Chapter 9

Political Prisoners

Finding that a Suffrage Committee in the House and a report in the

Senate had not silenced our banners, the Administration cast about for

another plan by which to stop the picketing. This time they turned

desperately to longer terms of imprisonment. They were indeed hard

pressed when they could choose such a cruel and stupid course.

Our answer to this policy was more women on the picket line, on the

outside, and a protest on the inside of prison.

We decided, in the face of extended imprisonment, to demand to be

treated as political prisoners. We felt that, as a matter of principle,

this was the dignified and self-respecting thing to do, since we had

offended politically, not criminally. We believed further that a

determined, organized effort to make clear to a wider public the

political nature of the offense would intensify the Administration’s

embarrassment and so accelerate their final surrender.

It fell to Lucy Burns, vice chairman of the organization, to be the

leader of the new protest. Miss Burns is in appearance the very symbol

of woman in revolt. Her abundant and glorious red hair burns and is not

consumed—a flaming torch. Her body is strong and vital. It is said that

Lucy Stone had the “voice” of the pioneers. Lucy Burns without doubt

possessed the “voice” of the modern suffrage movement. Musical,

appealing, persuading—she could move the most resistant person. Her

talent as an orator is of the kind that makes for instant intimacy with

her audience. Her emotional quality is so powerful that her

intellectual capacity, which is quite as great, is not always at once

perceived.

I find myself wanting to talk about her as a human being rather than as

a leader of women. Perhaps it is because she has such winning, lovable

qualities. It was always difficult for her to give all of her energy

and power to a movement. She yearned to play, to read, to study, to be

luxuriously indolent, to revel in the companionship of her family, to

which she is ardently devoted; to do any one of a hundred things more

pleasant than trying to reason with a politician or an unawakened

member of her own sex. But for these latter labors she had a most

gentle and persuasive genius, and she would not shrink from hours of

close argument to convince a person intellectually and emotionally.

Unlike Miss Paul, however, her force is not nonresistant. Once in the

combat she takes delight in it; she is by nature a rebel. She is an

ideal leader for the stormy and courageous attack—reckless and yet

never to the point of unwisdom.

From the time Miss Burns and Miss Paul met for the first time in Cannon

Row Police Station, London, they have been constant co- workers in

suffrage. Both were students abroad at the time they met. They were

among the hundred women arrested for attempting to present petitions

for suffrage to Parliament. This was the first time either of them had

participated in a demonstration. But from then on they worked together

in England and Scotland organizing, speaking, heckling members of the

government, campaigning at bye- elections; going to Holloway Prison

together, where they joined the Englishwomen on hunger strike. Miss

Burns remained organizing in Scotland while Miss Paul was obliged to

return to America after serious illness following a thirty day period

of imprisonment, during all of which time she was forcibly fed.

Miss Burns and she did not meet again until 1913—three years having

intervened—when they undertook the national work on Congress.

Throughout the entire campaign Miss Burns and Miss Paul counseled with

one another on every point of any importance. This combination of the

cool strategist and passionate rebel—each sharing some of the

attributes of the other-has been a complete and unsurpassed leadership.

You have now been introduced, most inadequately, to Lucy Burns, who was

to start the fight inside the prison.

She had no sooner begun to organize her comrades for protest than the

officials sensed a “plot,” and removed her at once to solitary

confinement. But they were too late. Taking the leader only hastened

the rebellion. A forlorn piece of paper was discovered, on which was

written their initial demand, It was then passed from prisoner to

prisoner through holes in the wall surrounding leaden pipes, until a

finished document had been perfected and signed by all the prisoners.

This historic document-historic because it represents the first

organized group action ever made in America to establish the status of

political prisoners—said:

To the Commissioners of the Distinct of Columbia:

As political prisoners, we, the undersigned, refuse to work while in

prison. We have taken this stand as a matter of principle after careful

consideration, and from it we shall not recede.

This action is a necessary protest against an unjust sentence. In

reminding President Wilson of his pre-election promises toward woman

suffrage we were exercising the right of peaceful petition, guaranteed

by the Constitution of the United States, which declares peaceful

picketing is legal in the District of Columbia. That we are unjustly

sentenced has been well recognized—when President Wilson pardoned the

first group of suffragists who had been given sixty days in the

workhouse, and again when Judge Mullowny suspended sentence for the

last group of picketers. We wish to point out the inconsistency and

injustice of our sentences—some of us have been given sixty days, a

later group thirty days, and another group given a suspended sentence

for exactly the same action.

