CHAPTER XIV

At the end of August the little family was united again in Seattle.

Almost the clearest picture of Carl I have is the eager look with which

he scanned the people stepping out of our car at the station, and the

beam that lit up his face as he spied us. There is a line in Dorothy

Canfield's "Bent Twig" that always appealed to us. The mother and father

were separated for a few days, to the utter anguish of the father

especially, and he remarked, "It's Hell to be happily married!" Every

time we were ever separated we felt just that.

In one of Carl's letters from Seattle he had written: "The 'Atlantic

Monthly' wants me to write an article on the I.W.W.!!" So the first

piece of work he had to do after we got settled was that. We were

tremendously excited, and never got over chuckling at some of the

moss-grown people we knew about the country who would feel outraged at

the "Atlantic Monthly" stooping to print stuff by that young radical.

And on such a subject! How we tore at the end, to get the article off on

time! The stenographer from the University came about two one Sunday

afternoon. I sat on the floor up in the guest-room and read the

manuscript to her while she typed it off. Carl would rush down more copy

from his study on the third floor. I'd go over it while Miss Van Doren

went over what she had typed. Then the reading would begin again. We

hated to stop for supper, all three of us were so excited to get the job

done. It _had_ to be at the main post-office that night by eleven, to

arrive in Boston when promised. At ten-thirty it was in the envelope,

three limp people tore for the car, we put Miss Van Doren on,--she was

to mail the article on her way home,--and Carl and I, knowing this was

an occasion for a treat if ever there was one, routed out a sleepy

drug-store clerk and ate the remains of his Sunday ice-cream supply.

I can never express how grateful I am that that article was written and

published before Carl died. The influence of it ramified in many and the

most unexpected directions. I am still hearing of it. We expected

condemnation at the time. There probably was plenty of it, but only one

condemner wrote. On the other hand, letters streamed in by the score

from friends and strangers bearing the general message, "God bless you

for it!"

That article is particularly significant as showing his method of

approach to the whole problem of the I.W.W., after some two years of

psychological study.

"The futility of much conventional American social analysis is due to

its description of the given problem in terms of its relationship to

some relatively unimportant or artificial institution. Few of the

current analyses of strikes or labor violence make use of the basic

standards of human desire and intention which control these phenomena. A

strike and its demands are usually praised as being law-abiding, or

economically bearable, or are condemned as being unlawful, or

confiscatory. These four attributes of a strike are important only as

incidental consequences. The habit of Americans thus to measure up

social problems to the current, temporary, and more or less accidental

scheme of traditions and legal institutions, long ago gave birth to our

national belief that passing a new law or forcing obedience to an old

one was a specific for any unrest. The current analysis of the I.W.W.

and its activities is an example of this perverted and unscientific

method. The I.W.W. analysis, which has given both satisfaction and a

basis for treating the organization, runs as follows: the organization

is unlawful in its activity, un-American in its sabotage, unpatriotic in

its relation to the flag, the government, and the war. The rest of the

condemnation is a play upon these three attributes. So proper and so

sufficient has this condemnatory analysis become, that it is a risky

matter to approach the problem from another angle. But it is now so

obvious that our internal affairs are out of gear, that any

comprehensive scheme of national preparedness would demand that full and

honest consideration be given to all forces determining the degree of

American unity, one force being this tabooed organization.

"It would be best to announce here a more or less dogmatic hypothesis to

which the writer will steadfastly adhere: that human behavior results

from the rather simple, arithmetical combination of the inherited nature

of man and the environment in which his maturing years are passed! Man

will behave according to the hints for conduct which the accidents of

his life have stamped into his memory mechanism. A slum produces a mind

which has only slum incidents with which to work, and a spoiled and

protected child seldom rises to aggressive competitive behavior, simply

because its past life has stored up no memory imprints from which a

predisposition to vigorous life can be built. The particular things

called the moral attributes of man's conduct are conventionally found by

contrasting this educated and trained way of acting with the exigencies

and social needs or dangers of the time. Hence, while his immoral or

unpatriotic behavior may fully justify his government in imprisoning or

eliminating him when it stands in some particular danger which his

conduct intensifies, this punishment in no way either explains his

character or points to an enduring solution of his problem. Suppression,

while very often justified and necessary in the flux of human

relationship, always carries a social cost which must be liquidated, and

also a backfire danger which must be insured against. The human being is

born with no innate proclivity to crime or special kind of unpatriotism.

Crime and treason are habit-activities, educated into man by

environmental influences favorable to their development. . . .

"The I.W.W. can be profitably viewed only as a psychological by-product

of the neglected childhood of industrial America. It is discouraging to

see the problem to-day examined almost exclusively from the point of

view of its relation to patriotism and conventional ventional commercial

morality. . . .

