WORLD WAR I AND ITS AFTERMATH

A little later, an earlier pamphlet written in 1916, called Imperialism—the Highest Stage of Capitalism, was translated into English. It is here, in his introduction to the first Russian edition, that Lenin referred to the necessity of formulating his few observations on Russian politics “with extreme caution, by hints, in that Aesopian language— in that cursed Aesopian language—to which tsarism compelled all revolutionaries to have recourse.” I gave no special thought to this at the time. I knew how Irish songs like “Dark Rosaleen” and “Kathleen-ni- Houlihan” referred to Ireland and “Spanish ale will give you hope!” meant help was coming to the revolutionaries from Spain. In all oppressed countries such figure of speech were necessary. Little did I think that this phrase, “Aesopian language,” would be twisted and perverted 30 odd years later in a Federal Court in Foley Square in New York City by a renegade stool pigeon, Louis Budenz, to convict Communists, myself included, accused under the thought-control Smith Act.

In recalling the onslaught of the Palmer Raids, the deportation drives and state syndicalist prosecutions after World War I, it would be a serious mistake not to see the other side of the picture—the magnificent fight-back spirit of the American workers at that time. In addition to the above repressive government efforts, there was a vicious drive against the trade unions by Big Business all over the country in a cam

This was followed in March 1918 by Judge Altschuler, wartime administrator of the packing industry, granting 85 per cent of their additional demands, which included 10 per cent to 25 per cent wage increases, an eight-hour day with ten hours’ pay, extra pay for overtime, equal pay for men and women, a guarantee of five days’ work a week, and lunch periods with pay. Even today, these would be substantial gains. To top it off, the awards were retroactive; 125,000 Chicago workers received six million dollars in back pay—and a few overcoats and hats were then possible for the packinghouse workers. This victory thrilled and encouraged the members of the entire labor movement. It prepared them for the postwar struggles, the greatest of which was led by Foster in 1919-20.

While Bill Foster was listening to the arbitration hearings on packing he had a plan in his pocket for organizing steel, citadel of the open shop. Representatives of 15 international unions were called together by the Chicago Federation of Labor. Samuel Gompers, president of the AFL said skeptically, “Well, Brother Foster, what do you propose?” The 15 unions grudgingly agreed to a federated campaign and pledged the ridiculous sum of $100 each. Foster was made the unpaid secretary of the National Committee for Organizing Iron and Steel Workers. Fortunately, his own union, the Railway Carmen, paid his salary as an organizer. He remarked with justifiable bitterness, “You would think we were setting out to organize a bunch of peanut stands instead of a half a million workers.” Gompers never spoke at a steel workers’ meeting. Finally, he resigned as chairman of the committee and appointed John Fitzpatrick in his place.

However, Foster was not easily discouraged. He had faith in the

Judge Gary, arrogant president of the U.S. Steel Corporation, tried to head off the organization drive among steel workers. He ordered a basic national eight-hour day, which he referred to contemptuously as, “Give them an extra cup of rice!” On October 1, 1918, Foster and his corps of organizers moved into the heart of steel—Pittsburgh, “The Iron City”—which is surrounded by a ring of what were then company towns, Aliquippa, Ambridge, Duquesne, McKeesport, Clairton, Homestead, Donora, Johnstown and others. The going was rough. In the course of the drive, 30,000 workers were fired. The KKK appeared and the spy system spread. Speech and assemblage were suppressed and the workers were held in a state of industrial peonage. Organizers were jailed and beaten up. Foster, Mother Jones and others were arrested and driven out of town. Mayor Crawford of Duquesne, called “The Toad” by the workers, remarked when he heard that Rabbi Stephen Wise of New York was to speak at a free speech protest meeting: “Jesus Christ himself could not speak here for the A. F. of L.!”

There were 33 nationality groups involved in the drive, many foreign-born, brought directly from Ellis Island to these industrial prisons. As in our IWW textile strikes a few years earlier, language was a tremendous problem for the organizers at meetings and in literature. Foster, like Haywood, trained the organizers to use simple nontechnical speech, and to speak slowly, and distinctly, repeating the main ideas. Many foreign-speaking workers began to learn English at these meetings, an “Americanization” by-product of the strike.


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WORLD WAR I AND ITS AFTERMATH

A barrage of redbaiting was let loose on Foster. A Senate Investigation Committee did not concern itself with the many just grievances and indescribably bad working and living conditions of the workers, some of whom were huddled in barracks. Nor did they concern themselves with the brutality of the Coal and Iron Constabulary (later abolished by Governor Pinchot), nor with the violations of all constitutional rights. No, their main concern was to picture Foster as the chief Red in America, who was using the strike to start a revolution. His previous activities as an IWW and a syndicalist and all his writings were featured in newspaper scareheads. He was charged with being a “Bolshevik”—then the last word in redbaiting.

But Foster proceeded on his determined path, in his characteristically quiet and systematic manner. By June 1919, over 100,000 workers were in the union, which made a demand on Judge Gary for collective bargaining. He ignored the letter. A strike vote registered 98 per cent in favor. On September 22, 1919, approximately 304,000 workers quit the steel mills. By September 30, there were 367,000 out on strike in 50 cities in ten states. The giant industry stopped; the fires went out, blast furnaces ceased to roar, the red glow that filled the skies for miles, faded; smoke and gas no longer polluted the atmosphere. The great life-giving force, the workers, had gone out of the vast plants.

A reign of terror was then let loose on the strikers. The steel areas were overrun by police, deputy sheriffs, state troopers and strike breakers who were brought in under their protection. Picketing was forbidden and strikers who attempted to picket were arrested and beaten. Twenty-two workers laid down their lives in this great struggle. No mass meetings or union meetings were permitted during the four months of the strike. The workers maintained a magnificent unity as long as humanly possible, and were supported in a spirit of solidarity by other workers all over the country. Outstanding were the contributions of the needle-trades workers of New York City, who sent their brothers in steel $180,000.

But terror and hunger, and the indifference, even sabotage, of the official Gompers machine of the AFL finally crushed the heroic effort. However, as often happens in what are called “lost strikes,” it had cost the employers dearly and they were forced to abolish the 12- hour day and seven-day week and to make many changes in wages and working conditions, which the workers credited to their own bat-

Here, at last, at the food workers’ union, were not strange people, staring at them and their banners. Here were comrades and friends such as they had found in other cities. Few local people dared to speak to them or come near them at home. But now their circle of friends grew even stronger and wider. They were not alone on a bleak farm on a lonely hillside. Big handsome bearded French and Italian chefs from the most exclusive hotels and restaurants in New York were there, wearing their white cooks’ hats a foot high. The most skilled waiters in the world, with tears in their eyes, tenderly served these hungry children. The tables were decked with flowers. Each child was given a souvenir, a small replica of the Statue of Liberty. The children sang “My Country, ’Tis of Thee,” for their hosts. It was heart-rending to hear their childish voices sing of “Sweet land of liberty!” under the circumstances.