “plac[ing] and select[ing] international students for 20 educational institutions in Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas,” as well as helping Southwestern students to pursue international study. The IIE hosted important international visitors and connected them with American citizens and institutions. Moreover, the IIE ran hospitality and educational programs to introduce international students to American life.35 The IIE described its duties in the Southwest this way: “Through an information and counseling service available to the public, the Institute annually aids thousands of persons interested in various aspects of international education … Typical questions range from ‘Can you furnish a list of Iraq's chemical engineers who have been trained in the United States?’ to ‘I am a Korean student. Is it possible for me to receive a scholarship to study dentistry in the United States?’”36 White women were overwhelmingly the architects of this program of hometown diplomacy. Alice Reynolds Pratt was Houston’s IIE Regional Director for almost two decades. Under her guidance, a staff of women made sure international visitors to the city were comfortable and cared for. In the IIE office, women staffers would receive calls alerting them to a scheduled visit, which they would then arrange. One journalist painted the picture this way: “A typical day for IIE’s foreign leader department began recently with a telephone call from the Governmental Affairs Institute in Washington D.C., letting them know that a Peruvian general would arrive in Houston the following Sunday for a three-day visit. Later, IIE’s assistant director, Martha Mewhirter, a linguist formerly in the foreign service, took another call from Washington telling her that the foreign minister of Rwanda would arrive the day after the Peruvian.”37 Members of twenty-five local women’s groups collaborated to develop programs to support the IIE.38 Figure 1: View largeDownload slide International students at the Houston World Trade Center. Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). Courtesy of Port of Houston Authority. Figure 1: View largeDownload slide International students at the Houston World Trade Center. Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). Courtesy of Port of Houston Authority. IIE officials saw international education as an important component of U.S. foreign policy, a way for the nation to win the Cold War. And women’s work—especially hospitality and entertaining—were a crucial component of the city’s diplomacy. In fact, this diplomacy was a Cold War responsibility. When Houstonian Oveta Culp Hobby, who served as the U.S. Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare until 1955, delivered the introductory remarks at the IIE’s third annual Southwest International Exchange Dinner in 1955, she made this point quite clear.39 “Before World War II, Chinese and Japanese students came to our colleges and universities by the hundreds—and returned to their shores without ever setting foot in an American home,” Hobby warned. “One such Chinese student mentioned this fact in quiet bitterness—speaking from his present position as a Chinese Communist, one who helped lead his country away from its alliance with America and into its dangerous alliance with Russia.”40 If only family were capacious enough, it could solve international problems: “I am afraid we cannot allow every foreigner to take home an American girl as his bride—happy solution to our international crises though this might prove to be.”41 In praise for her hard work, Hobby was told that “The visit in [her] home Saturday morning was the high point of the Houston stay of Mr. Arlindo Jose Pasqualini of Brazil.”42 At the IIE staffers’ urging, over one hundred Houstonians volunteered for an escort committee, accompanying visitors to appointments or offering tours of the city.43 “The IIE voice on the telephone is familiar to many Houstonians,” the magazine noted, calling up residents to ask them “Would you like to have a banker from Ecuador as your dinner guest on Tuesday?”44 If Houstonians were reluctant to help, the IIE explained their patriotic duty to host international guests: “Exchange programs are in the American tradition of the individual rather than the mass approach to problems, of giving to individuals the opportunity to develop their abilities to the fullest as the surest way of promoting the general welfare.”45 In the first six months of 1970, IIE served almost five hundred international visitors from all over the world, and in that year, the IIE hosted 290 international scholarship students in the Southwest.46 But the IIE staff also recognized that the organization’s relationship with business was hardly incidental. International visitors were attracted to Houston, Port of Houston magazine argued, by the “‘know-how’ in business and industry that has made Houston’s economic well-being famous around the world.”47 For instance, visitors from the Japan Productivity Center met with corporate representatives from companies including Shell to discuss “new approaches in coping with the worldwide problems of air and water pollution.”48 And in 1955, the German White Collar Union Leaders visited Houston to study labor conditions in the region.49 Hobby put the role of business in international education clearly into words: “Clearly the spear-head of this movement should be American businessmen and industrialists. Our great corporations have offices in cities and towns around the earth. Ideally, each corporation should train its employees for their diplomatic role before sending them to a foreign station.”50 The IIE also offered services to businesses operating internationally. “Of special value to business men is a roster IIE maintains of ‘internationally trained persons,’” Port of Houston magazine noted. This roster listed the 450,000 Houston residents “who have recently studied, taught, done research, or trained in countries other than their own.” Businesses could “use this roster in hiring personnel for international jobs.”51 The Creole Petroleum Corporation used this roster.52 In return, businesses helped support the IIE. As Pratt put it, “The willingness of business executives to conduct seminars, to take time to confer with visitors, to cooperate in every way from providing company limousines to hosting formal dinners—these are the things that make Houston one of the most popular places in the world for foreign visitors.”53 The connection between business and international education was made even clearer by a question posed in one University of Houston report: “In a city with extensive foreign trade and investment interests, in a country so involved in international events, in a world grown small by communications technology, how much should University of Houston students learn about other peoples and lands?”54 By the late 1950s, almost 1,500 international students were studying in Texas, placing Texas in the top ten states in numbers of visiting students. Students studied at a range of colleges, public and private, religious and secular, including Baylor University, Rice University, Southern Methodist University (SMU), Texas A&M, and the University of Texas in Austin.55 Students came from a wide range of countries, including Canada, China, Korea, India, Japan, the Philippines, Mexico, Iran, Greece, and Colombia.56 International students were firmly established on Texas’s college campuses, and international education was a familiar item of discussion in the state’s corporate boardrooms as well. EDUCATIONAL BENEFITS Promoting international education benefited the oil and oilfield services industry in many ways—not only because it gave them access to potential employees. Bringing international students to study in Texas universities reinforced the idea that the United States was the center of training and expertise, serving an integrated global economy rather than controlling that economy. The role of the United States as a technical advisor to the rest of the world—and the importance of this element of their education—was very clear to the students in Texas. P. Kurian Eapen, an Indian nuclear physics student, remarked, “We would not have dreamt of the equipment they have here in India. In India if this type of equipment needs adjusting there would be no one available and we would have to send for someone from Germany or the United States. Here in Dallas you have technicians on hand.”57 However, universities and executives alike hoped that students would return home to their native countries when they were finished with study in the United States. In 1968, SMU’s student newspaper proclaimed, “The 35 foreign students visiting Southern Methodist University during their Christmas holidays Sunday were living proof that the ‘brain drain’ theory may be going out of date. They said the popular notion that foreign students usually stay in the United States is false—at least as far as they’re concerned.” In addition to its Cold War message of free enterprise over communism, international education trained students in American business practices and techniques. SMU made a point to emphasize global trade among the international students. “In studying world trade problems, the students are guided by a trained faculty,” a Dallas journalist explained, in addition to “draw[ing] on the accumulated knowledge of many experienced men,” including “[e]xperts from the foreign department of Dallas banks, shipping firms, insurance companies and exporters and importers” who met with the students routinely.58 Here, too, trade and economic growth were the primary messages. Anuradha Ghandi, a student from India, remarked, “The major problem discussed in the seminars is economic development—everything else falls in line.”59 The influence of oil helped to determine both where the city’s international students came from and what they studied. In the 1958 academic year, SMU had 141 foreign students, 118 of them men. Almost seventy percent of the students studied law, engineering, and business.60 The University of Houston hosted ninety-two students from Africa and 154 from Europe, but 404 from Latin America, 563 from the Middle East, and 695 from East, South, and Southeast Asia.61 Among the most popular majors were business administration and engineering.62 And these numbers were rapidly increasing. Between fall 1968 and fall 1974, the international student population at University of Houston increased 137.3%, as compared with a 13.7% increase in overall student enrollment.63 Even more surprising was the timing of this upsurge. In the mid-1960s, private philanthropies were withdrawing funding for international education, and President Johnson failed to secure funding for his International Education Act, passed in 1966. International education proponents complained that “everyone with money [was] giving it to domestic problems” stemming from rebellions in American cities, while Johnson feared that his commitment to programs like international education was endangered by the spiraling costs of the war in Vietnam. At this precise moment, however, Texas oil companies were expanding their efforts to sponsor international students.64 This expansion of international education efforts while federal and philanthropic initiatives waned suggested the differences between the goals of Texas oil companies and those of other international education sponsors. First, Texas oil companies’ efforts to educate international students intersected with the aims of nationalists in oil-rich nations, where movement leaders often called for training non-American engineers and managers as a political goal.65As political scientist Robert Vitalis points out, this vision of nationalization became widespread in the late 1960s and early 1970s, following Saudi Arabian oil minister Abdallah Tariki’s 1963 demand for the end of Western control of the country’s oil industry. “A decade later his radical principle had become the new norm in the industry,” Vitalis explains, “and what would distinguish so-called radicals from moderates would be by what means—through decree or negotiations—and over what period of time the oil-producing states would take over the assets of the companies.”66 Texas-based companies invested in services were not the first to consider training as a response to these demands. Oil companies around the world promoted their commitment to local uplift by promising to prepare locals for management positions. As one retired ARAMCO executive put it, the company was dedicated to training “Saudis as quickly and as soundly as possible to operate the Saudi oil industry,” though Vitalis has found that this claim was not backed up by the institution of concrete programs, either in-house or through educational exchanges.67 While other oil companies had historically paid lip service to training programs, Texas-based oil companies in the 1960s and 1970s invested in education wholeheartedly because, for the first time, doing so directly benefitted their bottom lines. As Texas invested in selling services, training locals to work in the oil industry represented less of a threat. No longer did a trained local workforce represent the inevitability of oilfield nationalization; rather, as transnational providers of services, Texas firms would retain corporate control even while hiring locals to work under white American bosses overseas. Oddly, the objectives of nationalists and the objectives of Texas firms intersected at the point of technical education. Moreover, these scholarships marked a different approach to international education than business had developed in the past. The IIE explained that corporate sponsors usually provided programs in one of three categories: “employee development, employee relations, and community relations.” Established companies tended to offer scholarships to reward their loyal employees by offering access to a college education to their children. Other companies opted to offer education to students in the country where they operated so that they could garner support from the local public. But “the largest number provide education or technical training for employees and young trainees.” And “prominent among these employee development projects are several funded by petroleum companies active in Libya.” By 1976, employee development programs for Libyan students sponsored 178 students. The IIE’s 1974 annual report put it clearly: “IIE administered programs for 26 corporations and corporate foundations in 1974. These included a large group of professional development programs, many of which trained employees of overseas corporations in petroleum-related fields.”68 In other words, international university education represented not corporate philanthropy or a job benefit, but a means of job training. The historical literature has most often viewed international education through the lens of cultural diplomacy, as a means by which private foundations, religious organizations, and the state have sought to shape international attitudes toward Americans and the United States. As historian Justin Hart explains, public diplomacy, including educational partnerships, represented a promising option for American foreign relations. Through education, the state could further its mission of “[c]onverting people to an ‘American’ way of life,” which “held the promise of extending the influence of the United States while avoiding costly, atavistic exercises in military conquest. Simply put, Americanization became the antidote to colonization.”69 Within this framework, historian Liping Bu notes that, for a range of proponents of international education, “education was used as a vital channel to train the ‘future leaders of the world’ with American values and ideals … Knowledge—science, technology, and American know-how—empower[ed] American prestige as a modern and advanced nation applicable as a model for other nations in their aspirations for success.”70 Like the private philanthropies and federal programs that Bu studies, Texas oil companies invested in international education to boost “American prestige” in science, technology, and know-how. But their aim was not to provide a model that other nations might emulate. Instead, this strategy was a business plan to capture a specific market share, to present American expertise not as a model but as a product, an export. In this way, they worked in tandem with the official state mission of “mak[ing] the world understand the United States,” but their larger goal—the promotion of American companies as service providers to clients the world over—was not shared with the state. And, indeed, their mission to capture market share would prove much more successful, and less politically fraught, than the U.S. government’s efforts to “project favorable images of the United States” to the world.71 Indeed, oil and oilfield services companies’ financial support was often directly targeted towards groups they needed to train to work on their own international operations. In 1963, for instance, American Overseas Petroleum Ltd. sponsored fifteen men and one woman from Indonesia, Turkey, and Libya to study business administration, geology, geophysics, and petroleum engineering