For this week’s Peace of History:
On May 29, 1968, the Poor People’s Campaign began in Washington, D.C., a month and a half after Dr. King had been assassinated. Dr. King had started organizing the campaign months before, convinced that the issue of socioeconomics was the next front in the struggle against racial injustice. However, when he learned of a majority-Black strike of municipal sanitation workers in Tennessee, he took a break from the national campaign to make his final return South. On February 1, 1968, Memphis sanitation workers Echol Cole and Robert Walker were crushed to death by a malfunctioning garbage collection truck. In 1964, two other sanitation workers had been killed in a similar manner. In the following years, the city of Memphis refused to replace the defective machines or even remove them from service; refused to provide safety equipment, uniforms, or restrooms; kept wages so low that many sanitation workers relied on welfare and food stamps; forced late-night shifts with no overtime pay; and provided no procedures for filing grievances. Strikes were attempted -- first in 1963, which failed for lack of proper organization; and the second in 1966, which the city beat to the punch with strikebreakers and threats of jailing the strike leaders. The second strike had been led by worker-turned-organizer T.O. Jones of Local 1733 of the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees (AFSCME), a union the city of Memphis refused to recognize. On February 11, ten days after the deaths of Cole and Walker, over 700 members of the AFSCME unanimously voted to strike. After a week and a half, city police deployed mace, tear gas, and clubs on nonviolent demonstrators marching on City Hall. With this kind of brutality running rampant in Memphis, 150 local ministers under the leadership of Rev. James Lawson met on February 24 to form the Community on the Move for Equality (COME). Their plan was to nonviolently bring national attention to the strike and put public pressure on the Mayor Loeb, who continued to resist the strikers even against the wishes of the City Council. Initially kept apprised by phone, national civil rights leaders such as Roy Wilkins, Bayard Rustin, and later Dr. King would arrive in Memphis to support the strikers. On March 28, Dr. King led his last march: one that led to a splinter group throwing sticks and bricks into store windows, and the police responding with teargas and indiscriminate violence. Looting broke out, police shot dead a 16 year old boy, and by nightfall, nearly 4000 National Guard troops with tanks had been called in to enforce a state of emergency. Later, King learned that the Black community in Memphis had a militant “Black Power” wing called the Invaders. Some in Memphis at the time thought of the Invaders as quite separate from the rest of the nonviolent demonstrators -- young, reckless, extreme. Others tried to group all of the nonviolent protesters in with the rioters to discredit the sanitation workers’ grievances. Indeed, Blackness in America is far from a single monolithic culture -- but the nonviolent civil rights leaders of the 1960s also understood that all African-Americans do suffer under the same racist superstructure, which includes the interconnected systems of policing, poverty, and labor exploitation, among more. When Dr. King addressed the issue of rioting and property damage, he notably did not criticize their lack of civility, nor did he address the ethics of looting. Instead, he criticized the fact that the rioting distracted the media from the real issues: “Secondly, let us keep the issues where they are. The issue is injustice. The issue is the refusal of Memphis to be fair and honest in its dealings with its public servants, who happen to be sanitation workers. Now we've got to keep attention on that. That's always the problem with a little violence. You know what happened the other day, and the press dealt only with the window breaking. I read the articles. They very seldom got around to mentioning the fact that 1,300 sanitation workers are on strike, and that Memphis is not being fair to them, and that Mayor Loeb is in dire need of a doctor. They didn't get around to that.” A year earlier, Dr. King made his position on riots clear in his speech “The Other America”: “…I think America must see that riots do not develop out of thin air. Certain conditions continue to exist in our society which must be condemned as vigorously as we condemn riots. But in the final analysis, a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it that America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the plight of the Negro poor has worsened over the last few years. It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice, equality, and humanity. And so in a real sense our nation’s summers of riots are caused by our nation’s winters of delay. And as long as America postpones justice, we stand in the position of having these recurrences of violence and riots over and over again. Social justice and progress are the absolute guarantors of riot prevention.” It wasn’t just about the deaths of Echol Cole and Robert Walker. The reaction to their deaths was explosive in part because the other municipal workers knew that it could have been any of them. In the final speech of his life, King continued on to argue for Black solidarity and working class solidarity. He called for boycotts, an old tried-and-true tactic of the civil rights movement, but notably also included some nonviolent tactics in line with “Black Power” strategies of Black separatism, such as the bank-in: “Now not only that, we've got to strengthen black institutions. I