Conscious, therefore, of having acted in accordance with the highest

standards of citizenship, we ask the Commissioners of the District to

grant us the rights due political prisoners. We ask that we no longer

be segregated and confined under locks and bars in small groups, but

permitted to see each other, and that Miss Lucy Burns, who is in full

sympathy with this letter, be released from solitary confinement in

another building and given back to us.

We ask exemption from prison work, that our legal right to consult

counsel be recognized, to have food sent to us from outside, to supply

ourselves with writing material for as much correspondence as we may

need, to receive books, letters, newspapers, our relatives and friends.

Our united demand for political treatment has been delayed, because on

entering the workhouse we found conditions so very bad that before we

could ask that the suffragists be treated as political prisoners, it

was necessary to make a stand for the ordinary rights of human beings

for all the inmates. Although this has not been accomplished we now

wish to bring the important question of the status of political

prisoners to the attention of the commissioners, who, we are informed,

have full authority to make what regulations they please for the

:District prison and workhouse.

The Commissioners are requested to send us a written reply so that we

may be sure this protest has reached them.

Signed by,

MARY WINSOR, LUCY BRANHAM, ERNESTINE HARA, HILDA BLUMBERG, MAUD MALONE,

PAULINE F. ADAMS, ELEANOR. A. CALNAN, EDITH AINGE, ANNIE ARNEIL,

DOROTHY J. BARTLETT, MARGARET FOTHERINGHAM.

The Commissioners’ only answer to this was a hasty transfer of the

signers and the leader, Miss Burns, to the District Jail, where they

were put in solitary confinement. The women were not only refused the

privileges asked but were denied some of the usual privileges allowed

to ordinary criminals.

Generous publicity was given to these reasonable demands, and a

surprisingly wide-spread protest followed the official denial of them.

Scores of committees went to the District Commissioners. Telegrams

backing up the women’s demand again poured in upon all responsible

administrators, from President Wilson down. Not even foreign diplomats

escaped protest or appeal.

Miss Vera Samarodin sent to the Russian Ambassador the following

touching letter, concerning her sister, which is translated from the

Russian:—

The Russian Ambassador,

Washington, D.C.

Excellency:

I am appealing to you to help a young Russian girl imprisoned in the

workhouse near Washington. Her name is Nina Samarodin. I have just come

from one of the two monthly visits I am allowed to make her, as a

member of her family.

The severity and cruelty of the treatment she is receiving at Occoquan

are so much greater than she would have to suffer in Russia for the

simple political offense she is accused of having committed that I hope

you will be able to intercede with the officials of this country for

her.

Her offense, aside from the fact that she infringed no law nor

disturbed the peace, had only a political aim, and was proved to be

political by the words of the judge who sentenced her, for he declared

that because of the innocent inscription on her banner he would make

her sentence light.

Since her imprisonment she has been forced to wear the dress of a

criminal, which she would not in Russia; she has had to eat only the

coarse and unpalatable food served the criminal inmates, and has not

been allowed, as she would in Russia, to have other food brought to

her; nor has she, as she would be there been under the daily care of a

physician. She is not permitted to write letters, nor to have free

access to books and other implements of study. Nina Samarodin has

visibly lost in weight and strength since her imprisonment, and she has

a constant headache from hunger.

Her motive in holding the banner by the White House, I feel, cannot but

appeal to you, Excellency, for she says it was the knowledge that her

family were fighting in Russia in this great war for democracy, and

that she was cut off from serving with them that made her desire to do

what she could to help the women of this nation achieve the freedom her

own people have.

Will you, if it is within your power, attempt to have her recognized as

a political prisoner, and relieve the severity of the treatment she is

receiving for obeying this impulse born of her love of liberty and the

dictates of her conscience?

I have, Excellency, the honor to be,

Respectfully, your countrywoman,

(Signed) VERA SAMARODIN,

Baltimore, Maryland.

Another Russian, Maria Moravsky, author and poet, who had herself been

imprisoned in Czarist Russia and who was touring America at the time of

this controversy, expressed her surprise that our suffrage prisoners

should be treated as common criminals. She wrote:[1] “I have been twice

in the Russian prison; life in the solitary cell was not sweet; but I

can assure you it was better than that which American women suffragists

must bear.

[1] Reprinted from The Suffragist, Feb. 8, 1919.

“We were permitted to read and write; we wore our own clothes; we were

not forced to mix with the criminals; we did no work. (Only a few women

exiled to Siberia for extremely serious political crimes were compelled

to work.) And our guardians and even judges respected us; they felt we

were victims, because we struggled for liberty.”

The Commissioners, who bad to bear the responsibility of an answer to

these protests and to the demand of the prisoners, contended to all

alike that political prisoners did not exist.

“We shall be happy to establish a precedent,” said the women.