in the U.S. International Petroleum Company, Ltd. sponsored three Venezuelan students to study electrical engineering, international relations, and literature in 1964. Oasis Oil Company offered ten scholarships to Libyan students in 1966. In 1967, with the help of IIE, four Libyans visited Texas to conduct an “extensive study of …oil field operations.” The IIE also discussed with Peru’s state oil company how to “develop a program of technical and professional training in U.S. institutions” for their employees. In 1973, the IIE partnered with the Korean Ministry of Commerce and Industry to bring ten Korean public officials to the University of Texas, where they received “managerial and technical training in the petroleum industry.” In 1974, Tenneco Thailand Inc. sponsored scholarships for four Thai students to earn graduate degrees in the earth sciences. Among the 1974 IIE visitors to Houston were “ten representatives of the Oil and Gas Ministry of the U.S.S.R.” AMOCO International Oil Company sent students from Thai, Trinidad and Tobago to petroleum-related courses of study. Some of these students were employees of the company. ESSO Standard Libya’s employee development program sent fourteen students to study engineering, geology, and business administration through the IIE. Occidental Petroleum Corporation sent one Nigerian and one Peruvian student to study petroleum engineering in the United States and funded three students from Trinidad and Tobago to study petroleum engineering at the undergraduate level. Occidental Petroleum Corporation of Libya used the IIE to administer their trainee and employee development program. Phillips Petroleum Caribbean sent two students from Trinidad and Tobago to study petroleum engineering. By 1976, twenty-seven corporate sponsors provided scholarships to 441 international students. Sponsors included Tenneco, Exxon, Amoco, and Phillips.72 Petroleum-related businesses, then, marked a different approach to international education: using the university as a training ground for new employees. This use of international education was remarkable, too, because it signaled a new financing strategy for employee training. Partnerships with universities allowed corporations to write off their own training costs. A degree in petroleum engineering replaced on-the-job training, effectively outsourcing the private responsibility of job training to public institutions while purporting to promote a form of corporate benevolence. At the same time, encouraging international education often met foreign governments’ demands that oil companies hire residents of the nations in which they operated—and maintained control over the training students received while saving the company money.73 Not only was the oil industry’s relationship with the university profitable for corporations; it could prove beneficial to universities as well. President Hoffman of the University of Houston (UH) illustrated these transformations. Hoffman was appointed by President Johnson to represent the federal government at a Trade Fair in Algeria in June 1964, with the theme “Education for Progress.”74 USAID had previously invited Hoffman, a veteran of U.S.-sponsored international exchange programs, to contract with Peru to “provide technical assistance in establishing a Graduate School of Business Administration at Lima.” USAID hoped that this program would “make a major contribution to Peru by providing an expanded manpower base for new and existing industries.” UH already provided technical advice and professional assistance to Ecuador to build a Department of Chemical Engineering at the University of Guayaquil, as well as with the Universidad del Valle in Cali, Colombia and the Universidad do Brasil in Rio de Janeiro.75 In his trip to Algeria, Hoffman clearly saw how American expertise, American business, and the university went hand in hand: “The purpose of the United States participation in this fair is twofold: we want to demonstrate our interest in the Algerians’ problems, while illustrating that we have the capacity to answer these problems and we want to promote trade … . With the revolution and the exodus of French technicians, a critical need developed for Algerians trained in skills as humble as typing to say nothing of business management or industrial production. Unemployment is critical, with a volatile segment of the population idling on street corners, and this population is young.”76 In other words, American experts were needed to replace the French, yet these experts were tasked with not seeming imperial. The political economy of the Cold War helped to dramatically transform American universities. For the first time, vast sums of federal money were available to researchers, particularly in the sciences but also in the social sciences. And the state was not alone in bankrolling research. Even before the Cold War began, corporations and private foundations offered contributions to support research in the sciences and social sciences, and these nontraditional revenue streams reshaped academic hierarchies and gave new priority to the sciences. Moreover, universities leveraged new funding into status, a process which also changed the relationship of the university to the nation at large.77 Given this context, Hoffman might easily have been interpreted in Algeria as a representative of the state, a Cold Warrior sent to communicate American foreign policy objectives. But Hoffman avoided the appearance of being a government puppet—and dodged accusations of cultural imperialism—through his relationship with Houston oil. UH had two Algerian students when Hoffman departed Houston for the fair. Both had received IIE scholarships to study petroleum engineering in Houston.78 Ahmed Amari was a former primary school teacher who had earned a bachelor’s degree in Algeria and was studying to earn a master’s in petroleum engineering in Houston in hopes of becoming a government employee back home. Mohammed Tourane was the son of a farmer hoping to use his master’s in petroleum engineering to enter private industry.79 But Algerians knew of another more famous UH alum: Rachid Bestani, an Algerian graduate of UH with an master’s in chemistry. Bestani had returned to Algeria to work as an engineer at the Société de la Raffinerie D’Alger, Africa’s second-largest refinery. Bestani took Hoffman on a tour of the refinery, where 70 percent of the 250 employees were Algerian. Bestani, as an engineer, was the highest-ranked Algerian staff member. Hoffman noted, “U. of H. is very big here because this refinery is most important development in Algiers and he is key figure and highly respected.”80 Figure 2: View largeDownload slide Dr. Hoffman with UH alumnus Rachid Bestani. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (folder 9, box 60, President’s Office Collection). Figure 2: View largeDownload slide Dr. Hoffman with UH alumnus Rachid Bestani. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (folder 9, box 60, President’s Office Collection). The University of Algiers saw the promise of American education as well. “In keeping with our policy of training the necessary personnel, we [the University of Algiers] have used all of the means at our disposal, and mobilized all of the energies to raise the technical level. Consonant with the path that the Algerian people have chosen, we have sent young Algerians for training to all countries that have wished to help us.”81 In other words, American education at institutions like UH was not a threat to Algerian independence but a boon. At a hospital luncheon in Hoffman’s honor, assembled Algerians wrote in English on a large blackboard “IN THE HOPE THAT PROFESSOR HOFFMAN WILL SOON AND OFTEN WISH YOUNG ALGERIANS WELCOME IN THE UNIVERSITY OF HOUSTON, WE WISH HIM HERE TODAY A MOST WARM WELCOME.” Theatrically, Hoffman walked up to the blackboard and responded in writing “VIVE ALGERIA and ALGERIAN-AMERICAN FRIENDSHIP.”82 He also brought UH promotional materials to Algeria.83 EDUCATION AND THE COLOR LINE Beyond the tangible economic benefit of relying on public institutions to provide job training, promoting international education carried other clear benefits as well. In the context of decolonization and global civil rights movements, corporate and state leaders were increasingly wary of accusations of racism in foreign affairs.84 As Undersecretary of State George W. Ball told the National Retail Merchants Association in 1963, “The principle which underlay most of the colonial arrangements was the arrogant assumption of the ‘white man’s burden,’ an attitude which for generations misled the governors and offended the governed. But now the notion of white supremacy is nearing its final days in international relations.” Sponsoring international students from around the world seemed, to many Houston oil executives, a perfect way to combat accusations of white supremacy. Crucially, the arrival of large numbers of international students in Houston in the 1950s and 1960s coincided with the growing visibility of the city’s civil rights movement. The presence of racialized international students, particularly those from Africa, Asia, and Latin America, presented the city’s proponents of international education with an opportunity to demonstrate their purportedly progressive stance on racial egalitarianism—even though these same people were often quite resistant to the demands of black and Latino Houstonians.85 Unsurprisingly, international students coming to Texas arrived with trepidation about the South’s racial discrimination, and the IIE and Houston businesspeople tried to convince them otherwise. In some cases, they succeeded. As one constituent explained to Congressional Representative Kay Bailey, “They had been warned to go north if they were black. A young man from Lagos, Nigeria told me that he almost froze last winter in Ohio where he was in school AND that the people were not friendly as they are in Texas.”86 At the same time, racial boundaries often remained quite stark. The IIE tended to exoticize particularly students from the global South, even going so far as to treat them as servants or performers at IIE fundraisers. At the first International Fair Scholarship Ball, a fundraiser for IIE, students “attend[ed] wearing native folk costumes” while Houston residents donned black tie attire.87 At another luncheon benefit, students “dressed in costumes of their native lands” while working as hostesses, serving the event’s patrons.88 In theory, oilfield services companies’ business model imagined international students as potential employees or oilfield clients, equals in the oil marketplace. But Houston oil and university executives did not believe this theory conflicted with exoticizing their sponsored students. “It is largely by knowing him that the American comes to know his colleague’s country, customs, and history,” university administrators argued; “in addition to taking back to his country technical knowledge from the university he attends in America, he also brings to the American campus the rich folk lore and traditions of his own country.”89 In other words, students exchanged their local color for American expertise; their exoticism was their currency. For all their condescension, universities and oil executives alike took great pains to make sure that students understood that they saw them as future leaders and as clients. In 1966, SMU hosted a summer program for fifteen IIE-sponsored students identified as “potential leaders of their native developing countries” hailing from countries including Nigeria, Jordan, and India. Dorothy Kpojime, a student from Nigeria, explained that “The seminars here are designed to give us a general idea of what would be the best thing for us to do for our country if we were there … . When we return, we will know what advice to give our countrymen.”90 Students like Kpojime hoped—and had reason to believe—that studying in Texas would forge lasting relationships with Houston companies as well as leverage back home. One case study illustrates these intersections among business, the state, the university, and international students. In June 1962, IIE’s Houston’s office hosted a Summer Crossroads program, in which twenty-nine international students “who had finished their studies at U.S. universities and were on their way home” visited Houston for a week-long “discussion of American life, the students’ experiences in this country and their views of the U.S.” In partnership with Rice University, the IIE brought business leaders and educators to meet with the students for sessions on Rice’s campus. Students lived in home stays with Houston host families during their visit. Students came from Europe, Morocco, Brazil, Japan, Pakistan, Palestine, Iran, India, Jordan, Ceylon, Libya, and Chile and declared majors ranging from business administration to political science, theater, and engineering.91 The program was funded through donations from Continental Oil Company, Humble Oil and Refining Company, and the Texas Gulf Producing Company, which paid for the students to travel to Houston from their universities across the country. In fact, Lawrence S. Reed of Texas Gulf Producing Company spearheaded raising the funds.92 The program opened with a forum on Free Enterprise and Economic Development, led by Richard Gonzalez, the Director of Finance and Economics for Humble Oil; Lovett Peters, a vice-president at Continental; and Gaston V. Rimlinger, Associate Professor of Economics at Rice. The panelists presented an unsurprising Cold War vision of free enterprise to the students, referring to “two opposite economic systems: that of free enterprise and that of state control and direction,” which “modern societies must choose between.”93 Texas itself, the panelists argued, provided a perfect demonstration of free enterprise: “Our State of Texas is an eloquent example of the complete transformation of a region by the use of capital investment to develop its resources, attract growth of population, raise educational and cultural standards of life all around.”94 This kind of Cold War language was to be expected, but students also received a more direct education in American business life. The students took a tour of the Shell Oil Company Refinery in Deer Park and toured the Houston Ship Channel.95 Moreover, students were urged to consider the work of scientists and engineers as a “labor of love,” performed out of duty and devotion rather than for pay. For instance, Marty Byrnes, Center Operations Manager of NASA, delivered a lecture in which he told students that NASA was headquartered in Texas because of the “suitable climate for year-round operation,” the “good port,” “free land for the project,” and “closeness to a good university of graduate studies and research in the sciences and technology.” In addition, NASA was an example of the selflessness of scientific professionals. “It has become a labor of love and unremitting toil,” the speaker told the students. “The men work overtime on their own.”96 The students were also instructed in American racial politics. The program concluded with a forum entitled “The American Scene: A Kaleidoscopic View,” with panelists Ross Baker, an independent oil operator and Congressional candidate; Dr. J. Reuben Sheeler, the African American head of the department of History and Geography at Texas Southern University; and Trenton W. Wann, an Assistant Professor of Psychology at Rice.97 The American Kaleidoscope turned out to be dizzying. Conservative white politician and oilman Baker wanted students to understand arguments for states’ rights in the context of desegregation and urban renewal. Students asked why President Kennedy’s attempt to create a new cabinet position, Housing and Urban Development, with African American housing expert Robert Weaver at the helm, had drawn strong Congressional opposition. Baker admitted—in passive voice—that “racial prejudice was a strong factor here,” but that “many statesmen objected to Federal intrusion into problems of urban renewal, which, as he thought, should remain under local control and direction.” In fact, Baker argued that, “[f]rom the beginning the American idea was ‘no excess of government.’”98 At the same time, the organizers obviously intended this forum—with its inclusion of Sheeler, the only African American on the program—to assuage foreign students’ concerns about the color line in the United States. Sheeler, in addition to teaching at TSU (where he would go on to be president) was also the Consul between Texas and Haiti and a Cultural Specialist for the State Department. As a Cultural Specialist, Sheeler was tasked with addressing foreign audiences about the state of race and African Americans in the United States.99 When students asked the panel to “state plainly” how the federal government would deal with desegregation and racial equality in the United States, Dr. Sheeler responded in “very dispassionate terms,” telling students that “[s]egregation … is dead, that is to say it is now going through the dying process. It is being slowly but surely destroyed by the better conscience of the American people. But such radical changes in our social texture require time for their full