_Written for Labor Day Souvenir, Central Labor Union, Boston, Mass.,
September, 1895_
I would hail the day upon which it could be truthfully said, “Labor
conquers everything,” with inexpressible gratification. Such a day would
stand first in Labor’s Millennium, that prophesied era when Christ shall
begin his reign on the earth to continue a thousand years.
The old Latin fathers did a large business in manufacturing maxims, and
the one I have selected for a caption of this article has been required
to play shibboleth since, like “a thing of beauty and a joy forever,” it
came forth from its ancient laboratory.
It is one of those happy expressions which embodies quite as much fancy
as fact.
The time has arrived for thoughtful men identified with labor—by which I
mean the laboring classes—to inquire, what does labor conquer? or what
has it conquered in all the ages? or what is it now conquering?
If by the term conquer is meant that labor, and only labor, removes
obstacles to physical progress—levels down mountains or tunnels
them—builds railroads and spans rivers and chasms with bridges—hews down
the forests—digs canals, transforms deserts into gardens of
fruitfulness—plows and sows and reaps, delves in the mines for coal and
all the precious metals—if it is meant that labor builds all the forges
and factories, and all the railroads that girdle the world and all the
ships that cleave the waves, and mans them, builds all the cities and
every monument in all lands—I say if such things are meant when we
vauntingly exclaim, “labor conquers everything,” no one will controvert
the declaration—no one will demur—with one acclaim the averments will
stand confessed.
But with all these grand achievements to the credit of labor, how stands
labor itself? Having subdued every obstacle to physical progress, what
is its condition? The answer is humiliating beyond the power of
exaggeration and the aphorism, “_Labor Omnia Vincit_,” becomes the most
conspicuous delusion that ever had a votary since time began.
It will be well for labor on Labor day to concentrate its vision on the
United States of America. The field is sufficiently broad and there are
enough object lessons in full view to engage the attention of the most
critical, and it will be strange indeed if the inquiry is not made. What
has labor conquered up to date in the United States? The inquiry is
fruitful of thought. What is the testimony of the labor press of the
country, corroborated by statistics which defy contradiction? It is
this, that the land is cursed with wage slavery—with the condition that
labor, which, according to the proverb, “conquers everything,” is itself
conquered and lies prostrate and manacled beneath the iron hoofs of a
despotism as cruel as ever cursed the world.
To hew and dig, to build and repair, to toil and starve, is not
conquering in any proper sense of the term. Conquerors are not clothed
in rags. Conquerors do not starve. The homes of conquerors are not huts,
dark and dismal, where wives and children moan like the night winds and
sob like the rain. Conquerors are not clubbed as if they were thieves,
shot down as if they were vagabond dogs, nor imprisoned as if they were
felons, by the decrees of despots. No! Conquerors rule—their word is
law. Labor is not in the condition of a conqueror in the United States.
Go to the coal mines, go to the New England factories, go to Homestead
and Pullman, go to the sweat shops and railroad shops, go to any place
in all of the broad land where anvils ring, where shuttles fly, where
toilers earn their bread in the sweat of their faces, and exclaim,
“_Labor Omnia Vincit_,” and you will be laughed to scorn.
Why is it that labor does not conquer anything? Why does it not assert
its mighty power? Why does it not rule in congress, in legislatures and
in courts? I answer because it is factionalized, because it will not
unify, because, for some inscrutable reason, it prefers division,
weakness and slavery, rather than unity, strength and victory.
Will it always be thus unmindful of its power and prerogatives? I do not
think so. Will it always tamely submit to degradation? I protest that it
will not. Labor has the ballot. It has redeeming power. I write from
behind prison bars, the victim of a petty tyrant. My crime was that I
sought to rescue Pullman slaves from the grasp of a monster of greed and
rapacity.
I think a day is coming when “_Labor Omnia Vincit_” will change
conditions. I hear the slogan of the clans of organized labor. It cheers
me. I believe with the poet that
A Labor Day is coming when our starry flag shall wave,
Above a land where famine no longer digs a grave,
Where money is not master, nor the workingman a slave—
For the right is marching on.