Disney’s philosophy was quintessentially American. That is not to say that all Americans agreed with him, but rather that anyone hearing his philosophy would recognize the American influence. The belief in the power of the self-made man reaches deep into the history of the nation. Disney admired the power of the individual to help himself, and his belief was justified for him based on his own experience: Roberts and Olson describe Disney as “bumping out of Midwestern poverty” (Roberts and Olson 230). In a wonderfully revealing quote (not to mention surprising—could one imagine Mickey Mouse saying such a thing?), Disney proclaims:
“It’s the law of the universe that the strong shall survive and the weak must fall by the way, and I don’t give a damn what idealistic plan is cooked up, nothing can change that.” (233)
There it is, his philosophy laid bare. In short, it is a vigorous justification of capitalism, and the “idealistic plan” could be nothing other than the Cold War threat of communism. Perhaps a moment of passion spurred such a blunt declaration. After all, Disney was outraged at the unions who smeared his name. Indignant at the affront of labor against management, Disney believed that “the entire mess was communistically inspired and led” (234). So it seems that the union debacle intensified Disney’s original belief in the goodness of the individual. For Disney now, the individual was not only good, but almost sacred, and he must fight with all vigor to maintain his independence.
Roberts and Olson argue that a part of this transformation was the emergence of Donald Duck, who represented Disney’s frustration with bureaucracy and his affection for strong willed individuals who can independently take matters into their own hands. If this is the case, then we can see Disney’s Davy Crockett, supremely individual and American, as an extension of this trend.
But here we encounter a strange paradox, something that was always a bit of a confusion for American ideology: How can one support both the individual and the group simultaneously? It was a problem faced by the founding fathers when they emphasized personal liberties but also needed to maintain a stable government. The Cold Warriors faced the same dilemma: For them the individual triumphed over the group, yet at the same time it was necessary to stick together as Americans. Disney surely must have recognized that to some extent the individuals must act like a collective if they want to win. If this is true, then we can see a perfect reflection of Disney’s vision for America in his Davy Crockett. Not only is his Davy a hardworking, independent self-made man—he also decides to go to Texas, against the advice of Georgie, because there are “Americans in trouble” (242). The resolution of the conflict between individual and group—in short embracing them both and simply disregarding the logical gap—was likely necessary for America to win the Cold War. So Disney thought, and so thought his Crockett.