accomplishment. We should look at the whole process more reasonably.”100 Moreover, residents of the wealthiest Houston neighborhoods served as the hosts for the international students, bringing into stark relief the role that students of color played in the Houston racial landscape. In the early 1960s, Houston was slowly beginning to desegregate, and the city’s formal leaders remained white.101 While wealthy white Houstonians often starkly opposed labor civil rights activism in the city’s factories, they performatively opened their homes to international students who came to the city to study engineering and management.102 A white person’s home could be a site of exotic exchange with students from the global South, who seemed more like diplomats than neighbors; but the same consideration could not be extended to black and Latino Houstonians. Figure 3: View largeDownload slide This map shows the addresses of the host families who housed international students during Summer Crossroads (black dots) superimposed on a map showing the relative household incomes of neighborhoods in Houston in 1960 (the darkest shading indicates the largest proportions of households earning more than $15,000 per year). The students were housed in the wealthiest neighborhoods of the city, indicating both the socioeconomic status of IIE members and the version of Houston students were shown. Sources: 1960 Census data; “Summer Crossroads, 1962,” Report, Publication, FL. This map was created using ArcGIS® software by Esri. ArcGIS® and ArcMap™ are the intellectual property of Esri and are used herein under license. Copyright © Esri. All rights reserved. For more information about Esri® software, please visit www.esri.com. Figure 3: View largeDownload slide This map shows the addresses of the host families who housed international students during Summer Crossroads (black dots) superimposed on a map showing the relative household incomes of neighborhoods in Houston in 1960 (the darkest shading indicates the largest proportions of households earning more than $15,000 per year). The students were housed in the wealthiest neighborhoods of the city, indicating both the socioeconomic status of IIE members and the version of Houston students were shown. Sources: 1960 Census data; “Summer Crossroads, 1962,” Report, Publication, FL. This map was created using ArcGIS® software by Esri. ArcGIS® and ArcMap™ are the intellectual property of Esri and are used herein under license. Copyright © Esri. All rights reserved. For more information about Esri® software, please visit www.esri.com. Students’ receptions were hard to track, but they declared the session on free enterprise and economic development as their favorite.103 In a survey, they suggested that future forum topics should include discrimination in the South as well as U.S. aid to underdeveloped nations.104 In future years, students requested the chance to “visit or tour … lower and middle income housing areas.”105 The Summer Crossroads program made clear the centrality of the oil industry to Houston’s international student program, but it also demonstrated that students were not completely convinced by the programming they were presented. Educating international students in Texas aimed to convince African, Asian, Latin American, and Middle Eastern students that the oil industry would allow them the same opportunities as their white American counterparts. And education, imagined as an opportunity to nurture one’s knowledge, sought to soften the hard edge of American global power. At the same time, oil and oilfield services companies’ investment in education cemented Houston as the headquarters of oil expertise and made Texas the conduit through which all aspiring engineers needed to pass. The expansion of international education in Houston aimed to give the international oil industry a benevolent veneer. However, labor conditions for blue-collar oil workers the world over were poorly remunerated and dangerous, even while oilfield services companies made unprecedented profits as the Cold War progressed. In Vietnam, for instance, Brown & Root had leveraged its experience constructing offshore oil bases and its privileged relationship with President Johnson into a contract constructing military bases. Brown & Root first came to Vietnam in August 1965, when President Johnson declared an escalation of the war effort. In two years, the company with other contractors built over a billion dollars’ worth of construction, including “airfields, headquarters, [and] barracks.” They also built two ports, a military headquarters complex, a U.S. Embassy, and “even some of those Saigon streets.”106 As historian James Carver has argued, “the war in Vietnam resulted not from outside aggression, but from the failure of the six-year effort to build a viable state infrastructure around the regime in Saigon,” including “building ports and airfields, hospitals, and schools; dredging canals and harbors to create a transportation grid; [and] constructing an elaborate network of modern roadways,” making the company a crucial component of the war effort.107 In 1966, Brown & Root employees peaked at 51,000, just 4,100 of them Americans; the rest were skilled Korean and Filipino workers and 41,000 unskilled Vietnamese.108 American engineers in Vietnam were exempt from income tax if they stayed abroad for eighteen months.109 By contrast, Brown & Root underpaid Vietnamese workers. The average monthly wage in Vietnam in 1966 was $35, but unskilled Vietnamese generally earned about $21 per month, or 8 cents an hour for a 60-hour week. American employees of the company, by contrast, earned “an average nearly 60 times the wage of Vietnamese laborers.” As Ramparts put it, “The wage differential—4,100 Americans with monthly earnings over $5 million; 41,000 Vietnamese drawing $1.4 million a month—is comparable only to the white-colored pay differential in South Africa.”110 Brown & Root hired their Vietnamese staff from internment camps, “most of whom had been either forcibly removed from their homes in NLF-controlled areas in preparation for a U.S.-allied attack, or driven out by U.S. bombs.”111 As one Brown & Root construction employee told a reporter, “Half our Vietnamese work force are VC, come to work in the morning half-asleep because they’ve been up all night shooting mortars, and they steal us blind. But Brown & Root don’t care: they’d build bases for the devil himself if the fee was good.”112 In May 1966, Vietnamese workers struck eleven times. Workers reported that Americans beat Vietnamese workers and once even shot and killed a worker.113 In the meantime, Brown & Root earned a $6 million profit.114 Given these abuses—which the social movements of the 1960s were bringing to light, including in the pages of Ramparts—softening oilfield services companies’ image was more crucial than ever. The relationship of international education with women and hospitality domesticated U.S. foreign power, making it safe rather than threatening. One student, Mehdi Vossoughi, met a Texas family who had spent time in Iran, likely because of their relationship with the country’s oil industry. Rather than interpreting this relationship as a business or imperial circumstance, Vossoughi saw it through the lens of domesticity: “I lived with the Youngers, who were very nice people. It really surprised me to learn that Mr. Younger had been in my home town in Iran. The Youngers had two sons who both have wonderful personalities. I began to imagine that I was in my home in Iran.”115 Women’s groups like the IIE helped to domesticate the oil industry, to make its impact palatable to a variety of constituents. Women supporters of the global oil industry made the entire enterprise seem less dangerously imperial, much as women’s domesticity did in the burgeoning American empire of the 1840s.116 However, if the oilfield services industry was to rely on a discourse of service to make its empire safe, it would also have to rebrand service as sufficiently masculine for its largely male workforce to abide. Schlumberger responded to this conundrum by emphasizing the kind of manhood that service engendered. “As a Schlumberger engineer, you will have more responsibility and authority than can be found in any similar position in the petroleum industry.” The company told its employees, “At Schlumberger, you will hold the key to your future.”117 But this authority lay in service: “You will be joining a team of professionals dedicated to customer service. Your talent and professional skills will help us meet our customers’ needs.”118 The company required engineers on overseas assignment in the Eastern Hemisphere and South America to be unmarried for the first fifteen months spent abroad; but the work of domesticity was effectively being done at home.119 Oil companies’ sponsorship of international students in Texas helped to engender a new cultural understanding of the U.S. corporation’s role on the world stage. In this new vision, the corporation was reimagined as truly global. No longer were American companies merely tasked with exporting domestically produced products abroad, or extracting raw materials abroad for manufacture at home. Instead, an American corporation could hire and manage employees anywhere in the world. The shift from direct control over oil production to a corporate strategy of oilfield service provision was coupled with a new discourse that framed the sale of American expertise not as benevolence but as a simple marketplace exchange. Meeting at the market, this narrative posited, oilfield services providers and oilfield owners were equals. This vision promised to replace an old order of American and European dominance with a new one suited for a postcolonial era—while Texas got to keep the profits. In the coming decades, this vision would be both challenged and more deeply entrenched. But as the Cold War thawed, R. E. Smith’s vision of foreign affairs would prove more lasting than that his Cold Warrior contemporaries. Footnotes 1 “Giving Latin Students a Taste of Texas,” Business Week, August 25, 1956. 2 Ibid. 3 Penny Von Eschen, Satchmo Blows Up the World: Jazz Ambassadors Play the Cold War (Cambridge, MA, 2004). 4 David Ekbladh, The Great American Mission: Modernization and the Construction of an American World Order (Princeton, NJ, 2010); Nils Gilman, Mandarins of the Future: Modernization Theory in Cold War America (Baltimore, MD, 2003); Michael E. Latham, Modernization as Ideology: American Social Science and ‘Nation Building’ in the Kennedy Era (Chapel Hill, NC, 2000); Nick Cullather, The Hungry World: America’s Cold War Battle Against Poverty in Asia (Cambridge, MA, 2010). 5 Daniel Yergin, The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money and Power (New York, 1991); Timothy Mitchell, Carbon Democracy: Political Power in the Age of Oil (Brooklyn, NY, 2011). 6 See, for instance, Christina Klein, Cold War Orientalism: Asia in the Middlebrow Imagination, 1945–1961 (Berkeley, CA, 2003); Naoko Shibusawa, America’s Geisha Ally: Re-Imagining the Japanese Enemy (Cambridge, MA, 2006). For a longer view of the twentieth century, see also Victoria de Grazia, Irresistible Empire: America’s Advance Through Twentieth Century Europe (Cambridge, MA, 2005). 7 Jonathan Zimmerman, Innocents Abroad: American Teachers in the American Century (Cambridge, MA, 2006); Liping Bu, Making the World Like Us: Education, Cultural Expansion, and the American Century (Westport, CT, 2003); Ting Ni, The Cultural Experiences of Chinese Students Who Studied in the United States during the 1930s–1940s (Lewiston, NY, 2002); Whitney Walton, Internationalism, National Identities, and Study Abroad: France and the United States, 1890–1970 (Stanford, CA, 2010); Talya Zemach-Bersin, “Global Citizenship & Study Abroad: It’s All About U.S.,” Critical Literacy: Theories and Practices 1, no. 2 (December 2007): 16–28. See also Richard T. Arndt, The First Resort of Kings: American Cultural Diplomacy in the Twentieth Century (Dulles, VA, 2005). 8 One significant exception is Jenifer Van Vleck, Empire of the Air: Aviation and the American Ascendancy (Cambridge, MA, 2013). 9 The one notable exception is Bethany Moreton’s work on Wal-Mart’s investment in Christian business education for American and Latin American students (although this corporate priority emerged in the 1970s and 1980s, when Cold War rhetoric was less influential). See Moreton, To Serve God and Wal-Mart: The Making of Christian Free Enterprise (Cambridge, MA, 2009). 10 Emily Rosenberg, Financial Missionaries to the World: The Politics and Culture of Dollar Diplomacy, 1900–1930 (Durham, NC, 2003). 11 David Ekbladh, The Great American Mission: Modernization and the Construction of an American World Order (Princeton, NJ, 2010), 3. 12 Niall Ferguson, “Crisis, What Crisis?: The 1970s and the Shock of the Global,” in The Shock of the Global: The 1970s in Perspective, Niall Ferguson, et al. (Cambridge, MA, 2010), 16. 13 Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 10. 14 Patty Limerick, “Fencing in the Past,” Diplomatic History 36, no. 3 (June 2012): 507. 15 Railroad Commission of Texas, “Crude Oil Production and Well Counts (since 1935),” accessed September 29, 2015, http://www.rrc.state.tx.us/oil-gas/research-and-statistics/production-data/historical-production-data/crude-oil-production-and-well-counts-since-1935/. 16 Yergin, The Prize. 17 “Logistical Engineering,” Port of Houston Magazine 2, no. 1 (November 1948): 1; Tyler Priest and Michael Botson, “Bucking the Odds: Organized Labor in Gulf Coast Oil Refining,” Journal of American History 99, no. 1 (June 2012): 100–10. 18 The Seven Sisters included the Standard Oil Company of New Jersey (later Exxon), the Standard Oil Company of New York (Socony, later Mobil, which eventually merged with Exxon), the Standard Oil Company of California (Socal, later renamed Chevron), the Texas Oil Company (later renamed Texaco), Gulf Oil (which later merged with Chevron), Anglo-Persian (later British Petroleum), and Royal Dutch/Shell. See “Milestones: 1921–1936,” U.S. Department of State Office of the Historian, accessed September 29, 2015, http://history.state.gov/milestones/1921-1936/RedLine. 19 Dr. F. G. Baptista, “The Importance of Conservation Plant ‘Tia Juana No. 1,’” Talk Presented at the Rotary Club in Maracaibo, January 4, 1955, Creole Petroleum Corporation, 3, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, Woodson Research Center, Fondren Library (hereafter FL), Rice University, Houston, Texas. 20 Ibid. 21 Guillermo Zuloaga, “Influence of the Petroleum Industry on the Economy of Venezuela,” Presented to Inter-American Conference of Commerce and India, Houston, Texas, April 23, 1952, 2, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL; “Venezuela in Brief,” Creole in Venezuela (February 1953), 5, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL; Dr. F. G. Baptista, “The Importance of Conservation Plant ‘Tia Juana No. 1.’” 22 “Venezuela Taking Two Sun Firms,” Sun News 29, no. 10 (October 1975): 1. 23 Ibid. 24 George Brown to Guillermo Zuloaga, April 9, 1954, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL. 25 Institute of International Education (hereafter IIE), “A Brief History of IIE,” accessed September 29, 2015, http://www.iie.org/Who-We-Are/History. 26 Thomas S. Sutherland, “Institute of International Education,” 1953, folder 9, box 1, League of Women Voters Collection, Houston Metropolitan Research Center (hereafter HMRC), Houston, Texas. 27 Ibid. 28 Institute of International Education Monthly Report, April–May 1952, box 3M446, Jesse H. Jones Papers, Dolph Briscoe Center, University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas. 29 Port of Houston Magazine (October 1973): 29. 30 IIE Annual Reports, 1952–1964, IIE Annual Report, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 31 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided by Institute of International Education,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970): 16–19. 32 Institute of International Education, Monthly Report (November 1952), Jesse Jones Papers, Briscoe Research Center, University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas. 33 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 34 Ibid. 35 Institute of International Education, “Program: Third Annual Southwest Regional Dinner” (December 14, 1955), folder 2, box 47, Oveta Culp Hobby Papers (hereafter Hobby Papers), FL. 36 Facts and Information about the Institute of International Education, n.d., folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 37 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 38 Ibid. 39 Oveta Culp Hobby, Introductory Remarks, Third Annual Southwest Educational Exchange Dinner of the Institute of International Education (December 14, 1955), folder 2, box 7, Hobby Papers, FL. 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid. 42 George Corless to Oveta Culp Hobby, September 28, 1955, folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 43 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 44 Ibid. 45 Facts and Information about the Institute of International Education, n.d., folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 46 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid. 49 Port of Houston Magazine (May 1955): 44. 