Rebel Voices
Page 9
Sung to the tune, “The Portland County Jail,” the verses were printed in the twenty-fifth edition of the I.W.W. songbook. “Dan McGann” was printed in the twenty-first edition of the I.W.W. songbook.
DAN McGANN
By DUBLIN DAN
Said Dan McGann to a foreign man,
Who sat with him on a bench:
“Let me tell you this,” and for emphasis,
He flourished a Stillson wrench,
“Don’t talk to me of the bourgeoisie,
Don’t open your lips to speak
Of the socialist or the anarchist,
Don’t mention the bolshevik.
“I’ve heard enough of your foreign stuff,
I’m as sick as a man can be
Of the speech of hate, and I’m telling you straight,
That this is the land for me;
If you want to brag, take a look at our flag,
And boast of its field of blue,
Boast of the dead whose blood was shed
For the peace of the likes of you.
“I’ll have no more,” and he waved once more
His wrench, in a forceful way,
“Of the cunning creed of the Russian breed,
But I stand for the U. S. A.
I’m sick of your fads and your wild-eyed lads,
Don’t flourish your flag so red,
Where I can see—or at night there’ll be
Tall candles around your head.
“So tip your hat to a flag like that
Thank God for its stripes and stars,
Thank God you are here, where the roads are clear,
Away from the kings and czars,
And don’t you speak of the bolshevik,
I’m sick of that stuff, I am—
One God, one flag, that’s the creed I brag,
I’m boosting for Uncle Sam.”
Reply
The “foreign” man looked at Dan McGann,
And in perfect English, said:
“I cannot see, for the life of me,
What you have got in your head.
You boast and brag ‘bout the grand old flag
And the foes you put to rout,
When you haven’t a pot in which to spit,
Or a window to throw it out.
You howl and kick about the bolshevik,
The anarchist and Wob—
Industrial Pioneer, August 1924.
You defend this rotten system when
You don’t even own your job.
“Immigration laws would be ‘jake’ with you
If they kept out the Russian Finn,
The German Jew, and the Frenchman too,
And just let the Irish in;
You’re full of that religious bunk
And the priest on your life has a lease—
You’re not even blest, like some of the rest,
With the sense that God gave geese;
You’re a rank disgrace to the human race,
You’re one of those grand mistakes,
Who came from the land, from which I understand,
St. Patrick drove the snakes.
“The boss told you, and you think it’s so,
And I guess it is at that,
That your head is a place on the top of your face,
Which is meant to hold your hat.
If a thought ever entered your ivory dome—
Which I am inclined to doubt—
You would not rest till you’d done your best
To drive the ‘foreigner’ out.
You kick about the strangers here,
But you give no reason why—
And without these so-called ‘foreigners,’
How would you get by?
“You’re working for an Englishman,
You room with a French Canuck,
You board in a Swedish restaurant
Where a Dutchman cooks your chuck;
You buy your clothes from a German Jew,
Your shoes from a Russian Pole,
And you place your hope in a dago pope,
To save your Irish soul.
You’re an 18-carat scissorbill,
You’re a regular brainless gem—
But the time’s at hand when you’ll have to stand
For the things you now condemn.
“So throw away your Stillson wrench,
You booster for Uncle Sam,
For the language you use, when you’re full of booze,
Doesn’t scare me worth a damn—
Go fight and be damned, for your glorious flag,
And the boss who is robbing you;
One Union Grand, that’s where I stand;
I’m boosting the O. B. U.”
20
THE PORTLAND REVOLUTION*
By DUBLIN DAN
The Revolution started, so the judge informed the Mayor,
Now Baker paces back and forth, and raves and pulls his hair,
The waterfront is tied up tight, the Portland newsboy howls,
And not a thing is moving, only Mayor Bakers bowels.
A call went out for pickets, you should see the railroad yards,
Lined up with honest workers, all displaying “Wobbly Cards,”
It made no difference to those boys, which industry was hit,
They all were fellow workers, and they meant to do their bit.
When they arrived in Portland, they went right to their hall,
And there and then decided a meeting they would call,
The chairman was elected, when a thing built like a man,
Informed them that they must finish up their meeting in the can.
They were ushered to the court room, bright and early Tuesday morn,
Then slowly entered “Justice,” on his face a look of scorn,
Some “Cat” who had the rigging, suggested to his pard,
“Here a chance to line up “Baldy,” so they wrote him out a card.
When he spied the little ducat, his face went white with hate,
And he said, “I’ll tell you once for all,” this court won’t tolerate
You “Wobblies” coming in here, and he clinched his puny fists,
One Big Union Monthly, July 1920.
‘Cause Mayor Baker has informed me that an emergency exists.
“Bring forth the prisoners, officer, we’ll stop this thing right here.
You state your name, from whence you came, and what you’re doing here.
You don’t belong I. L. A. or M. T. W.
Now what I’d like to find out is, how this strike concerns you?
