As early as January, 1913, Ernest saw the true trend of affairs,
but he could not get his brother leaders to see the vision of the
Iron Heel that had arisen in his brain. They were too confident.
Events were rushing too rapidly to culmination. A crisis had come
in world affairs. The American Oligarchy was practically in
possession of the world-market, and scores of countries were flung
out of that market with unconsumable and unsalable surpluses on
their hands. For such countries nothing remained but
reorganization. They could not continue their method of producing
surpluses. The capitalistic system, so far as they were concerned,
had hopelessly broken down.
The reorganization of these countries took the form of revolution.
It was a time of confusion and violence. Everywhere institutions
and governments were crashing. Everywhere, with the exception of
two or three countries, the erstwhile capitalist masters fought
bitterly for their possessions. But the governments were taken
away from them by the militant proletariat. At last was being
realized Karl Marx's classic: "The knell of private capitalist
property sounds. The expropriators are expropriated." And as fast
as capitalistic governments crashed, cooperative commonwealths
arose in their place.
"Why does the United States lag behind?"; "Get busy, you American
revolutionists!"; "What's the matter with America?"--were the
messages sent to us by our successful comrades in other lands. But
we could not keep up. The Oligarchy stood in the way. Its bulk,
like that of some huge monster, blocked our path.
"Wait till we take office in the spring," we answered. "Then
you'll see."
Behind this lay our secret. We had won over the Grangers, and in
the spring a dozen states would pass into their hands by virtue of
the elections of the preceding fall. At once would be instituted a
dozen cooperative commonwealth states. After that, the rest would
be easy.
"But what if the Grangers fail to get possession?" Ernest demanded.
And his comrades called him a calamity howler.
But this failure to get possession was not the chief danger that
Ernest had in mind. What he foresaw was the defection of the great
labor unions and the rise of the castes.
"Ghent has taught the oligarchs how to do it," Ernest said. "I'll
wager they've made a text-book out of his 'Benevolent Feudalism.'"*
* "Our Benevolent Feudalism," a book published in 1902 A.D., by W.
J. Ghent. It has always been insisted that Ghent put the idea of
the Oligarchy into the minds of the great capitalists. This belief
persists throughout the literature of the three centuries of the
Iron Heel, and even in the literature of the first century of the
Brotherhood of Man. To-day we know better, but our knowledge does
not overcome the fact that Ghent remains the most abused innocent
man in all history.
Never shall I forget the night when, after a hot discussion with
half a dozen labor leaders, Ernest turned to me and said quietly:
"That settles it. The Iron Heel has won. The end is in sight."
This little conference in our home was unofficial; but Ernest, like
the rest of his comrades, was working for assurances from the labor
leaders that they would call out their men in the next general
strike. O'Connor, the president of the Association of Machinists,
had been foremost of the six leaders present in refusing to give
such assurance.
"You have seen that you were beaten soundly at your old tactics of
strike and boycott," Ernest urged.
O'Connor and the others nodded their heads.
"And you saw what a general strike would do," Ernest went on. "We
stopped the war with Germany. Never was there so fine a display of
the solidarity and the power of labor. Labor can and will rule the
world. If you continue to stand with us, we'll put an end to the
reign of capitalism. It is your only hope. And what is more, you
know it. There is no other way out. No matter what you do under
your old tactics, you are doomed to defeat, if for no other reason
because the masters control the courts."*
* As a sample of the decisions of the courts adverse to labor, the
following instances are given. In the coal-mining regions the
employment of children was notorious. In 1905 A.D., labor
succeeded in getting a law passed in Pennsylvania providing that
proof of the age of the child and of certain educational
qualifications must accompany the oath of the parent. This was
promptly declared unconstitutional by the Luzerne County Court, on
the ground that it violated the Fourteenth Amendment in that it
discriminated between individuals of the same class--namely,
children above fourteen years of age and children below. The state
court sustained the decision. The New York Court of Special
Sessions, in 1905 A.D., declared unconstitutional the law
prohibiting minors and women from working in factories after nine
o'clock at night, the ground taken being that such a law was "class
legislation." Again, the bakers of that time were terribly
overworked. The New York Legislature passed a law restricting work
in bakeries to ten hours a day. In 1906 A.D., the Supreme Court of
the United States declared this law to be unconstitutional. In
part the decision read: "There is no reasonable ground for
interfering with the liberty of persons or the right of free
contract by determining the hours of labor in the occupation of a
baker."
"You run ahead too fast," O'Connor answered. "You don't know all
the ways out. There is another way out. We know what we're about.