50 Hobby, Introductory Remarks, Hobby Papers, FL. 51 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 52 IIE Annual Reports, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 53 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 54 “A Curriculum Proposal for a Cross Cultural World Community Program,” 10, folder 32, box 29, University of Houston President’s Office Collection (hereafter UH President’s Office Collection), Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (hereafter UH). 55 Institute of International Education Annual Report, 1952, Institute of International Education Annual Reports, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 56 Houston Institute of International Education, All Around the Region (August 1957). 57 Southern Methodist University, “Endowed Scholarships,” 1986, 6, in “Financial Aid 1980–1987 (including scholarships)” folder, box 13, Student Activity Records, Southern Methodist University DeGolyer Library (hereafter SMU); “Indian Impressed by Labs at SMU,” clipping, n.d., “SMU Foreign Students (International Students)” folder, box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 58 John D. Badwey, “World Trade Ideas Spawned at SMU,” clipping, n.d., “SMU Foreign Students (International Students)” folder, box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 59 Ann Worley, “SMU ‘Summer Home’ to Foreign Students,” Dallas Times Herald, June 24, 1966. 60 “Statistics Concerning Foreign Students Enrolled in S.M.U.,” 1958–1959, folder “SMU Foreign Students (International Students),” box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 61 “Roster by Country,” folder 32, box 29, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 62 Ibid. 63 “Proposal for Changing Admission Requirements for Undergraduate International Students (Effective Spring 1976 Semester),” folder 32, box 29, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 64 Bu, Making the World Like Us, 237–42. 65 Robert Vitalis, America’s Kingdom: Mythmaking on the Saudi Oil Frontier (Brooklyn, NY, 2009), 24. 66 Ibid., 14. 67 Ibid., 25. 68 IIE Annual Report 1976, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 69 Justin Hart, Empire of Ideas: The Origins of Public Diplomacy and the Transformation of U.S. Foreign Policy (New York, 2013), 9. 70 Bu, Making the World Like Us, 2. 71 Ibid., 7. 72 IIE Annual Reports, 1963–1976, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 73 For an introduction to this issue, see Vitalis, America’s Kingdom, 24, 97. 74 Luther H. Hodges to Philip Hoffman, May 26, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 75 Philip Hoffman to Louis A. Rouse, August 30, 1962, folder 7, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. For more examples of these kinds of university-state partnerships, see James M. Carver, Inventing Vietnam: The United States and State Building, 1954–1968 (New York, 2008). 76 Charles H. Clarke to Philip Hoffman, June 1, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 77 Rebecca S. Lowen, Creating the Cold War University: The Transformation of Stanford (Berkeley, CA, 1997). For more on the Cold War university see also David Engerman, “Rethinking Cold War Universities: Some Recent Histories,” Journal of Cold War Studies 5, no. 3 (Summer 2003): 80–95; Noam Chomsky, et al., The Cold War and the University: Towards an Intellectual History of the Postwar Years (New York, 1997); Ron Robin, Making the Cold War Enemy: Culture and Politics in the Military-Industrial Complex (Princeton, NJ, 2001); Christopher Simpson, ed., Universities and Empire: Money and Politics in the Social Sciences during the Cold War (New York, 1998); Margaret O’Mara, Cities of Knowledge: Cold War Science and the Search for the Next Silicon Valley (Princeton, NJ, 2005). 78 Jeanne T. Pfeifer to Philip Hoffman, June 22, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 79 Ibid. 80 “Excerpts from PGH Letters from Algeria,” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH; “Highlights of Dr. Hoffman’s Program,” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 81 “Remarks by President Ben Bella at Inaugural of American Exhibit ‘Education for Progress,’” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 82 “Highlights of Dr. Hoffman’s Program,” UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 83 Charles H. Clarke to Philip Hoffman, 15 June 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 84 Mary Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy (Princeton, NJ, 2000). 85 See, for instance, Michael J. Botson, Jr., Labor, Civil Rights, and the Hughes Tool Company (College Station, TX, 2005). 86 Nell Norman to Kay Bailey, February 27, 1973, “Education - Higher” folder, box 1, Kay Bailey Collection, HMRC. 87 Port of Houston Magazine, September 1961, 9–11. 88 “Languages Mingle at IIE Colorful Luncheon Benefit,” Houston Chronicle, Institute of International Education Clipping File, Houston Chronicle Morgue, HMRC. 89 Cosmo Dispatch (March 1959). 90 “Summer Students,” Dallas Times Herald, June 24, 1966. 91 “Summer Crossroads, 1962” Report, Publication, 35, FL. 92 Ibid., 1. 93 Ibid., 10. 94 Ibid., 11. 95 Ibid., 3, 4. 96 Ibid., 22. 97 Ibid., 6. 98 Ibid., 26. 99 “J. Reuben Sheeler Collection: An Inventory of his Records at the Houston Metropolitan Research Center, Houston Public Library,” accessed March 10, 2017, http://www.lib.utexas.edu/taro/houpub/00067/hpub-00067.html. 100 “Summer Crossroads,” 26, FL. 101 William Henry Keller, Make Haste Slowly: Moderates, Conservatives, and School Desegregation in Houston (College Station, TX, 1999); Guadalupe San Miguel Jr., Brown, Not White: School Integration and the Chicano Movement in Houston (College Station, TX, 2001). 102 Michael R. Botson, Jr., Labor, Civil Rights, and the Hughes Tool Company (College Station, TX, 2005). 103 “Evaluations of Summer Crossroads,” Publication, FL. 104 Ibid. 105 Ibid., 2. 106 David Welsh, “Building Lyndon Johnson,” Ramparts (December 1967), 61. 107 Carver, Inventing Vietnam, 6–7. 108 Ibid., 62. 109 Ibid. 110 Ibid. 111 Ibid. 112 Ibid., 61. 113 Ibid. 114 Ibid. 115 Around the Region (December 1957). 116 Amy Kaplan, “Manifest Domesticity,” from The Anarchy of Empire in the Making of U.S. Culture (Cambridge, MA, 2005). 117 Schlumberger pamphlet, n.d., folder 1, box 1, H. David Kaplan Schlumberger Collection, UH. 118 Ibid. 119 Ibid. © The Author 2017. Published by Oxford University Press on behalf of the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations. All rights reserved. For permissions, please e-mail: journals.permissions@oup.com. http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Diplomatic History Oxford University Press

Service Learning: Oil, International Education, and Texas’s Corporate Cold War

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Blackwell Publishing Inc.
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© The Author 2017. Published by Oxford University Press on behalf of the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations. All rights reserved. For permissions, please e-mail: journals.permissions@oup.com.
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0145-2096
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1467-7709
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Abstract

Abstract During the Cold War, oil and oilfield services companies recruited international students to study engineering and business in Houston. Oilfield services executives used education to present their new global corporate reach as benevolent and nonthreatening for both American workers and citizens of oil-rich nations in a moment of post-colonial upheaval. In 1956, Texas oilman R. E. Smith invited forty graduate students from Latin America to a barbecue at his ranch. With four hundred pounds of beef and three hundred ears of corn on offer, Smith hoped to show these student visitors some Texas hospitality. According to a Business Week journalist covering the event, Smith’s barbecue helped students gain a sense of “how we do things here in Texas” and an “introduction, in their host, to the breed of businessman that has made the state famous.”1 As the students left the ranch for the U.S. universities where they would spend the next academic year, they departed “with the Texas booster gospel still resounding in their ears …to find out whether the rest of the U.S. can live up to Texas.” But the students found more than a sense of the state’s storied can-do spirit. Especially those studying petroleum engineering, the article noted, “may also have carried away from the Smith ranch some valuable hints for their studies.”2 This barbecue-cooking businessman was a Cold War diplomat, just as much as Satchmo was during his jazz tours of Europe.3 At his ranch, Smith sang the gospel of the free world and free enterprise just as other Cold War culture warriors did. But Smith’s message was also a bit different. Other Cold Warriors tended to emphasize what capitalist development could produce for its adherents to purchase, a consumer-based vision perhaps best articulated in Vice President Nixon’s Kitchen Debate with Soviet Premier Nikita Krushchev in 1959. Cold War technocrats argued that accepting expertise from American advisors would spur modernization and bring with it consumer prosperity.4 Smith, on the other hand, was first and foremost a businessman. For Smith and his fellow oil-rich Texans, technological expertise itself was American capitalism’s primary product. The Latin American students who visited his ranch were not hearts and minds to be won but future employees of Texas-based oil companies that increasingly extracted and refined oil overseas. Smith’s barbecue was a small piece of a larger postwar project, as oilmen and universities combined forces to bring international students to Texas to learn how to produce petroleum back home. The students journeyed from a range of nations in the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and Latin America, and enrolled in undergraduate and graduate programs in engineering, management, and the earth sciences. Oil companies headquartered in Texas often financed their studies with scholarships. Through partnerships among state agencies, corporations, nonprofit organizations, and universities, students arrived in Houston to study to become managers, technicians, and engineers on oilfields across the world. Their corporate benefactors hoped that they would venture back home to work loyally for and with Houston-based companies to develop their nations’ oil wealth. Oil companies opted to support international education because their industry was in flux. During the Cold War, many oil-rich nations in the global South secured independence from their former colonizers, and often the process of decolonization also involved nationalizing oil fields.5 Decolonization and oilfield nationalization threatened the economic hegemony of U.S.- and European-based multinational oil companies, which struggled to respond to the new geopolitical climate. Led by a cohort of Houston-based companies that focused on selling oilfield services—technological expertise and management consulting—rather than oil itself, the oil industry eventually responded by restructuring its economic model. Shifting from its historical focus on the production, refining, and selling of the commodity of oil, the U.S.-based oil industry sought instead to establish itself as the global headquarters of oil expertise. U.S. companies began to market and sell their expertise in oil production on oilfields—even nationalized ones—the world over. Especially for Houston-based oilfield services companies like Halliburton, Brown & Root, and Schlumberger, this economic strategy of selling services ensured that U.S.-based companies retained a powerful position in the industry even without controlling the extraction and refining of oil itself. Scholars have written at length about cultural diplomacy during the Cold War, including the role of international students and international educational exchange as a form of American soft power.6 Historians have charted how the state and private organizations founded, supported, and sought to influence a range of international education programs, addressing U.S. involvement in elementary, secondary, and higher education programs overseas; international students studying in the United States; and American students studying abroad.7 Less has been written, however, about the role of corporations, whether they worked alongside or at odds with the U.S. state.8 When scholars engage the business side of international education, they have focused on education’s public relations impact: in other words, how businesses have encouraged university development abroad or exchange programs to inspire goodwill between corporations and the populations in which they did business.9 Oilfield services companies, however, saw the good public relations flowing from international education as a peripheral benefit. Through international education programs, oilfield services firms trained some students as future employees and built lasting business partnerships with others. At the same time, oilfield services companies’ engagement with international education was a way to normalize the international relationships that the booming oilfield services industry dictated. Offering American expertise to the world had been a key component of American foreign policy far earlier than World War II and President Truman’s Point Four Plan. As historian Emily Rosenberg has shown, “dollar diplomacy” in the early twentieth century also relied on employing U.S. financial expertise as a foreign relations strategy.10 And historian David Ekbladh has argued that U.S.-led modernization—“a conscious set of policies to promote improvement and progress” abroad—did not begin after World War II but “crystallized” into a coherent consensus in the 1930s.11 But Texas-based oil firms who sponsored international students diverged from these visions of developmentalism. Modernization and dollar diplomacy had imagined a world ready to accept American consumer goods via state-developed infrastructure, higher worldwide standards of living, and the formation of modern identities. Texas oilfield services firms, on the other hand, did not traffic in American exports; they sold expertise itself, monetizing the very knowledge that promised to make the world modern. As trade liberalization “[did] away with the postwar restrictions on international capital flows,” oilfield services firms would continue to market their expertise through the end of the twentieth century and into the twenty-first.12 Ultimately, while the “consensus on modernization that had been cultivated by the United States” would be “shattered” in the 1970s, oilfield services firms would continue strong, representing continuity between the American Century and the post-1970s era rather than rupture.13 This essay examines the role of Texas-based—and, in particular, Houston-based—oil and oilfield services firms in sponsoring international education in Texas during the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. As a city with a peculiar relationship with the global oil industry, Houston is hardly a representative case study from which we can draw generalized conclusions about the relationships among American cities, corporate agendas, and international education. However, because of its special status, examining Houston more closely can illustrate how one industry exploited its local ties with transnational implications. This essay, in part, answers historian Patty Limerick’s call for scholarship that interrogates “how the West’s varying acceptance of and resistance to the production of oil, coal, and natural gas has shaped the attitudes of its residents and of their elected officials towards the United States’ relations’ with oil-producing countries.”14 In other words, shifting our focus to local centers of global power can yield different narratives of American internationalism and transnational capitalism. The union between oil and international education served to promote a particular global political economy: one in which corporations operated transnationally, with U.S.-headquartered executives managing the operations of workers spread across the globe. This example suggests that the ways in which corporate interests used state priorities to their own advantage during the Cold War helped to erect both the cultural and material scaffolding upon which the post-industrial U.S. economy would be constructed. FROM OIL TO OILFIELD SERVICES In the 1950s, the U.S. oil industry was in transition. Domestic and international demand for petroleum was skyrocketing, driven in part by suburbanization and industrial growth. However, domestic production was in decline.15 At the same time, oilfield nationalizations and postcolonial upheavals were upsetting the long-standing U.S. and European hegemony in the international oil industry.16 U.S.