The One Ten Cat then wagged his tail, and smiled up at the “law,”
He said, “I am a harvest hand,” or better known as “Straw,”
I’m interested in this wheat, in fact I’m keeping tabs,
I’m here, to see, twixt you and me, t’ain’t loaded by no scabs.
The One Ten Cats were jubilant, the fur flew from their tails,
“His Honor” rapped for order, and the next man called was “Rails,”
I belong to old “Five Twenty,” I’m a switchman in these yards,
And I’m here to state, we’ll switch no freight,
’Cause we’ve all got red cards.
We’re here to win this longshore strike, in spite of all your law,
That’s all I’ve got to say, except, we’re solid behind “Straw.”
The logger then was next in line, he stood just six feet six,
“One Twenty,” that’s where I belong, the “Wobblies” call us “Sticks.”
All red cards cut this lumber, also loaded it on flats,
And we won’t see it handled by a bunch of “Legion Rats.”
Old “Baldy” then was furious, I could see his pride was hurt,
When a Three Ten “cat” informed him, that his moniker was “Dirt.”
He said, “Your honor, Listen, we have taken this here stand,
Bec
ause we all are organized in ‘One Big Union Grand.’
“An injury to one, we say’s an injury to all,
United we’re unbeatable, divided, we must fall,
Your jails can’t crush our spirit, you’re already wise to that,”
When “Baldy” rapped for order, and cut off the Three Ten Cat.
He said, let me get straightened out, I’m in an awful mix,
For “Shorty” plainly says he’s “dirt,” and “Slim” belongs to “sticks.”
Now “Blackie,” he belongs to “rails” and “Whitey” says he’s “straw,”
And all of you seem to have no respect for “law.”
Now I can’t send you men to jail, I can’t find one excuse,
I’ll wash my hands of this damn’d mess, and turned the whole bunch loose,
Then “dirt” and “sticks” walked arm in arm, with “flirts” and “skirts” and “rails,”
While the One Ten Cats brought up the rear, fur flying from their tails.
* This amount is charged by the National Association of Green Bottle Blowers. In August, 1908, there was held in the city of Paris, France, an international congress of delegates of the ceramic trades. Delegates from the Green Bottle Blowers’ Association of America were present. They were requested to at least waive that initiation fee for union men from other countries, at the same trade. To this the delegates of the Green Bottle Blowers’ Association replied with the withdrawal of their two delegates, and with the announcement that they would work for the increase of that initiation fee to $1,000 for anybody who wants to get work in that industry. (See records published in Paris.) Dennis Hayes, the General President of that Association, is fourth Vice President of the American Federation of Labor.
Chapter 2
With Folded Arms:
The Tactics of Direct Action
There was an Indian preacher who went to college and eked out an existence on the side by preaching. Somebody said to him, “John, how much do you get paid?”
“Oh, only get paid $200.00 a year.”
“Well, that’s damn poor pay, John.”
“Well,” he said, “Damn poor preach!”
ELIZABETH GURLEY FLYNN
in Sabotage (Cleveland: I.W.W. Publicity Bureau, April 1915), p. 8.
Vincent St. John, who called the fourth I.W.W. convention to order on September 21, 1908, had been a farm worker, printer, upholsterer, and miner. Experiences with the grim economic and social realities of Western frontier industrial life shaped his militant philosophy. His leadership in the Goldfield strike and his organizing ability in local situations won him the support and affection of the Western delegates who called him “Vint” or “The Saint.”
St. John saw the class struggle as a brutal fact of everyday life. In 1914 he told the Senate Industrial Relations Commission:
[employers] take us into the mills, before we have even seen the semblance of an education, and they grind up our vitality, brain and muscular energy into profits, and whenever we cannot keep pace with the machine speeded to its highest notch, they turn us out onto the road to eke out an existence as best we can, or wind up on the poor farm or in potter’s field.1
With De Leon barred from the convention, the “straight industrialists,” who had considered De Leon a “pope” and an “intellectual,” elected St. John general secretary-treasurer, a key position which he held until 1914. William Trautmann, who in 1904 was one of the six men instrumental in organizing the I.W.W., was elected general organizer.
The direct-actionists discounted working-class political action for a number of reasons. For one thing, it had no meaning for a large portion of the working class—women, migrants, aliens, Southern Negroes—who were unable to vote. But more fundamentally, the direct-actionists questioned the value of reforms gained through the state, since the capitalist government, as St. John phrased it, “was a committee to look after the interests of the employers.”2 In a class war in which “all peace as long as the wage system lasts is but an armed truce,”3 sheer economic power alone would decide economic and social questions between conflicting forces.