We're sick of strikes. They've got us beaten that way to a
frazzle. But I don't think we'll ever need to call our men out
again."
"What is your way out?" Ernest demanded bluntly.
O'Connor laughed and shook his head. "I can tell you this much:
We've not been asleep. And we're not dreaming now."
"There's nothing to be afraid of, or ashamed of, I hope," Ernest
challenged.
"I guess we know our business best," was the retort.
"It's a dark business, from the way you hide it," Ernest said with
growing anger.
"We've paid for our experience in sweat and blood, and we've earned
all that's coming to us," was the reply. "Charity begins at home."
"If you're afraid to tell me your way out, I'll tell it to you."
Ernest's blood was up. "You're going in for grab-sharing. You've
made terms with the enemy, that's what you've done. You've sold
out the cause of labor, of all labor. You are leaving the battle-
field like cowards."
"I'm not saying anything," O'Connor answered sullenly. "Only I
guess we know what's best for us a little bit better than you do."
"And you don't care a cent for what is best for the rest of labor.
You kick it into the ditch."
"I'm not saying anything," O'Connor replied, "except that I'm
president of the Machinists' Association, and it's my business to
consider the interests of the men I represent, that's all."
And then, when the labor leaders had left, Ernest, with the
calmness of defeat, outlined to me the course of events to come.
"The socialists used to foretell with joy," he said, "the coming of
the day when organized labor, defeated on the industrial field,
would come over on to the political field. Well, the Iron Heel has
defeated the labor unions on the industrial field and driven them
over to the political field; and instead of this being joyful for
us, it will be a source of grief. The Iron Heel learned its
lesson. We showed it our power in the general strike. It has
taken steps to prevent another general strike."
"But how?" I asked.
"Simply by subsidizing the great unions. They won't join in the
next general strike. Therefore it won't be a general strike."
"But the Iron Heel can't maintain so costly a programme forever," I
objected.
"Oh, it hasn't subsidized all of the unions. That's not necessary.
Here is what is going to happen. Wages are going to be advanced
and hours shortened in the railroad unions, the iron and steel
workers unions, and the engineer and machinist unions. In these
unions more favorable conditions will continue to prevail.
Membership in these unions will become like seats in Paradise."
"Still I don't see," I objected. "What is to become of the other
unions? There are far more unions outside of this combination than
in it."
"The other unions will be ground out of existence--all of them.
For, don't you see, the railway men, machinists and engineers, iron
and steel workers, do all of the vitally essential work in our
machine civilization. Assured of their faithfulness, the Iron Heel
can snap its fingers at all the rest of labor. Iron, steel, coal,
machinery, and transportation constitute the backbone of the whole
industrial fabric."
"But coal?" I queried. "There are nearly a million coal miners."
They are practically unskilled labor. They will not count. Their
wages will go down and their hours will increase. They will be
slaves like all the rest of us, and they will become about the most
bestial of all of us. They will be compelled to work, just as the
farmers are compelled to work now for the masters who robbed them
of their land. And the same with all the other unions outside the
combination. Watch them wobble and go to pieces, and their members
become slaves driven to toil by empty stomachs and the law of the
land.
"Do you know what will happen to Farley* and his strike-breakers?
I'll tell you. Strike-breaking as an occupation will cease. There
won't be any more strikes. In place of strikes will be slave
revolts. Farley and his gang will be promoted to slave-driving.
Oh, it won't be called that; it will be called enforcing the law of
the land that compels the laborers to work. It simply prolongs the
fight, this treachery of the big unions. Heaven only knows now
where and when the Revolution will triumph."
* James Farley--a notorious strike-breaker of the period. A man
more courageous than ethical, and of undeniable ability. He rose
high under the rule of the Iron Heel and finally was translated
into the oligarch class. He was assassinated in 1932 by Sarah
Jenkins, whose husband, thirty years before, had been killed by
Farley's strike-breakers.
"But with such a powerful combination as the Oligarchy and the big
unions, is there any reason to believe that the Revolution will
ever triumph?" I queried. "May not the combination endure
forever?"
He shook his head. "One of our generalizations is that every
system founded upon class and caste contains within itself the
germs of its own decay. When a system is founded upon class, how
can caste be prevented? The Iron Heel will not be able to prevent
it, and in the end caste will destroy the Iron Heel. The oligarchs
have already developed caste among themselves; but wait until the
favored unions develop caste. The Iron Heel will use all its power
to prevent it, but it will fail.