-based oil companies, then, faced a dual challenge: they were required to operate more internationally since U.S. production was in decline, but they had less control over international oil than ever before. In this context, some oil magnates found new ways to capitalize on the global extraction of oil without owning the oilfields themselves. The leading innovators in the industry were oilfield services companies. During the first half of the twentieth century, companies including Halliburton, Brown & Root, Hughes Tool, and Baker Oil Tools opened factories in Texas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana. In these early years, they manufactured oil tools, such as drilling bits, or sold oilfield processes, such as Halliburton’s use of cement to control gas wells and eliminate water from oil wells, to large and small oil companies seeking to cash in on the Texas boom. By midcentury, however, their aims were changing. Whereas their business models had been based on producing tools for domestic drilling before the war, during and after the war they began exporting oilfield tools to drilling sites abroad and, more importantly, consulting with and managing logistical operations for international drilling projects run by American and non-American companies and governments. The emerging field of oilfield logistics relied on American expert consultants, a give-and-take of export and import shipping, federal subsidization of international development projects, and American executives who did not mind that oil extraction—and, increasingly, refining—was more often being done abroad than on U.S. soil.17 Unlike the Seven Sisters, the major oil corporations based in the United States and Western Europe which dominated the global oil industry until the mid-1970s, oilfield equipment and services companies did not draw profits that depended on their control of oil reserves.18 Instead, they traveled to the oilfield, wherever it was located, selling their expertise and services rather than a concrete product. By the 1970s, more major multinational oil companies followed the way that had been paved by oilfield services firms: as U.S.-based firms lost control of international oil fields, and as domestic drilling decreased, companies large and small began to rely on selling their services to turn a profit. During the 1950s, oilfield services companies conducted a bustling international business. In 1954, for instance, Brown & Root was awarded a contract to design and construct Tia Juana No. 1, a Venezuelan conservation plant operated by the American-owned Creole Petroleum Corporation.19 The compressor plant at Lake Maracaibo was designed to gather the gas that was produced as a byproduct of the production of petroleum. Without the plant, “[w]hen … petroleum flows from its site in the reservoir to the bottom of a well and then up the tubing of the well to the surface, the pressure gradually decreases,” thereby “permit[ting] the lighter hydrocarbon fractions to change to gaseous form and in consequence the stream that leaves the well head is a mixture of liquid petroleum with bubbles of gas.”20 In the production process, petroleum was separated from the gas, and the petroleum was sent to a refinery. Most of the gas was lost “due to the difficulty that exists in transporting it to large industrial centers.” Seventy-seven percent of gas produced was lost to the atmosphere rather than being used as fuel. The compressor plant gathered this formerly lost gas, either to produce as fuel or to use to inject reservoirs that were underperforming. Creole hired an outside firm to build the plant because the company’s specialized services helped maximize profits. Creole hired Brown & Root specifically because of the pre-existing relationship between the two American companies.21 But even from the vantage point of 1954, this way of business seemed to be in danger as former colonies declared independence. And, indeed, two decades later, in 1976, the Venezuelan government nationalized the assets of all U.S.-based oil concerns, including Creole.22 While companies like Creole would be forced to leave Venezuela, Brown & Root would have a different fate—because of the strategies it and other oilfield services companies began to pioneer in the 1950s. Oilfield services companies did business by seeking to convince their clients that their economic power was safe; they sought not to control natural resources, after all, but merely to offer their hard-won expertise to best develop others’ resources. Throughout the postwar years, as nations nationalized oilfields and began ejecting U.S.-based companies from their oilfields, U.S.-based oilfield services companies like Brown & Root remained and quickly secured new contracts. Oilfield services firm Sperry-Sun, for instance, “negotiate[d] a fee in return for continued technological support” directly with the Venezuelan government in the wake of nationalization. Ironically, nationalization freed multinational companies to become free agents, unmoored from the restrictions of vertical integration in an era in which flexible business models were becoming more profitable.23 Oilfield services companies positioned themselves as apolitical service providers serving clients, and promoting international education was a key part of that overall mission. Long before Venezuela liquidated Creole’s assets, Brown & Root had begun seeking links between Venezuelan students and Houston universities. In 1954, George Brown, Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Rice University and president of Brown & Root, wrote to Guillermo Zuloaga, a member of Creole’s Board of Directors, with a suggestion: “I am asking Dr. Craig at the Rice Institute Library to send you a complete set of Rice catalogues for the university about which we talked,” he wrote; “I am also sending you a Rice brochure and a clipping on our new venture of getting more roots in the ground by enlarging our board. I talked with Dr. Houston about my conversation with you and told him I thought Venezuela was a good field for us to get some top students.”24 For Brown, then, recruiting international students would be good for U.S. oilmen in Venezuela and for Houston’s Rice University. Brown was not alone. During the 1950s and 1960s, bringing international students to study in the United States drew popular support in Houston as part of a Cold War program of cultural diplomacy, and the city’s oil industry quickly became one of the movement’s primary funders in Houston. Drawing in part from their experiences in places like Venezuela, oil and oilfield services companies began looking for ways to encourage international education in Texas. Oil executives relied on an existing institutional scaffolding to support their project to promote international education in Houston. The Houston office of the Institute of International Education (IIE) became oil companies’ key collaborator. Founded in 1919 by Columbia University President Nicholas Murray Butler, former Secretary of State Elihu Root, and College of the City of New York professor Stephen Duggan, Sr., the national Institute was headquartered in New York City. The organization began as a nonprofit independent from the U.S. government and devoted to encouraging international interaction in the purportedly isolationist period after World War I.25 With a mission to “creat[e] better understanding among the peoples of the world through educational exchanges,” the IIE administered scholarship programs from private organizations and the U.S. government. Among the most important programs the IIE administered was the Fulbright Program beginning in 1946. By 1953, the IIE had handled 16,000 scholarships for international students to visit the United States and for U.S. students to study abroad. The organization also hosted international political leaders and speakers traveling to the United States to give lectures. The national headquarters of the IIE drew financial support from the Carnegie Corporation, the Rockefeller Foundation, the Ford Foundation, Radio Corporation of America (RCA), Standard Oil, and hundreds of other individuals and corporations.26 Until the 1950s, IIE had only a single office in New York. In 1951, the Ford Foundation granted the organization funding to establish regional offices in hopes that local branches could help visiting students “get a full view of American family and community life.” This effort was part of a larger Cold War attempt to win the hearts and minds of residents of the so-called “Third World,” employing a wide range of cultural diplomacy programs to promote what became dubbed “the American way of life.”27 The local offices enjoyed autonomy from the national headquarters, administering scholarships for regional corporations on their own and hosting their own slate of programs. From its establishment, the Southern Regional Office of the IIE, headquartered in Houston, was deeply entwined with the oil industry. Oil magnate L. F. McCollum founded the Houston office in 1952. McCollum, who worked for Humble Oil & Refining before becoming president of Continental Oil later in his career, became the first chairman of the Southern Regional Board of the IIE. Jesse Jones, banker and real estate magnate, former head of the New Deal’s Reconstruction Finance Corporation, and booster of the Houston oil industry, was a key promoter of the IIE, using his contacts in the federal government to garner support and secure high-profile speakers.28 And John de Menil, the head of the Houston-based oilfield services company Schlumberger, was the Chairman of the Southern Regional Advisory Board.29 Oilfield services firms Brown & Root, Baker Oil Tools, and Hughes Tool were also IIE supporters and contributed financially to the Houston office’s programs.30 De Menil even loaned pieces from his extensive private art collection to the IIE offices.31 In Houston, the IIE focused on fundraisers, meet-and-greets, and community events designed to encourage personal exchanges between Houstonians and international students in addition to administering scholarship funds.32 The IIE served as the “international arm” of Houston, providing the logistics for ceremonies, international visits, and “other courtesies when international VIPs fly in for visits.”33 “Individuals and organizations… call on IIE for help in setting up business appointments, seminars, tours, sightseeing, and the kind of hospitality that leaves international visitors with warm memories and a first hand [sic] knowledge of Houston,” one Houston journalist explained.34 In the Southwest, the IIE was responsible for “plac[ing] and select[ing] international students for 20 educational institutions in Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas,” as well as helping Southwestern students to pursue international study. The IIE hosted important international visitors and connected them with American citizens and institutions. Moreover, the IIE ran hospitality and educational programs to introduce international students to American life.35 The IIE described its duties in the Southwest this way: “Through an information and counseling service available to the public, the Institute annually aids thousands of persons interested in various aspects of international education … Typical questions range from ‘Can you furnish a list of Iraq's chemical engineers who have been trained in the United States?’ to ‘I am a Korean student. Is it possible for me to receive a scholarship to study dentistry in the United States?’”36 White women were overwhelmingly the architects of this program of hometown diplomacy. Alice Reynolds Pratt was Houston’s IIE Regional Director for almost two decades. Under her guidance, a staff of women made sure international visitors to the city were comfortable and cared for. In the IIE office, women staffers would receive calls alerting them to a scheduled visit, which they would then arrange. One journalist painted the picture this way: “A typical day for IIE’s foreign leader department began recently with a telephone call from the Governmental Affairs Institute in Washington D.C., letting them know that a Peruvian general would arrive in Houston the following Sunday for a three-day visit. Later, IIE’s assistant director, Martha Mewhirter, a linguist formerly in the foreign service, took another call from Washington telling her that the foreign minister of Rwanda would arrive the day after the Peruvian.”37 Members of twenty-five local women’s groups collaborated to develop programs to support the IIE.38 Figure 1: View largeDownload slide International students at the Houston World Trade Center. Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). Courtesy of Port of Houston Authority. Figure 1: View largeDownload slide International students at the Houston World Trade Center. Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). Courtesy of Port of Houston Authority. IIE officials saw international education as an important component of U.S. foreign policy, a way for the nation to win the Cold War. And women’s work—especially hospitality and entertaining—were a crucial component of the city’s diplomacy. In fact, this diplomacy was a Cold War responsibility. When Houstonian Oveta Culp Hobby, who served as the U.S. Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare until 1955, delivered the introductory remarks at the IIE’s third annual Southwest International Exchange Dinner in 1955, she made this point quite clear.39 “Before World War II, Chinese and Japanese students came to our colleges and universities by the hundreds—and returned to their shores without ever setting foot in an American home,” Hobby warned. “One such Chinese student mentioned this fact in quiet bitterness—speaking from his present position as a Chinese Communist, one who helped lead his country away from its alliance with America and into its dangerous alliance with Russia.”40 If only family were capacious enough, it could solve international problems: “I am afraid we cannot allow every foreigner to take home an American girl as his bride—happy solution to our international crises though this might prove to be.”41 In praise for her hard work, Hobby was told that “The visit in [her] home Saturday morning was the high point of the Houston stay of Mr. Arlindo Jose Pasqualini of Brazil.”42 At the IIE staffers’ urging, over one hundred Houstonians volunteered for an escort committee, accompanying visitors to appointments or offering tours of the city.43 “The IIE voice on the telephone is familiar to many Houstonians,” the magazine noted, calling up residents to ask them “Would you like to have a banker from Ecuador as your dinner guest on Tuesday?”44 If Houstonians were reluctant to help, the IIE explained their patriotic duty to host international guests: “Exchange programs are in the American tradition of the individual rather than the mass approach to problems, of giving to individuals the opportunity to develop their abilities to the fullest as the surest way of promoting the general welfare.”45 In the first six months of 1970, IIE served almost five hundred international visitors from all over the world, and in that year, the IIE hosted 290 international scholarship students in the Southwest.46 But the IIE staff also recognized that the organization’s relationship with business was hardly incidental. International visitors were attracted to Houston, Port of Houston magazine argued, by the “‘know-how’ in business and industry that has made Houston’s economic well-being famous around the world.”47 For instance, visitors from the Japan Productivity Center met with corporate representatives from companies including Shell to discuss “new approaches in coping with the worldwide problems of air and water pollution.”48 And in 1955, the German White Collar Union Leaders visited Houston to study labor conditions in the region.49 Hobby put the role of business in international education clearly into words: “Clearly the spear-head of this movement should be American businessmen and industrialists. Our great corporations have offices in cities and towns around the earth. Ideally, each corporation should train its employees for their diplomatic role before sending them to a foreign station.”50 The IIE also offered services to businesses operating internationally. “Of special value to business men is a roster IIE maintains of ‘internationally trained persons,’” Port of Houston magazine noted. This roster listed the 450,000 Houston residents “who have recently studied, taught, done research, or trained in countries other than their own.” Businesses could “use this roster in hiring personnel for international jobs.”51 The Creole Petroleum Corporation used this roster.52 In return, businesses helped support the IIE. As Pratt put it, “The willingness of business executives to conduct seminars, to take time to confer with visitors, to cooperate in every way from providing company limousines to hosting formal dinners—these are the things that make Houston one of the most popular places in the world for foreign visitors.”53 The connection between business and international education was made even clearer by a question posed in one University of Houston report: “In a city with extensive foreign trade and investment interests, in a country so involved in international events, in a world grown small by communications technology, how much should University of Houston