call upon you to take your money out of the banks downtown and deposit your money in Tri-State Bank. We want a "bank-in" movement in Memphis. Go by the savings and loan association. I'm not asking you something that we don't do ourselves in SCLC. Judge Hooks and others will tell you that we have an account here in the savings and loan association from the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. We are telling you to follow what we're doing, put your money there. You have six or seven black insurance companies here in the city of Memphis. Take out your insurance there. We want to have an "insurance-in." Now these are some practical things that we can do. We begin the process of building a greater economic base, and at the same time, we are putting pressure where it really hurts. And I ask you to follow through here.” Many Americans today are not accustomed to thinking about the connections between racism, police violence, poverty, labor exploitation, war, ecological devastation, and climate change. Even Dr. King, at the time of his death, was continuing to broaden his understanding of these connections. While some aspects of society have demonstrably improved for the historically oppressed, other unjust conditions have changed little in the ensuing years. Here lies danger: focusing on the improvements of one aspect of society can hide the rot of another. Jim Crow is over and most municipal garbage disposal in the United States is now semi-automated and much safer -- but the unlivable wage the Memphis sanitation workers were protesting was equivalent to between $12.06 - $14.32 in 2019 dollars (today, the US federal minimum wage is $7.25, and sanitation workers in Memphis make about $12/hour). What is different, 52 years later, is that now more people than ever see passed the distractions and recognize the interwoven patterns of injustice. Let us remember, when tragedy strikes and innocent people die, when responsible parties escape consequences and it seems that evil is winning -- we are not alone, our allies are diverse and many, and our numbers are only growing. Sources: “"I've Been to the Mountaintop," Address Delivered at Bishop Charles Mason Temple.” https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/ive-been-mountaintop-address-delivered-bishop-charles-mason-temple “Memphis Sanitation Workers' Strike.” https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/memphis-sanitation-workers-strike “The Other America.” https://www.crmvet.org/docs/otheram.htm For this week’s Peace of History:
With economic insecurity currently on many people’s minds, let us look at the unique activities and principles of the Conference for Progressive Labor Action (CPLA). Founded in 1929 as primarily a research, educational, and central coordinating organization for the progressive labor movement, the group also provided relief, ran public awareness campaigns, and generally sought to build an expansive “labor culture” among working-class Americans. Under A.J. Muste’s leadership, the CPLA tactics were grounded in experience and more flexible than those of many other more ideological leftist groups at the time. Muste was heavily influenced by his colleague David Saposs, who believed that “an effective labor movement is only possible when it is based upon a labor culture; that is, a mode of feeling, thinking and acting in terms of the problems and aspirations of labor.” Saposs, like many labor progressives of the time, viewed the American Federation of Labor (AFL) as “business unionism, which deliberately discouraged all working class organizational activity except unions, and which led the workers to immerse themselves in the capitalistic culture” (118). As a healthier and more fulfilling alternative to the dominant capitalist culture, some early CPLA projects focused on organizing recreational activities like picnics, dances, and singing clubs. They taught union songs and labor history, and generally attempted to educate working class people by framing the labor struggle as the next step in the expansion of American liberty. The ultimate goal was to develop a radical bloc within the conservative AFL to force the broader group to accept progressive measures. From the start, the CPLA focused its attention on many of the “neglected” groups of the working class. Taking the opposite tact of the Communist Party, which was at once too reliant on long-winded theory and also too opportunistic with regards to strikes, the CPLA always started with the specific concerns of the workers to build sustainable, community-led movements. One of the first groups the CPLA started with was African-American laborers. Indeed, among the pamphlets published by the CPLA in its first year was “Negro Labor.” With both Black nationalism and Black capitalism becoming popular ideologies for many African-Americans in the early 20th century, the CPLA offered a third alternative to Black workers: working class solidarity with special attention to the unique challenges and implications of anti-Black racism. The theory was that barriers like racial prejudice and ideological differences would dissipate through the organic education of collective action and shared struggle. Although this proved to be an imperfect strategy, it was often the reason why the CPLA was successful when similar leftist and labor groups had failed. The CPLA also regarded the concerns of woman-laborers to require special attention, similarly to those of African-American workers. Despite this wisdom, however, the CPLA was only somewhat more progressive with regards to views of women than many other leftist organizations of the time: the CPLA’s typical “labor