“But in America,” stammered the Commissioners, “there is no need for

such a thing as political prisoners.”

“The very fact that we can be sentenced to such long terms for a

political offense shows that there does exist, in fact, a group of

people who have come into conflict with state power for dissenting from

the prevailing political system,” our representatives answered.

We cited definitions of political offenses by eminent criminologists,

penologists, sociologists, statesmen and historians. We declared that

all authorities on political crime sustained our contention and that we

clearly came under the category of political, if any crime. We pointed

as proof to James Bryce, George Sigerson, Maurice Parmelee and even to

Clemenceau, who defined the distinction between political offenses and

common law crimes thus: “ . . . theoretically a crime committed in the

interest of the criminal is a common law crime, while an offense

committed in the public interest is a political crime.”[1]

[1] Speech before the French Chamber of Deputies May 16, 1876,

advocating amnesty for those who participated in the Commune of 1871.

From the Annales de la Chambre des Députés, 1876, v. 2, pp. 44-48.

We called to their attention the established custom of special

treatment of political prisoners in Russia, France, Italy and even

Turkey.[2]

[2] Those interested in the question of political prisoners and their

treatment abroad may want to read Concerning Political Prisoners,

Appendix 6.

We told them that as early as 1872 the International Prison Congress

meeting in London recommended a distinction in the treatment of

political and common law criminals and the resolution of recommendation

was “agreed upon by the representatives of all the Powers of Europe and

America—with the tacit concurrence of British and Irish officials.”[3]

[3] Siegerson, Political Prisoners at Home and Abroad, p. 10.

Mr. John Koren, International Prison Commissioner[4] for the United

States, was throughout this agitation making a study of this very

problem. As chairman of a Special Committee of the American Prison

Association, empowered to investi- gate the problem of political

prisoners for America, he made a report at the annual meeting of the

American Prison Associ- ation in New York, October, 1919, entitled “The

Political Of fenders and their Status in Prison”[5] in which he says:

[4] Appointed and sponsored by the Department of State as delegate to

the International Prison Congress.

[5] Mr. Koren discusses the political offender from the penological,

not the social, point of view.

“The political offender . . . must be measured by a different rule, and

. . . is a creature of extraordinary and temporary conditions . . . .

“There are times in which the tactics used in the pursuit of political

recognition may result in a technical violation of the law for which

imprisonment ensues, as witness the suffragist cases in Washington . .

. . These militants were completely out of place in a workhouse, . . .

they could not be made to submit to discipline fashioned to meet the

needs of the derelicts of society, and . . . they therefore destroyed

it for the entire institution.”

There was no doubt in the official mind but that our claim was just.

But the Administration would not grant this demand, as such, of

political prisoners. It must continue to persuade public opinion that

our offense was not of a political nature; that it was nothing more

than unpleasant and unfortunate riotous conduct in the capital. The

legend of “a few slightly mad women seeking notoriety” must be

sustained. Our demand was never granted, but it was kept up until the

last imprisonment and was soon reinforced by additional protest

tactics. Our suffrage prisoners, however, made an important

contribution toward establishing this reform which others will

consummate. They were the first in America to organize and sustain this

demand over a long period of time. In America we maintain a most

backward policy in dealing with political prisoners. We have neither

regulation nor precedent for special treatment of them. Nor have we

official flexibility.

This controversy was at its height in the press and in the public mind

when President Wilson sent the following message, through a New York

State suffrage leader, on behalf of the approaching New York referendum

on state woman suffrage:

“May I not express to you my very deep interest in the campaign in New

York for the adoption of woman suffrage, and may I not say that I hope

no voter will be influenced in his decision with regard to the great

matter by anything the so-called pickets may have done here in

Washington. However justly they may have laid themselves open to

serious criticism, their action represents, I am sure, so small a

fraction of the women of the country who are urging the adoption of

woman suffrage that it would be most unfair and argue a narrow view to

allow their actions to prejudice the cause itself. I am very anxious to

see the great state of New York set a great example in this matter.”

This statement showed a political appreciation of the growing power of

the movement. Also it would be difficult to prove that the “small

fraction” had not shown political wisdom in injecting into the campaign

the embarrassment of a controversy which was followed by the above

statement of *the President. In the meantime he continued to imprison

in Washington the “so-called pickets” whom he hoped would not influence

the decision of the men voters of New York. It will be remembered, in

passing, that the New York voters adopted suffrage at this time,

although they had rejected it two years earlier. If the voters of New

York were influenced at all by the “so-called pickets,” could even

President Wilson himself satisfactorily prove that it had been an

adverse influence?

Jailed for Freedom · 第 9 / 27 章