students learn about other peoples and lands?”54 By the late 1950s, almost 1,500 international students were studying in Texas, placing Texas in the top ten states in numbers of visiting students. Students studied at a range of colleges, public and private, religious and secular, including Baylor University, Rice University, Southern Methodist University (SMU), Texas A&M, and the University of Texas in Austin.55 Students came from a wide range of countries, including Canada, China, Korea, India, Japan, the Philippines, Mexico, Iran, Greece, and Colombia.56 International students were firmly established on Texas’s college campuses, and international education was a familiar item of discussion in the state’s corporate boardrooms as well. EDUCATIONAL BENEFITS Promoting international education benefited the oil and oilfield services industry in many ways—not only because it gave them access to potential employees. Bringing international students to study in Texas universities reinforced the idea that the United States was the center of training and expertise, serving an integrated global economy rather than controlling that economy. The role of the United States as a technical advisor to the rest of the world—and the importance of this element of their education—was very clear to the students in Texas. P. Kurian Eapen, an Indian nuclear physics student, remarked, “We would not have dreamt of the equipment they have here in India. In India if this type of equipment needs adjusting there would be no one available and we would have to send for someone from Germany or the United States. Here in Dallas you have technicians on hand.”57 However, universities and executives alike hoped that students would return home to their native countries when they were finished with study in the United States. In 1968, SMU’s student newspaper proclaimed, “The 35 foreign students visiting Southern Methodist University during their Christmas holidays Sunday were living proof that the ‘brain drain’ theory may be going out of date. They said the popular notion that foreign students usually stay in the United States is false—at least as far as they’re concerned.” In addition to its Cold War message of free enterprise over communism, international education trained students in American business practices and techniques. SMU made a point to emphasize global trade among the international students. “In studying world trade problems, the students are guided by a trained faculty,” a Dallas journalist explained, in addition to “draw[ing] on the accumulated knowledge of many experienced men,” including “[e]xperts from the foreign department of Dallas banks, shipping firms, insurance companies and exporters and importers” who met with the students routinely.58 Here, too, trade and economic growth were the primary messages. Anuradha Ghandi, a student from India, remarked, “The major problem discussed in the seminars is economic development—everything else falls in line.”59 The influence of oil helped to determine both where the city’s international students came from and what they studied. In the 1958 academic year, SMU had 141 foreign students, 118 of them men. Almost seventy percent of the students studied law, engineering, and business.60 The University of Houston hosted ninety-two students from Africa and 154 from Europe, but 404 from Latin America, 563 from the Middle East, and 695 from East, South, and Southeast Asia.61 Among the most popular majors were business administration and engineering.62 And these numbers were rapidly increasing. Between fall 1968 and fall 1974, the international student population at University of Houston increased 137.3%, as compared with a 13.7% increase in overall student enrollment.63 Even more surprising was the timing of this upsurge. In the mid-1960s, private philanthropies were withdrawing funding for international education, and President Johnson failed to secure funding for his International Education Act, passed in 1966. International education proponents complained that “everyone with money [was] giving it to domestic problems” stemming from rebellions in American cities, while Johnson feared that his commitment to programs like international education was endangered by the spiraling costs of the war in Vietnam. At this precise moment, however, Texas oil companies were expanding their efforts to sponsor international students.64 This expansion of international education efforts while federal and philanthropic initiatives waned suggested the differences between the goals of Texas oil companies and those of other international education sponsors. First, Texas oil companies’ efforts to educate international students intersected with the aims of nationalists in oil-rich nations, where movement leaders often called for training non-American engineers and managers as a political goal.65As political scientist Robert Vitalis points out, this vision of nationalization became widespread in the late 1960s and early 1970s, following Saudi Arabian oil minister Abdallah Tariki’s 1963 demand for the end of Western control of the country’s oil industry. “A decade later his radical principle had become the new norm in the industry,” Vitalis explains, “and what would distinguish so-called radicals from moderates would be by what means—through decree or negotiations—and over what period of time the oil-producing states would take over the assets of the companies.”66 Texas-based companies invested in services were not the first to consider training as a response to these demands. Oil companies around the world promoted their commitment to local uplift by promising to prepare locals for management positions. As one retired ARAMCO executive put it, the company was dedicated to training “Saudis as quickly and as soundly as possible to operate the Saudi oil industry,” though Vitalis has found that this claim was not backed up by the institution of concrete programs, either in-house or through educational exchanges.67 While other oil companies had historically paid lip service to training programs, Texas-based oil companies in the 1960s and 1970s invested in education wholeheartedly because, for the first time, doing so directly benefitted their bottom lines. As Texas invested in selling services, training locals to work in the oil industry represented less of a threat. No longer did a trained local workforce represent the inevitability of oilfield nationalization; rather, as transnational providers of services, Texas firms would retain corporate control even while hiring locals to work under white American bosses overseas. Oddly, the objectives of nationalists and the objectives of Texas firms intersected at the point of technical education. Moreover, these scholarships marked a different approach to international education than business had developed in the past. The IIE explained that corporate sponsors usually provided programs in one of three categories: “employee development, employee relations, and community relations.” Established companies tended to offer scholarships to reward their loyal employees by offering access to a college education to their children. Other companies opted to offer education to students in the country where they operated so that they could garner support from the local public. But “the largest number provide education or technical training for employees and young trainees.” And “prominent among these employee development projects are several funded by petroleum companies active in Libya.” By 1976, employee development programs for Libyan students sponsored 178 students. The IIE’s 1974 annual report put it clearly: “IIE administered programs for 26 corporations and corporate foundations in 1974. These included a large group of professional development programs, many of which trained employees of overseas corporations in petroleum-related fields.”68 In other words, international university education represented not corporate philanthropy or a job benefit, but a means of job training. The historical literature has most often viewed international education through the lens of cultural diplomacy, as a means by which private foundations, religious organizations, and the state have sought to shape international attitudes toward Americans and the United States. As historian Justin Hart explains, public diplomacy, including educational partnerships, represented a promising option for American foreign relations. Through education, the state could further its mission of “[c]onverting people to an ‘American’ way of life,” which “held the promise of extending the influence of the United States while avoiding costly, atavistic exercises in military conquest. Simply put, Americanization became the antidote to colonization.”69 Within this framework, historian Liping Bu notes that, for a range of proponents of international education, “education was used as a vital channel to train the ‘future leaders of the world’ with American values and ideals … Knowledge—science, technology, and American know-how—empower[ed] American prestige as a modern and advanced nation applicable as a model for other nations in their aspirations for success.”70 Like the private philanthropies and federal programs that Bu studies, Texas oil companies invested in international education to boost “American prestige” in science, technology, and know-how. But their aim was not to provide a model that other nations might emulate. Instead, this strategy was a business plan to capture a specific market share, to present American expertise not as a model but as a product, an export. In this way, they worked in tandem with the official state mission of “mak[ing] the world understand the United States,” but their larger goal—the promotion of American companies as service providers to clients the world over—was not shared with the state. And, indeed, their mission to capture market share would prove much more successful, and less politically fraught, than the U.S. government’s efforts to “project favorable images of the United States” to the world.71 Indeed, oil and oilfield services companies’ financial support was often directly targeted towards groups they needed to train to work on their own international operations. In 1963, for instance, American Overseas Petroleum Ltd. sponsored fifteen men and one woman from Indonesia, Turkey, and Libya to study business administration, geology, geophysics, and petroleum engineering in the U.S. International Petroleum Company, Ltd. sponsored three Venezuelan students to study electrical engineering, international relations, and literature in 1964. Oasis Oil Company offered ten scholarships to Libyan students in 1966. In 1967, with the help of IIE, four Libyans visited Texas to conduct an “extensive study of …oil field operations.” The IIE also discussed with Peru’s state oil company how to “develop a program of technical and professional training in U.S. institutions” for their employees. In 1973, the IIE partnered with the Korean Ministry of Commerce and Industry to bring ten Korean public officials to the University of Texas, where they received “managerial and technical training in the petroleum industry.” In 1974, Tenneco Thailand Inc. sponsored scholarships for four Thai students to earn graduate degrees in the earth sciences. Among the 1974 IIE visitors to Houston were “ten representatives of the Oil and Gas Ministry of the U.S.S.R.” AMOCO International Oil Company sent students from Thai, Trinidad and Tobago to petroleum-related courses of study. Some of these students were employees of the company. ESSO Standard Libya’s employee development program sent fourteen students to study engineering, geology, and business administration through the IIE. Occidental Petroleum Corporation sent one Nigerian and one Peruvian student to study petroleum engineering in the United States and funded three students from Trinidad and Tobago to study petroleum engineering at the undergraduate level. Occidental Petroleum Corporation of Libya used the IIE to administer their trainee and employee development program. Phillips Petroleum Caribbean sent two students from Trinidad and Tobago to study petroleum engineering. By 1976, twenty-seven corporate sponsors provided scholarships to 441 international students. Sponsors included Tenneco, Exxon, Amoco, and Phillips.72 Petroleum-related businesses, then, marked a different approach to international education: using the university as a training ground for new employees. This use of international education was remarkable, too, because it signaled a new financing strategy for employee training. Partnerships with universities allowed corporations to write off their own training costs. A degree in petroleum engineering replaced on-the-job training, effectively outsourcing the private responsibility of job training to public institutions while purporting to promote a form of corporate benevolence. At the same time, encouraging international education often met foreign governments’ demands that oil companies hire residents of the nations in which they operated—and maintained control over the training students received while saving the company money.73 Not only was the oil industry’s relationship with the university profitable for corporations; it could prove beneficial to universities as well. President Hoffman of the University of Houston (UH) illustrated these transformations. Hoffman was appointed by President Johnson to represent the federal government at a Trade Fair in Algeria in June 1964, with the theme “Education for Progress.”74 USAID had previously invited Hoffman, a veteran of U.S.-sponsored international exchange programs, to contract with Peru to “provide technical assistance in establishing a Graduate School of Business Administration at Lima.” USAID hoped that this program would “make a major contribution to Peru by providing an expanded manpower base for new and existing industries.” UH already provided technical advice and professional assistance to Ecuador to build a Department of Chemical Engineering at the University of Guayaquil, as well as with the Universidad del Valle in Cali, Colombia and the Universidad do Brasil in Rio de Janeiro.75 In his trip to Algeria, Hoffman clearly saw how American expertise, American business, and the university went hand in hand: “The purpose of the United States participation in this fair is twofold: we want to demonstrate our interest in the Algerians’ problems, while illustrating that we have the capacity to answer these problems and we want to promote trade … . With the revolution and the exodus of French technicians, a critical need developed for Algerians trained in skills as humble as typing to say nothing of business management or industrial production. Unemployment is critical, with a volatile segment of the population idling on street corners, and this population is young.”76 In other words, American experts were needed to replace the French, yet these experts were tasked with not seeming imperial. The political economy of the Cold War helped to dramatically transform American universities. For the first time, vast sums of federal money were available to researchers, particularly in the sciences but also in the social sciences. And the state was not alone in bankrolling research. Even before the Cold War began, corporations and private foundations offered contributions to support research in the sciences and social sciences, and these nontraditional revenue streams reshaped academic hierarchies and gave new priority to the sciences. Moreover, universities leveraged new funding into status, a process which also changed the relationship of the university to the nation at large.77 Given this context, Hoffman might easily have been interpreted in Algeria as a representative of the state, a Cold Warrior sent to communicate American foreign policy objectives. But Hoffman avoided the appearance of being a government puppet—and dodged accusations of cultural imperialism—through his relationship with Houston oil. UH had two Algerian students when Hoffman departed Houston for the fair. Both had received IIE scholarships to study petroleum engineering in Houston.78 Ahmed Amari was a former primary school teacher who had earned a bachelor’s degree in Algeria and was studying to earn a master’s in petroleum engineering in Houston in hopes of becoming a government employee back home. Mohammed Tourane was the son of a farmer hoping to use his master’s in petroleum engineering to enter private industry.79 But Algerians knew of another more famous UH alum: Rachid Bestani, an Algerian graduate of UH with an master’s in chemistry. Bestani had returned to Algeria to work as an engineer at the Société de la Raffinerie D’Alger, Africa’s second-largest refinery. Bestani took Hoffman on a tour of the refinery, where 70 percent of the 250 employees were Algerian. Bestani, as an engineer, was the highest-ranked Algerian staff member. Hoffman noted, “U. of H. is very big here because this refinery is most important development in Algiers and he is key figure and highly respected.”80 Figure 2: View largeDownload slide Dr. Hoffman with UH alumnus Rachid Bestani. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (folder 9, box 60, President’s Office Collection). Figure 2: View largeDownload slide Dr. Hoffman with UH alumnus Rachid Bestani. Courtesy of Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (folder 9, box 60, President’s Office Collection). The University of Algiers saw the promise of American education as well. “In keeping with our policy of training the necessary personnel, we [the University of Algiers] have used all of the means at our disposal, and mobilized all of the energies to raise the technical level. Consonant with the path that the Algerian people have chosen, we have sent young Algerians for training to all countries that have wished to help us.”81 In other words, American education at institutions like UH was not a threat to Algerian independence but a boon. At a hospital luncheon in Hoffman’s honor, assembled Algerians wrote in English on a large blackboard “IN THE HOPE THAT PROFESSOR HOFFMAN WILL SOON AND OFTEN WISH YOUNG ALGERIANS WELCOME IN THE UNIVERSITY OF HOUSTON, WE WISH HIM HERE TODAY A MOST WARM WELCOME.” Theatrically, Hoffman walked up to the blackboard and responded in writing “VIVE ALGERIA and ALGERIAN-AMERICAN FRIENDSHIP.”82 He also brought UH promotional materials to Algeria.83 EDUCATION AND THE COLOR LINE Beyond the tangible economic benefit of relying on public institutions to provide job training, promoting international education carried other clear benefits as well. In the context of decolonization and global civil rights movements, corporate and state leaders were increasingly wary of accusations of racism in foreign affairs.84 As Undersecretary of State George W. Ball told the National Retail Merchants Association in 1963, “The principle which underlay most of the colonial arrangements was the arrogant assumption of the ‘white man’s burden,’ an attitude which for generations misled the governors and offended the governed. But now the notion of white supremacy is nearing its final days in international relations.” Sponsoring international students from around the world seemed, to many Houston oil executives, a perfect way to combat accusations of white supremacy. Crucially, the arrival of large numbers of international students in Houston in the 1950s and 1960s coincided with the growing visibility of the city’s civil rights movement. The presence of racialized international students, particularly those from Africa, Asia, and Latin America, presented the city’s proponents of international education with an opportunity to demonstrate their purportedly progressive stance on racial egalitarianism—even though these same people were often quite resistant to the demands of black and Latino Houstonians.85 Unsurprisingly, international students coming to Texas arrived with trepidation about the South’s racial discrimination, and the IIE and Houston businesspeople tried to convince them otherwise. In some cases, they succeeded. As one constituent explained to Congressional Representative Kay Bailey, “They had been warned to go north if they were black. A young man from Lagos, Nigeria told me that he almost froze last winter in Ohio where he was in school AND that the people were not friendly as they are in Texas.”86 At the same time, racial boundaries often remained quite stark. The IIE tended to exoticize particularly students from the global South, even going so far as to treat them as servants or performers at IIE fundraisers. At the first International Fair Scholarship Ball, a fundraiser for IIE, students “attend[ed] wearing native folk costumes” while Houston residents donned black tie attire.87 At another luncheon benefit, students “dressed in costumes of their native lands” while working as hostesses, serving the event’s patrons.88 In theory, oilfield services companies’ business model imagined international students as potential employees or oilfield clients, equals in the oil marketplace. But Houston oil and university executives did not believe this theory conflicted with exoticizing their sponsored students. “It is largely by knowing him that the American comes to know his colleague’s country, customs, and history,” university administrators argued; “in addition to taking back to his country technical knowledge from the university he attends in America, he also brings to the American campus the rich folk lore and traditions of his own country.”89 In other words, students exchanged their local color for American expertise; their exoticism was their currency. For all their condescension, universities and oil executives alike took great pains to make sure that students understood that they saw them as future leaders and as clients. In 1966, SMU hosted a summer program for fifteen IIE-sponsored students identified as “potential leaders of their native developing countries” hailing from countries including Nigeria, Jordan, and India. Dorothy Kpojime, a student from Nigeria, explained that “The seminars here are designed to give us a general idea of what would be the best thing for us to do for our country if we were there … . When we return, we will know what advice to give our countrymen.”90 Students like Kpojime hoped—and had reason to believe—that studying in Texas would forge lasting relationships with Houston companies as well as leverage back home. One case study illustrates these intersections among business, the state, the university, and international students. In June 1962, IIE’s Houston’s office hosted a Summer Crossroads program, in which twenty-nine international students “who had finished their studies at U.S. universities and were on their way home” visited Houston for a week-long “discussion of American life, the students’ experiences in this country and their views of the U.S.” In partnership with Rice University, the IIE brought business leaders and educators to meet with the students for sessions on Rice’s campus. Students lived in home stays with Houston host families during their visit. Students came from Europe, Morocco, Brazil, Japan, Pakistan, Palestine, Iran, India, Jordan, Ceylon, Libya, and Chile and declared majors ranging from business administration to political science, theater, and engineering.91 The program was funded through donations from Continental Oil Company, Humble Oil and Refining Company, and the Texas Gulf Producing Company, which paid for the students to travel to Houston from their universities across the country. In fact, Lawrence S. Reed of Texas Gulf Producing Company spearheaded raising the funds.92 The program opened with a forum on Free Enterprise and Economic Development, led by Richard Gonzalez, the Director of Finance and Economics for Humble Oil; Lovett Peters, a vice-president at Continental; and Gaston V. Rimlinger, Associate Professor of Economics at Rice. The panelists presented an unsurprising Cold War vision of free enterprise to the students, referring to “two opposite economic systems: that of free enterprise and that of state control and direction,” which “modern societies must choose between.”93 Texas itself, the panelists argued, provided a perfect demonstration of free enterprise: “Our State of Texas is an eloquent example of the complete transformation of a region by the use of capital investment to develop its resources, attract growth of population, raise educational and cultural standards of life all around.”94 This kind of Cold War language was to be expected, but students also received a more direct education in American business life. The students took a tour of the Shell Oil Company Refinery in Deer Park and toured the Houston Ship Channel.95 Moreover, students were urged to consider the work of scientists and engineers as a “labor of love,” performed out of duty and devotion rather than for pay. For instance, Marty Byrnes, Center Operations Manager of NASA, delivered a lecture in which he told students that NASA was headquartered in Texas because of the “suitable climate for year-round operation,” the “good port,” “free land for the project,” and “closeness to a good university of graduate studies and research in the sciences and technology.” In addition, NASA was an example of the selflessness of scientific professionals. “It has become a labor of love and unremitting toil,” the speaker told the students. “The men work overtime on their own.”96 The students were also instructed in American racial politics. The program concluded with a forum entitled “The American Scene: A Kaleidoscopic View,” with panelists Ross Baker, an independent oil operator and Congressional candidate; Dr. J. Reuben Sheeler, the African American head of the department of History and Geography at Texas Southern University; and Trenton W. Wann, an Assistant Professor of Psychology at Rice.97 The American Kaleidoscope turned out to be dizzying. Conservative white politician and oilman Baker wanted students to understand arguments for states’ rights in the context of desegregation and urban renewal. Students asked why President Kennedy’s attempt to create a new cabinet position, Housing and Urban Development, with African American housing expert Robert Weaver at the helm, had drawn strong Congressional opposition. Baker admitted—in passive voice—that “racial prejudice was a strong factor here,” but that “many statesmen objected to Federal intrusion into problems of urban renewal, which, as he thought, should remain under local control and direction.” In fact, Baker argued that, “[f]rom the beginning the American idea was ‘no excess of government.’”98 At the same time, the organizers obviously intended this forum—with its inclusion of Sheeler, the only African American on the program—to assuage foreign students’ concerns about the color line in the United States. Sheeler, in addition to teaching at TSU (where he would go on to be president) was also the Consul between Texas and Haiti and a Cultural Specialist for the State Department. As a Cultural Specialist, Sheeler was tasked with addressing foreign audiences about the state of race and African Americans in the United States.99 When students asked the panel to “state plainly” how the federal government would deal with desegregation and racial equality in the United States, Dr. Sheeler responded in “very dispassionate terms,” telling students that “[s]egregation … is dead, that is to say it is now going through the dying process. It is being slowly but surely destroyed by the better conscience of the American people. But such radical changes in our social texture require time for their full accomplishment. We should look at the whole process more reasonably.”100 Moreover, residents of the wealthiest Houston neighborhoods served as the hosts for the international students, bringing into stark relief the role that students of color played in the Houston racial landscape. In the early 1960s, Houston was slowly beginning to desegregate, and the city’s formal leaders remained white.101 While wealthy white Houstonians often starkly opposed labor civil rights activism in the city’s factories, they performatively opened their homes to international students who came to the city to study engineering and management.102 A white person’s home could be a site of exotic exchange with students from the global South, who seemed more like diplomats than neighbors; but the same consideration could not be extended to black and Latino Houstonians. Figure 3: View largeDownload slide This map shows the addresses of the host families who housed international students during Summer Crossroads (black dots) superimposed on a map showing the relative household incomes of neighborhoods in Houston in 1960 (the darkest shading indicates the largest proportions of households earning more than $15,000 per year). The students were housed in the wealthiest neighborhoods of the city, indicating both the socioeconomic status of IIE members and the version of Houston students were shown. Sources: 1960 Census data; “Summer Crossroads, 1962,” Report, Publication, FL. This map was created using ArcGIS® software by Esri. ArcGIS® and ArcMap™ are the intellectual property of Esri and are used herein under license. Copyright © Esri. All rights reserved. For more information about Esri® software, please visit www.esri.com. Figure 3: View largeDownload slide This map shows the addresses of the host families who housed international students during Summer Crossroads (black dots) superimposed on a map showing the relative household incomes of neighborhoods in Houston in 1960 (the darkest shading indicates the largest proportions of households earning more than $15,000 per year). The students were housed in the wealthiest neighborhoods of the city, indicating both the socioeconomic status of IIE members and the version of Houston students were shown. Sources: 1960 Census data; “Summer Crossroads, 1962,” Report, Publication, FL. This map was created using ArcGIS® software by Esri. ArcGIS® and ArcMap™ are the intellectual property of Esri and are used herein under license. Copyright © Esri. All rights reserved. For more information about Esri® software, please visit www.esri.com. Students’ receptions were hard to track, but they declared the session on free enterprise and economic development as their favorite.103 In a survey, they suggested that future forum topics should include discrimination in the South as well as U.S. aid to underdeveloped nations.104 In future years, students requested the chance to “visit or tour … lower and middle income housing areas.”105 The Summer Crossroads program made clear the centrality of the oil industry to Houston’s international student program, but it also demonstrated that students were not completely convinced by the programming they were presented. Educating international students in Texas aimed to convince African, Asian, Latin American, and Middle Eastern students that the oil industry would allow them the same opportunities as their white American counterparts. And education, imagined as an opportunity to nurture one’s knowledge, sought to soften the hard edge of American global power. At the same time, oil and oilfield services companies’ investment in education cemented Houston as the headquarters of oil expertise and made Texas the conduit through which all aspiring engineers needed to pass. The expansion of international education in Houston aimed to give the international oil industry a benevolent veneer. However, labor conditions for blue-collar oil workers the world over were poorly remunerated and dangerous, even while oilfield services companies made unprecedented profits as the Cold War progressed. In Vietnam, for instance, Brown & Root had leveraged its experience constructing offshore oil bases and its privileged relationship with President Johnson into a contract constructing military bases. Brown & Root first came to Vietnam in August 1965, when President Johnson declared an escalation of the war effort. In two years, the company with other contractors built over a billion dollars’ worth of construction, including “airfields, headquarters, [and] barracks.” They also built two ports, a military headquarters complex, a U.S. Embassy, and “even some of those Saigon streets.”106 As historian James Carver has argued, “the war in Vietnam resulted not from outside aggression, but from the failure of the six-year effort to build a viable state infrastructure around the regime in Saigon,” including “building ports and airfields, hospitals, and schools; dredging canals and harbors to create a transportation grid; [and] constructing an elaborate network of modern roadways,” making the company a crucial component of the war effort.107 In 1966, Brown & Root employees peaked at 51,000, just 4,100 of them Americans; the rest were skilled Korean and Filipino workers and 41,000 unskilled Vietnamese.108 American engineers in Vietnam were exempt from income tax if they stayed abroad for eighteen months.109 By contrast, Brown & Root underpaid Vietnamese workers. The average monthly wage in Vietnam in 1966 was $35, but unskilled Vietnamese generally earned about $21 per month, or 8 cents an hour for a 60-hour week. American employees of the company, by contrast, earned “an average nearly 60 times the wage of Vietnamese laborers.” As Ramparts put it, “The wage differential—4,100 Americans with monthly earnings over $5 million; 41,000 Vietnamese drawing $1.4 million a month—is comparable only to the white-colored pay differential in South Africa.”110 Brown & Root hired their Vietnamese staff from internment camps, “most of whom had been either forcibly removed from their homes in NLF-controlled areas in preparation for a U.S.