feminism” sought to cultivate female leadership and female worker organization, but also presumed natural differences in ability between men and women, and continued to envision the prototypical “Worker” as a masculine force. Moreover, the CPLA recruited young people of all genders from the League for Industrial Democracy (youth wing of the Socialist Party especially active on college campuses), and from the YWCA’s industrial department (with which Muste was well-acquainted from past collaborative projects). Against the established leftist theory of the time, Muste also recruited intellectuals and “professional” wage-earners of “new capitalism” into the network, envisioning this new class of wage-earners as brothers to labor. Perhaps the CPLA found some of its most dramatic successes in organizing jobless people -- first in Seattle, then spreading across the country (Ohio and Pennsylvania would ultimately organize the most, with approximately 100,000 and 50,000 people, respectively). With these numbers, the CPLA coordinated massive public awareness campaigns, educating the public of the invisible plight of unemployment as well as measures like government assistance that could mitigate them. And yet, perhaps it could also be said that FDR’s federal response to the Great Depression helped end that era of progressive labor organizing. To Muste, the foundations of a movement, an organization, or a policy must be aligned with a diverse, anti-capitalist labor culture in order to win and maintain workers’ rights. He was unshakeable in his belief in the primacy of the common people’s will, even when FDR implemented some of the progressive policies while maintaining the dominant capitalist power structures. It is a problem that continues, as contemporary leftists still contend with reactionaries and moderate liberals -- but perhaps the solution is to simply continue the work of building the culture of labor as a more attractive alternative to the individualistic, capitalist society in which we live. Culture, after all, is cumulative -- and history is not over. For this week’s Peace of History:
We continue to celebrate Labor History Month with the famous story of the 1912 Lawrence Textile Strike, commonly known as the “Bread and Roses” Strike. Last Sunday was Mother’s Day, a holiday formed in part to bring attention to and celebrate the many underappreciated labors and responsibilities of women. Perhaps less known is the role of women in the American labor movements of the 19th and early 20th centuries, both as organizers and as workers. After a new state law shortened the maximum work week for woman and child mill workers from 56 to 54 hours, and after mill owners responded by cutting wages, the strike began with a group of Polish woman textile workers discovering the wage cut and walking out. Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) organizer Joseph Ettor and Socialist Party of America member Arturo Giovannitti had already been attempting to organize the textile workers of the city. The two quickly became leaders of the strike and formed a committee of 56 people: four representatives of fourteen nationalities. Like the strike that would hit Lawrence 7 years later, the 1912 strike organized efficient solutions to the extensive communication issues between the strikers. Strike meetings, decisions, and demands were ultimately translated into 25 different languages, and the ethnic representative system allowed for the rapid communication of pertinent information from the strike leadership to the workers. The United Textile Workers (UTW), an AFL-affiliated union, attempted to speak for the strikers early on to work out agreements with individual mills, but with the leadership clearly centered around Ettor and Giovannitti as well as the ethnic representatives, the mill owners ignored these attempts to undercut Ettor and Giovannitti. The reaction to the strike, however, was swift and extreme. The city’s alarm bells were rung for the first time in its history. Police militias began patrolling streets. Bouts of violence between picketters, mill owners, and police broke out. Someone paid by the president of the American Woolen Company tried to frame the strikers by planting dynamite in various places across the city. Later, authorities fallaciously charged the strike leadership as accomplices to murder for the death of Anna LoPizzo, a striker likely shot by police. Ettor and Giovannitti were jailed, 22 more militia companies began patrolling the streets, and the city was put under martial law. To replace the lost strike leadership, the IWW sent “Big” Bill Haywood and Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, along with several other organizers to Lawrence. Together, they raised funds from other New England mills; established relief committees, soup kitchens, and food distribution stations; and coordinated volunteer doctors to provide medical care. They also organized for the children of strikers to be sent out of Lawrence temporarily to the homes of supporters, mostly in New York City, for their own safety and to reduce the strain on the strike fund. When police attempted to stop them, beating strikers and supporters including women and children, the press witnessed and reported on the brutality. The story got the attention of Congress, which brought the strikers’ plight to national consciousness and made the mill owners’ position morally indefensible. The owners caved. At the end of the strike, the workers had won most of their demands. The children sent away to New York City returned home. Without a permanent union or other organization to protect the gains, however, mill owners were able to reverse every improvement over the next few years, leading to the 1919 strike described last week. In both strikes, the ability to organize an incredibly diverse and multilingual industry of workers proved to be essential. Next week: we will continue exploring the intersection of labor and peace with more stories from the movements. Sources: “Lawrence, MA factory workers strike ‘for Bread and Roses,’ U.S. 1912.” https://nvdatabase.swarthmore.edu/content/lawrence-ma-factory-workers-strike-bread-and-roses-us-1912 “The Lawrence textile strike, 1912 - Sam Lowry.” https://libcom.org/history/articles/lawrence-textile-strike-1912 “The Strike that Shook America.” https://www.history.com/news/the-strike-that-shook-america For this week’s Peace of History:
We celebrate the first week of Labor History Month with the story of the 1919 Lawrence Textile Workers’ Strike: an episode that proved the power of nonviolent resistance in the American context decades before Dr. King, that bridged the gap between pacifism and trade unionism, and that sent A.J. Muste on the path to later co-found the influential Committee for Nonviolent Action. A.J. Muste (for whom the VPT conference center is named) was a Dutch-born American pastor and activist known for his lifelong work in the labor, peace, and civil rights movements. Shortly after the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) was founded in 1916, A.J. Muste became an active member of the pacifist organization. By the end of the next year, with the United States’ entry into the First World War already several months in, Muste’s wildly unpopular pacifism led to the resignation of his pastorate in Newtonville, MA. Shortly thereafter, Muste moved to Boston and joined up with two other pacifist ministers involved in FOR, Cedric Long and Harold Rotzel, as well as three women of some social renown: Anna N. Davis, Ethel Paine, and Elizabeth Glendower Evans. Together, they formed the Comradeship: a group dedicated to investigating “the question of how to organize our lives so that they would truly express the teachings and spirit of Jesus.” In 1919, when FOR asked Long, Rotzel, and Muste to assist in the arbitration of the strike at Lawrence, MA, the Comradeship had their chance to put their philosophy to the test. There were many challenges to resolving the strike from the start. The more than 30,000 striking workers came from over twenty different ethnic groups with different languages, spoke little English, and faced an ascendant and violent nationalism hostile to their foreignness. The workers had organized themselves into smaller ethnic groups, with a spokesperson for each group, but factory bosses had devised a divide-and-conquer strategy of rewarding “old” immigrants and exploiting “new” immigrants, further stoking ethnic tensions among the workers. And the brutality of police attacks on the workers began on the very first day of the strike, with police clubbing not just workers on picket lines and outside the mills, but also entering the homes of workers to attack women and other members of working families. Many pacifists of the time, including some in FOR, believed that in irreconcilable situations, it might actually be better to cede victory to evil rather than to violate fundamental pacifist principles. Unlike mainstream pacifism of the time, however, when push came to shove, the Comradeship could not stand neutral. Moreover, while many American pacifists viewed labor strikes as inherently violent, the Comradeship realized almost immediately upon entering the situation in Lawrence that law enforcement was the “creator of violence” in the strike. Muste would argue later that, although worker activism might appear to disturb the “social peace,” the language of “peace” could often be used to maintain an unjust status quo -- one of the many important lessons he would learn from the 1919 strike. In helping to organize the strikers into a more sustainable force, the Comradeship helped to form the Amalgamated Textile Workers of America (ATWA), a new union of skilled and unskilled laborers. Muste was immediately elected to the office of Executive Secretary. His immigrant and working-class credentials helped him win the trust of the workers, but it was largely his strategic flexibility paired with a rigid commitment to justice that maintained that trust. One early episode in particular demonstrated both of these qualities especially well. Of course, the Comradeship discouraged the strikers from retaliatory violence against the police and scab workers, but sensing that some dramatic action was required to take its place, Long, Rotzel, and Muste took the risk of suffering police brutality to lead the picket line. On the first day of leading the line, Muste and Long were separated from the rest of the strikers, beaten until they could not stand, and then arrested. The Comradeship, however, turned the beating into a victory -- preceding the strategies that Dr. King would champion decades later, the brutalization of the clearly nonviolent pastors by the city police turned the city’s opinion of the situation overnight. More money began coming in for the strike fund. The tone of the press became more sympathetic. And the workers now had a living example of the power of nonviolent resistance. So when police mounted machine guns in key locations of strike zones, and when “radicals” (who later turned out to be agents provocateur) called for the commandeering of the machine guns, the strike committee decided to continue the nonviolence strategy. To their great frustration, the police were unable to instigate any more significant bouts of violence from the strikers. Mill employers