"In the favored unions are the flower of the American workingmen.
They are strong, efficient men. They have become members of those
unions through competition for place. Every fit workman in the
United States will be possessed by the ambition to become a member
of the favored unions. The Oligarchy will encourage such ambition
and the consequent competition. Thus will the strong men, who
might else be revolutionists, be won away and their strength used
to bolster the Oligarchy.
"On the other hand, the labor castes, the members of the favored
unions, will strive to make their organizations into close
corporations. And they will succeed. Membership in the labor
castes will become hereditary. Sons will succeed fathers, and
there will be no inflow of new strength from that eternal reservoir
of strength, the common people. This will mean deterioration of
the labor castes, and in the end they will become weaker and
weaker. At the same time, as an institution, they will become
temporarily all-powerful. They will be like the guards of the
palace in old Rome, and there will be palace revolutions whereby
the labor castes will seize the reins of power. And there will be
counter-palace revolutions of the oligarchs, and sometimes the one,
and sometimes the other, will be in power. And through it all the
inevitable caste-weakening will go on, so that in the end the
common people will come into their own."
This foreshadowing of a slow social evolution was made when Ernest
was first depressed by the defection of the great unions. I never
agreed with him in it, and I disagree now, as I write these lines,
more heartily than ever; for even now, though Ernest is gone, we
are on the verge of the revolt that will sweep all oligarchies
away. Yet I have here given Ernest's prophecy because it was his
prophecy. In spite of his belief in it, he worked like a giant
against it, and he, more than any man, has made possible the revolt
that even now waits the signal to burst forth.*
* Everhard's social foresight was remarkable. As clearly as in the
light of past events, he saw the defection of the favored unions,
the rise and the slow decay of the labor castes, and the struggle
between the decaying oligarchs and labor castes for control of the
great governmental machine.
"But if the Oligarchy persists," I asked him that evening, "what
will become of the great surpluses that will fall to its share
every year?"
"The surpluses will have to be expended somehow," he answered; "and
trust the oligarchs to find a way. Magnificent roads will be
built. There will be great achievements in science, and especially
in art. When the oligarchs have completely mastered the people,
they will have time to spare for other things. They will become
worshippers of beauty. They will become art-lovers. And under
their direction and generously rewarded, will toil the artists.
The result will be great art; for no longer, as up to yesterday,
will the artists pander to the bourgeois taste of the middle class.
It will be great art, I tell you, and wonder cities will arise that
will make tawdry and cheap the cities of old time. And in these
cities will the oligarchs dwell and worship beauty.*
* We cannot but marvel at Everhard's foresight. Before ever the
thought of wonder cities like Ardis and Asgard entered the minds of
the oligarchs, Everhard saw those cities and the inevitable
necessity for their creation.
"Thus will the surplus be constantly expended while labor does the
work. The building of these great works and cities will give a
starvation ration to millions of common laborers, for the enormous
bulk of the surplus will compel an equally enormous expenditure,
and the oligarchs will build for a thousand years--ay, for ten
thousand years. They will build as the Egyptians and the
Babylonians never dreamed of building; and when the oligarchs have
passed away, their great roads and their wonder cities will remain
for the brotherhood of labor to tread upon and dwell within.*
* And since that day of prophecy, have passed away the three
centuries of the Iron Heel and the four centuries of the
Brotherhood of Man, and to-day we tread the roads and dwell in the
cities that the oligarchs built. It is true, we are even now
building still more wonderful wonder cities, but the wonder cities
of the oligarchs endure, and I write these lines in Ardis, one of
the most wonderful of them all.
"These things the oligarchs will do because they cannot help doing
them. These great works will be the form their expenditure of the
surplus will take, and in the same way that the ruling classes of
Egypt of long ago expended the surplus they robbed from the people
by the building of temples and pyramids. Under the oligarchs will
flourish, not a priest class, but an artist class. And in place of
the merchant class of bourgeoisie will be the labor castes. And
beneath will be the abyss, wherein will fester and starve and rot,
and ever renew itself, the common people, the great bulk of the
population. And in the end, who knows in what day, the common
people will rise up out of the abyss; the labor castes and the
Oligarchy will crumble away; and then, at last, after the travail
of the centuries, will it be the day of the common man. I had
thought to see that day; but now I know that I shall never see it."
He paused and looked at me, and added:
"Social evolution is exasperatingly slow, isn't it, sweetheart?"
My arms were about him, and his head was on my breast.
"Sing me to sleep," he murmured whimsically. "I have had a
visioning, and I wish to forget."