-allied attack, or driven out by U.S. bombs.”111 As one Brown & Root construction employee told a reporter, “Half our Vietnamese work force are VC, come to work in the morning half-asleep because they’ve been up all night shooting mortars, and they steal us blind. But Brown & Root don’t care: they’d build bases for the devil himself if the fee was good.”112 In May 1966, Vietnamese workers struck eleven times. Workers reported that Americans beat Vietnamese workers and once even shot and killed a worker.113 In the meantime, Brown & Root earned a $6 million profit.114 Given these abuses—which the social movements of the 1960s were bringing to light, including in the pages of Ramparts—softening oilfield services companies’ image was more crucial than ever. The relationship of international education with women and hospitality domesticated U.S. foreign power, making it safe rather than threatening. One student, Mehdi Vossoughi, met a Texas family who had spent time in Iran, likely because of their relationship with the country’s oil industry. Rather than interpreting this relationship as a business or imperial circumstance, Vossoughi saw it through the lens of domesticity: “I lived with the Youngers, who were very nice people. It really surprised me to learn that Mr. Younger had been in my home town in Iran. The Youngers had two sons who both have wonderful personalities. I began to imagine that I was in my home in Iran.”115 Women’s groups like the IIE helped to domesticate the oil industry, to make its impact palatable to a variety of constituents. Women supporters of the global oil industry made the entire enterprise seem less dangerously imperial, much as women’s domesticity did in the burgeoning American empire of the 1840s.116 However, if the oilfield services industry was to rely on a discourse of service to make its empire safe, it would also have to rebrand service as sufficiently masculine for its largely male workforce to abide. Schlumberger responded to this conundrum by emphasizing the kind of manhood that service engendered. “As a Schlumberger engineer, you will have more responsibility and authority than can be found in any similar position in the petroleum industry.” The company told its employees, “At Schlumberger, you will hold the key to your future.”117 But this authority lay in service: “You will be joining a team of professionals dedicated to customer service. Your talent and professional skills will help us meet our customers’ needs.”118 The company required engineers on overseas assignment in the Eastern Hemisphere and South America to be unmarried for the first fifteen months spent abroad; but the work of domesticity was effectively being done at home.119 Oil companies’ sponsorship of international students in Texas helped to engender a new cultural understanding of the U.S. corporation’s role on the world stage. In this new vision, the corporation was reimagined as truly global. No longer were American companies merely tasked with exporting domestically produced products abroad, or extracting raw materials abroad for manufacture at home. Instead, an American corporation could hire and manage employees anywhere in the world. The shift from direct control over oil production to a corporate strategy of oilfield service provision was coupled with a new discourse that framed the sale of American expertise not as benevolence but as a simple marketplace exchange. Meeting at the market, this narrative posited, oilfield services providers and oilfield owners were equals. This vision promised to replace an old order of American and European dominance with a new one suited for a postcolonial era—while Texas got to keep the profits. In the coming decades, this vision would be both challenged and more deeply entrenched. But as the Cold War thawed, R. E. Smith’s vision of foreign affairs would prove more lasting than that his Cold Warrior contemporaries. Footnotes 1 “Giving Latin Students a Taste of Texas,” Business Week, August 25, 1956. 2 Ibid. 3 Penny Von Eschen, Satchmo Blows Up the World: Jazz Ambassadors Play the Cold War (Cambridge, MA, 2004). 4 David Ekbladh, The Great American Mission: Modernization and the Construction of an American World Order (Princeton, NJ, 2010); Nils Gilman, Mandarins of the Future: Modernization Theory in Cold War America (Baltimore, MD, 2003); Michael E. Latham, Modernization as Ideology: American Social Science and ‘Nation Building’ in the Kennedy Era (Chapel Hill, NC, 2000); Nick Cullather, The Hungry World: America’s Cold War Battle Against Poverty in Asia (Cambridge, MA, 2010). 5 Daniel Yergin, The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money and Power (New York, 1991); Timothy Mitchell, Carbon Democracy: Political Power in the Age of Oil (Brooklyn, NY, 2011). 6 See, for instance, Christina Klein, Cold War Orientalism: Asia in the Middlebrow Imagination, 1945–1961 (Berkeley, CA, 2003); Naoko Shibusawa, America’s Geisha Ally: Re-Imagining the Japanese Enemy (Cambridge, MA, 2006). For a longer view of the twentieth century, see also Victoria de Grazia, Irresistible Empire: America’s Advance Through Twentieth Century Europe (Cambridge, MA, 2005). 7 Jonathan Zimmerman, Innocents Abroad: American Teachers in the American Century (Cambridge, MA, 2006); Liping Bu, Making the World Like Us: Education, Cultural Expansion, and the American Century (Westport, CT, 2003); Ting Ni, The Cultural Experiences of Chinese Students Who Studied in the United States during the 1930s–1940s (Lewiston, NY, 2002); Whitney Walton, Internationalism, National Identities, and Study Abroad: France and the United States, 1890–1970 (Stanford, CA, 2010); Talya Zemach-Bersin, “Global Citizenship & Study Abroad: It’s All About U.S.,” Critical Literacy: Theories and Practices 1, no. 2 (December 2007): 16–28. See also Richard T. Arndt, The First Resort of Kings: American Cultural Diplomacy in the Twentieth Century (Dulles, VA, 2005). 8 One significant exception is Jenifer Van Vleck, Empire of the Air: Aviation and the American Ascendancy (Cambridge, MA, 2013). 9 The one notable exception is Bethany Moreton’s work on Wal-Mart’s investment in Christian business education for American and Latin American students (although this corporate priority emerged in the 1970s and 1980s, when Cold War rhetoric was less influential). See Moreton, To Serve God and Wal-Mart: The Making of Christian Free Enterprise (Cambridge, MA, 2009). 10 Emily Rosenberg, Financial Missionaries to the World: The Politics and Culture of Dollar Diplomacy, 1900–1930 (Durham, NC, 2003). 11 David Ekbladh, The Great American Mission: Modernization and the Construction of an American World Order (Princeton, NJ, 2010), 3. 12 Niall Ferguson, “Crisis, What Crisis?: The 1970s and the Shock of the Global,” in The Shock of the Global: The 1970s in Perspective, Niall Ferguson, et al. (Cambridge, MA, 2010), 16. 13 Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 10. 14 Patty Limerick, “Fencing in the Past,” Diplomatic History 36, no. 3 (June 2012): 507. 15 Railroad Commission of Texas, “Crude Oil Production and Well Counts (since 1935),” accessed September 29, 2015, http://www.rrc.state.tx.us/oil-gas/research-and-statistics/production-data/historical-production-data/crude-oil-production-and-well-counts-since-1935/. 16 Yergin, The Prize. 17 “Logistical Engineering,” Port of Houston Magazine 2, no. 1 (November 1948): 1; Tyler Priest and Michael Botson, “Bucking the Odds: Organized Labor in Gulf Coast Oil Refining,” Journal of American History 99, no. 1 (June 2012): 100–10. 18 The Seven Sisters included the Standard Oil Company of New Jersey (later Exxon), the Standard Oil Company of New York (Socony, later Mobil, which eventually merged with Exxon), the Standard Oil Company of California (Socal, later renamed Chevron), the Texas Oil Company (later renamed Texaco), Gulf Oil (which later merged with Chevron), Anglo-Persian (later British Petroleum), and Royal Dutch/Shell. See “Milestones: 1921–1936,” U.S. Department of State Office of the Historian, accessed September 29, 2015, http://history.state.gov/milestones/1921-1936/RedLine. 19 Dr. F. G. Baptista, “The Importance of Conservation Plant ‘Tia Juana No. 1,’” Talk Presented at the Rotary Club in Maracaibo, January 4, 1955, Creole Petroleum Corporation, 3, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, Woodson Research Center, Fondren Library (hereafter FL), Rice University, Houston, Texas. 20 Ibid. 21 Guillermo Zuloaga, “Influence of the Petroleum Industry on the Economy of Venezuela,” Presented to Inter-American Conference of Commerce and India, Houston, Texas, April 23, 1952, 2, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL; “Venezuela in Brief,” Creole in Venezuela (February 1953), 5, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL; Dr. F. G. Baptista, “The Importance of Conservation Plant ‘Tia Juana No. 1.’” 22 “Venezuela Taking Two Sun Firms,” Sun News 29, no. 10 (October 1975): 1. 23 Ibid. 24 George Brown to Guillermo Zuloaga, April 9, 1954, folder 5, box 36, Brown & Root Collection, FL. 25 Institute of International Education (hereafter IIE), “A Brief History of IIE,” accessed September 29, 2015, http://www.iie.org/Who-We-Are/History. 26 Thomas S. Sutherland, “Institute of International Education,” 1953, folder 9, box 1, League of Women Voters Collection, Houston Metropolitan Research Center (hereafter HMRC), Houston, Texas. 27 Ibid. 28 Institute of International Education Monthly Report, April–May 1952, box 3M446, Jesse H. Jones Papers, Dolph Briscoe Center, University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas. 29 Port of Houston Magazine (October 1973): 29. 30 IIE Annual Reports, 1952–1964, IIE Annual Report, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 31 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided by Institute of International Education,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970): 16–19. 32 Institute of International Education, Monthly Report (November 1952), Jesse Jones Papers, Briscoe Research Center, University of Texas at Austin, Austin, Texas. 33 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 34 Ibid. 35 Institute of International Education, “Program: Third Annual Southwest Regional Dinner” (December 14, 1955), folder 2, box 47, Oveta Culp Hobby Papers (hereafter Hobby Papers), FL. 36 Facts and Information about the Institute of International Education, n.d., folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 37 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 38 Ibid. 39 Oveta Culp Hobby, Introductory Remarks, Third Annual Southwest Educational Exchange Dinner of the Institute of International Education (December 14, 1955), folder 2, box 7, Hobby Papers, FL. 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid. 42 George Corless to Oveta Culp Hobby, September 28, 1955, folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 43 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 44 Ibid. 45 Facts and Information about the Institute of International Education, n.d., folder 2, box 47, Hobby Papers, FL. 46 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid. 49 Port of Houston Magazine (May 1955): 44. 50 Hobby, Introductory Remarks, Hobby Papers, FL. 51 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 52 IIE Annual Reports, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 53 “Many Foreign Visitors Are Aided,” Port of Houston Magazine (September 1970). 54 “A Curriculum Proposal for a Cross Cultural World Community Program,” 10, folder 32, box 29, University of Houston President’s Office Collection (hereafter UH President’s Office Collection), Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries (hereafter UH). 55 Institute of International Education Annual Report, 1952, Institute of International Education Annual Reports, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 56 Houston Institute of International Education, All Around the Region (August 1957). 57 Southern Methodist University, “Endowed Scholarships,” 1986, 6, in “Financial Aid 1980–1987 (including scholarships)” folder, box 13, Student Activity Records, Southern Methodist University DeGolyer Library (hereafter SMU); “Indian Impressed by Labs at SMU,” clipping, n.d., “SMU Foreign Students (International Students)” folder, box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 58 John D. Badwey, “World Trade Ideas Spawned at SMU,” clipping, n.d., “SMU Foreign Students (International Students)” folder, box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 59 Ann Worley, “SMU ‘Summer Home’ to Foreign Students,” Dallas Times Herald, June 24, 1966. 60 “Statistics Concerning Foreign Students Enrolled in S.M.U.,” 1958–1959, folder “SMU Foreign Students (International Students),” box 3, Student Activity Records, SMU. 61 “Roster by Country,” folder 32, box 29, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 62 Ibid. 63 “Proposal for Changing Admission Requirements for Undergraduate International Students (Effective Spring 1976 Semester),” folder 32, box 29, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 64 Bu, Making the World Like Us, 237–42. 65 Robert Vitalis, America’s Kingdom: Mythmaking on the Saudi Oil Frontier (Brooklyn, NY, 2009), 24. 66 Ibid., 14. 67 Ibid., 25. 68 IIE Annual Report 1976, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 69 Justin Hart, Empire of Ideas: The Origins of Public Diplomacy and the Transformation of U.S. Foreign Policy (New York, 2013), 9. 70 Bu, Making the World Like Us, 2. 71 Ibid., 7. 72 IIE Annual Reports, 1963–1976, accessed May 2, 2017, https://www.iie.org/en/Why-IIE/Annual-Report. 73 For an introduction to this issue, see Vitalis, America’s Kingdom, 24, 97. 74 Luther H. Hodges to Philip Hoffman, May 26, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 75 Philip Hoffman to Louis A. Rouse, August 30, 1962, folder 7, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. For more examples of these kinds of university-state partnerships, see James M. Carver, Inventing Vietnam: The United States and State Building, 1954–1968 (New York, 2008). 76 Charles H. Clarke to Philip Hoffman, June 1, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 77 Rebecca S. Lowen, Creating the Cold War University: The Transformation of Stanford (Berkeley, CA, 1997). For more on the Cold War university see also David Engerman, “Rethinking Cold War Universities: Some Recent Histories,” Journal of Cold War Studies 5, no. 3 (Summer 2003): 80–95; Noam Chomsky, et al., The Cold War and the University: Towards an Intellectual History of the Postwar Years (New York, 1997); Ron Robin, Making the Cold War Enemy: Culture and Politics in the Military-Industrial Complex (Princeton, NJ, 2001); Christopher Simpson, ed., Universities and Empire: Money and Politics in the Social Sciences during the Cold War (New York, 1998); Margaret O’Mara, Cities of Knowledge: Cold War Science and the Search for the Next Silicon Valley (Princeton, NJ, 2005). 78 Jeanne T. Pfeifer to Philip Hoffman, June 22, 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 79 Ibid. 80 “Excerpts from PGH Letters from Algeria,” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH; “Highlights of Dr. Hoffman’s Program,” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 81 “Remarks by President Ben Bella at Inaugural of American Exhibit ‘Education for Progress,’” folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 82 “Highlights of Dr. Hoffman’s Program,” UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 83 Charles H. Clarke to Philip Hoffman, 15 June 1964, folder 9, box 60, UH President’s Office Collection, UH. 84 Mary Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy (Princeton, NJ, 2000). 85 See, for instance, Michael J. Botson, Jr., Labor, Civil Rights, and the Hughes Tool Company (College Station, TX, 2005). 86 Nell Norman to Kay Bailey, February 27, 1973, “Education - Higher” folder, box 1, Kay Bailey Collection, HMRC. 87 Port of Houston Magazine, September 1961, 9–11. 88 “Languages Mingle at IIE Colorful Luncheon Benefit,” Houston Chronicle, Institute of International Education Clipping File, Houston Chronicle Morgue, HMRC. 89 Cosmo Dispatch (March 1959). 90 “Summer Students,” Dallas Times Herald, June 24, 1966. 91 “Summer Crossroads, 1962” Report, Publication, 35, FL. 92 Ibid., 1. 93 Ibid., 10. 94 Ibid., 11. 95 Ibid., 3, 4. 96 Ibid., 22. 97 Ibid., 6. 98 Ibid., 26. 99 “J. Reuben Sheeler Collection: An Inventory of his Records at the Houston Metropolitan Research Center, Houston Public Library,” accessed March 10, 2017, http://www.lib.utexas.edu/taro/houpub/00067/hpub-00067.html. 100 “Summer Crossroads,” 26, FL. 101 William Henry Keller, Make Haste Slowly: Moderates, Conservatives, and School Desegregation in Houston (College Station, TX, 1999); Guadalupe San Miguel Jr., Brown, Not White: School Integration and the Chicano Movement in Houston (College Station, TX, 2001). 102 Michael R. Botson, Jr., Labor, Civil Rights, and the Hughes Tool Company (College Station, TX, 2005). 103 “Evaluations of Summer Crossroads,” Publication, FL. 104 Ibid. 105 Ibid., 2. 106 David Welsh, “Building Lyndon Johnson,” Ramparts (December 1967), 61. 107 Carver, Inventing Vietnam, 6–7. 108 Ibid., 62. 109 Ibid. 110 Ibid. 111 Ibid. 112 Ibid., 61. 113 Ibid. 114 Ibid. 115 Around the Region (December 1957). 116 Amy Kaplan, “Manifest Domesticity,” from The Anarchy of Empire in the Making of U.S. Culture (Cambridge, MA, 2005). 117 Schlumberger pamphlet, n.d., folder 1, box 1, H. David Kaplan Schlumberger Collection, UH. 118 Ibid. 119 Ibid. © The Author 2017. Published by Oxford University Press on behalf of the Society for Historians of American Foreign Relations. All rights reserved. For permissions, please e-mail: journals.permissions@oup.com.

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Diplomatic HistoryOxford University Press

Published: Apr 1, 2018

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