attempted to frame Muste for murder, but that plan was not carried through, in part because such an accusation would strain credulity. At the end of 16-weeks, with both sides exhausted and preparing to give up, Muste was finally called in by the head of the American Woolen Company in Lawrence. They settled: 15% increase in wages and no discrimation against strikers. It was an important victory for the labor movement, a critical chapter of the early peace movement, and an essential learning experience for A.J. Muste -- the beginning of much of his decades-long work. Next week: we will compare the 1919 Lawrence strike with the much more famous, and decidedly more violent, 1912 Lawrence Textile Strike -- so-called the “Bread and Roses” strike organized by the Industrial Workers of the World. Sources: Danielson, Leilah. American Gandhi: A.J. Muste and the History of Radicalism in the Twentieth Century, 2014. “Lawrence Mill Workers strike against wage cuts, 1919.” https://nvdatabase.swarthmore.edu/content/lawrence-mill-workers-strike-against-wage-cuts-1919 “This Day in Resistance History: Hope College graduate A.J. Muste and the 1919 Lawrence textile workers strike.” https://griid.org/2013/02/03/this-day-in-resistance-history-hope-college-graduate-a-j-muste-and-the-1919-lawrence-textile-workers-strike/ "Sorrow Song"; “The First Lines of Emails I’ve Received While Quarantining”; "Question and Answer"5/3/2020
For this week’s Peace of History:
We conclude National Poetry month by sharing two poems that each meditate on the sense of absurdity, loss of meaning, and disorientation during times of crisis. The first immediately brings to mind the unspeakably inhumane horrors that people of color, and especially children, have suffered in recent centuries due to colonialism and war. In a simple litany of places and ethnicities, some of the worst scenes of human brutality are evoked like a highlight reel. And yet, the poem is not about the brutality itself (the atrocities are only mentioned, not described), but about the banal sources of that brutality, and the children who witness them. The second poem is the inverse to the first: it is a contemporary poem that has recently gone viral on Twitter. Composed of email snippets, the poem shows the strange dissonance of heartfelt well-wishes and attempts to connect alongside naked capitalistic opportunism -- especially during a deadly global pandemic. In the age of COVID-19, everything is heightened. Each stanza clings to a sense of normalcy, but the things that mattered before the quarantines seem strange now, and new normals are being formed before our eyes. Finally, we also share a third poem to remind us of the reasons to struggle for justice. Despite how long we have struggled, how hard we have already fought for a better world, how many we have lost in our striving -- faith in the possibility of a better world sustains many of us. This has always been true, but in this most historic of moments, the inherent injustices of our society have been exposed by the pandemic, and we can all feel what seems like the foundations of the whole earth shift and heave below our feet. The old systems are in crisis, and never have the possibilities for the reshaping of the world seemed more real. “Sorrow Song” for the eyes of the children, the last to melt, the last to vaporize, for the lingering eyes of the children, staring, the eyes of the children of buchenwald, of viet nam and johannesburg, for the eyes of the children of nagasaki, for the eyes of the children of the middle passage, for the cherokee eyes, ethiopian eyes, russian eyes, american eyes, for all that remains of the children, their eyes, staring at us, amazed to see the extraordinary evil in ordinary men. Lucille Clifton (1936-2010) -- “The First Lines of Emails I’ve Received While Quarantining” In these uncertain times as we navigate the new normal, are you willing to share your ideas and solutions? As you know, many people are struggling. I know you are up against it: the digital landscape. We share your concerns. As you know, many people are struggling. We hope this note finds you and your family safe. We’ve never seen anything like this before. Here are 25 Distance Learning Tips! As you know, many people are struggling. Feeling Fiesta today? Happy Taco Tuesday! Calories don’t count during a pandemic. Grocers report flour shortages as more people are baking than ever! As you know, many people are struggling. Count your blessings. Share your blessings. Get Free Curb-side pick up or ship to your house! Chicken! Lemon! Artichokes! As you know, many people are struggling. How are you inspiring greatness today? We have a cure for your cabin fever. Pandemic dial-in town hall TONIGHT! As you know, many people are struggling. Mother’s Day looks a little different this year. You’re invited to shop all jeans for 50% off! Yes, buy 1, get 1 free! As you know, many people are struggling. Call us to discuss a loan extension without penalty. ACT NOW: Tell Congress Charters should Not Line their Pockets During the COVID crisis. Now shipping facemasks as recommended by the CDC. As you know, many people are struggling. This is not normal. Jessica Salfia (2020) https://twitter.com/jessica_salfia/status/1249000027198033922 -- “Question and Answer” Durban, Birmingham, Cape Town, Alabama, Johannesburg, Watts, The earth around Struggling, fighting, Dying--for what? A world to gain. Groping, hoping, Waiting--for what? A world to gain. Dreams kicked asunder, Why not go under? There's a world to gain. But suppose I don't want it, Why take it? To remake it. Langston Hughes (1902-1967) |
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