The tactics of direct action found expression during the next few years in various forms of pressure applied by I.W.W. members through strikes, free speech fights, boycotts, and demonstrations. An I.W.W. publication defined the term “direct action” this way:
Direct action means industrial action directly by, for, and of the workers themselves, without the treacherous aid of labor misleaders or scheming politicians. A strike that is initiated, controlled, and settled by the workers directly affected is direct action…. Direct action is combined action, directly on the job to secure better job conditions. Direct action is industrial democracy.4
On the industrial scene, these tactics were applied effectively in a number of stoppages during this period, especially in the 1909 strike at Mc-Kees Rocks, Pennsylvania, a Pittsburgh suburb. Here, over 6000 employees of the Pressed Steel Car Company, an affiliate of the United States Steel Corporation, struck spontaneously for better working conditions and an end to a speed-up system. Most of them were immigrants from many countries. Ignored by the A.F.L. union officials, they readily accepted encouragement and leadership from I.W.W. organizers.
An unknown committee of strikers determined strike strategy. When the “Black Cossacks,” as the club-wielding troopers of the Pennsylvania Constabulary were called, injured over 100 strikers in repeated charges on meetings and picket lines, the strike leaders warned that they would fight back. They threatened that a “Cossack” would be killed or injured for every worker killed or maimed.
When a striker was killed, 5000 sympathizers representing fifteen nationalities marched in the funeral procession, and the strikers made good their threat. Ten days later a fight broke out with troopers as the strikers returned home from a meeting; a brief gun battle left four strikers and three troopers dead.
In the first issue of Solidarity, an I.W.W. newspaper started in 1909 at Newcastle, Pennsylvania, in the heart of the steel district, general organizer William Trautmann reported: “Then the chief of the Cossacks called off his bloodhounds. After that, no striker or deputy was killed. Organized and disciplined ‘physical force’ checked violence and wanton destruction of life at McKees Rocks.”5 With the strikers freely picketing the factories, they finally won their demands.
The victory at McKees Rocks won better working conditions, brought an end to some of the notorious company abuses for the strikers, and enhanced the reputation of the I.W.W. In addition, the organization used the strike as a vehicle of agitation against the capitalist system and as a tactic to strengthen working class solidarity. Strikes were part of the guerilla warfare against the employer, which would eventually overthrow the capitalist system. In the words of one I.W.W. propagandist:
Strikes are mere incidents in the class war; they are tests of strength, periodic drills in the course of which the workers train themselves for concerted action. This training is most necessary to prepare the masses for the final “catastrophe,” the general strike which will complete the expropriation of the employers.6
The general strike was viewed in the broadest sense as the peaceful taking over of the means of production, once the workers had been organized and capitalism had proved its inefficiency. It would be brought about, said Haywood and other I.W.W. organizers, by the “folded arms” of the workers. “When we strike now, we strike with our hands in our pockets,” Haywood told a reporter for the magazine, World’s Work, in 1913. “We have a new kind of violence, the havoc we raise with money by laying down our tools.”7
This philosophy was eloquently voiced by I.W.W. organizer Joseph Ettor, addressing the Lawrence textile strikers at the Franco-Belgian Hall on January 25, 1912. He said:
If the workers of the world want to win, all they have to do is recognize their own solidarity. They have nothing to do but fold their arms and the world will stop. The workers are more powerful with their hands in their pockets than all
the property of the capitalists. As long as the workers keep their hands in their pockets, the capitalists cannot put theirs there. With passive resistance, with the workers absolutely refusing to move, lying absolutely silent, they are more powerful than all the weapons and instruments that the other side has for attack.8
Until the time of the general strike, Ettor held, workers must be inspired with a sense of class solidarity and militancy.
In line with I.W.W. philosophy, no contracts would be recognized after a strike was won. Only temporary “truces” could be effected on the “battlefield of capital and labor.” As St. John wrote in his much circulated pamphlet, The I.W.W.: Its History, Structure, and Methods: “There is but one bargain that the Industrial Workers of the World will make with the employing class—complete surrender of the means of production.”9
This philosophy was forcefully expressed in one of the many Wobbly songs on the general strike:
Why do you make agreements that divide you when you fight
And let the bosses bluff you with the contract’s “sacred right”?
Why stay at work when other crafts are battling with the foe;
You all must stick together, don’t you know?
Tie’ em up! Tie ’em up; that’s the way to win.
Don’t notify the bosses till hostilities begin.
Don’t furnish chance for gunmen, scabs and all their like;
What you need is One Big Union and the One Big Strike.10
Wobblies “tied up” their bosses by assorted forms of harassment on the job, undertaken when other efforts proved ineffective. This was called “sabotage,” or “conscientious withdrawal of efficiency.” It proved to be the most controversial concept affecting the organization.
The tactics of direct action evolved from the nature of working conditions of the I.W.W. membership. In many cases, unable to finance long-term strikes, the unskilled laborers resorted to short decisive actions. It was impossible to maintain a picket line across thousands of miles of Kansas, Nebraska, and Dakota wheat fields. But it was possible for the Wobblies to leave threatening signs: “$3.00 a day—shocks right side up; $2.00 a day, shocks upside down.”11 Intermittent strikes, strikes on the job, and “sabotage” were means of gaining practical concessions quickly, as well as part of the long-term battle to weaken the capitalist system.