"It is perhaps of value to quote the language of the most influential of

the I.W.W. leaders.

"'You ask me why the I.W.W. is not patriotic to the United States. If

you were a bum without a blanket; if you left your wife and kids when

you went West for a job, and had never located them since; if your job

never kept you long enough in a place to qualify you to vote; if you

slept in a lousy, sour bunk-house, and ate food just as rotten as they

could give you and get by with it; if deputy sheriffs shot your

cooking-cans full of holes and spilled your grub on the ground; if your

wages were lowered on you when the bosses thought they had you down; if

there was one law for Ford, Suhr, and Mooney, and another for Harry

Thaw; if every person who represented law and order and the nation beat

you up, railroaded you to jail, and the good Christian people cheered

and told them to go to it, how in hell do you expect a man to be

patriotic? This war is a business man's war and we don't see why we

should go out and get shot in order to save the lovely state of affairs

that we now enjoy.'

"The argument was rather difficult to keep productive, because

gratitude--that material prerequisite to patriotism--seemed wanting in

their attitude toward the American government. Their state of mind could

be explained only by referring it, as was earlier suggested, to its

major relationships. The dominating concern of the I.W.W. is what Keller

calls the maintenance problem. Their philosophy is, in its simple

reduction, a stomach-philosophy, and their politico-industrial revolt

could be called without injustice a hunger-riot. But there is an

important correction to this simple statement. While their way of living

has seriously encroached on the urgent minima of nutrition, shelter,

clothing, and physical health, it has also long outraged the American

laboring-class traditions touching social life, sex-life, self-dignity,

and ostentation. Had the food and shelter been sufficient, the revolt

tendencies might have simmered out, were the migratory labor population

not keenly sensitive to traditions of a richer psychological life than

mere physical maintenance."

The temper of the country on this subject, the general closed attitude

of mind which the average man holds thereon, prompt me to add here a few

more of Carl's generalizations and conclusions in this article. If only

he were here, to cry aloud again and yet again on this point! Yet I know

there are those who sense his approach, and are endeavoring in every way

possible to make wisdom prevail over prejudice.

"Cynical disloyalty and contempt of the flag must, in the light of

modern psychology, come from a mind which is devoid of national

gratitude, and in which the United States stirs no memory of

satisfaction or happiness. To those of us who normally feel loyal to the

nation, such a disloyal sentiment brings sharp indignation. As an index

of our own sentiment and our own happy relations to the nation, this

indignation has value. As a stimulus to a programme or ethical

generalization, it is the cause of vast inaccuracy and sad injustice.

American syndicalism is not a scheming group dominated by an

unconventional and destructive social philosophy. It is merely a

commonplace attitude--not such a state of mind as Machiavelli or

Robespierre possessed, but one stamped by the lowest, most miserable

labor-conditions and outlook which American industrialism produces. To

those who have seen at first-hand the life of the western casual

laborer, any reflections on his gratitude or spiritual buoyancy seem

ironical humor.

"An altogether unwarranted importance has been given to the syndicalist

philosophy of the I.W.W. A few leaders use its phraseology. Of these

few, not half a dozen know the meaning of French syndicalism or English

guild socialism. To the great wandering rank and file, the I.W.W. is

simply the only social break in the harsh search for work that they have

ever had; its headquarters the only competitor of the saloon in which

they are welcome. . . .

"It is a conventional economic truism that American industrialism is

guaranteeing to some half of the forty millions of our industrial

population a life of such limited happiness, of such restrictions on

personal development, and of such misery and desolation when sickness or

accident comes, that we should be childish political scientists not to

see that from such an environment little self-sacrificing love of

country, little of ethics, little of gratitude could come. It is

unfortunate that the scientific findings of our social condition must

use words which sound strangely like the phraseology of the Socialists.

This similarity, however, should logically be embarrassing to the

critics of these findings, not to the scientists. Those who have

investigated and studied the lower strata of American labor have long

recognized the I.W.W. as purely a symptom of a certain distressing state

of affairs. The casual migratory laborers are the finished product of an

economic environment which seems cruelly efficient in turning out human

beings modeled after all the standards which society abhors. The history

of the migratory workers shows that, starting with the long hours and

dreary winters on the farms they ran away from, or the sour-smelling

bunk-house in a coal village, through their character-debasing

experience with the drifting 'hire and fire' life in the industries, on

to the vicious social and economic life of the winter unemployed, their

training predetermined but one outcome, and the environment produced its

type.

"The I.W.W. has importance only as an illustration of a stable American

economic process. Its pitiful syndicalism, its street-corner opposition

to the war, are the inconsequential trimmings. Its strike alone,

faithful as it is to the American type, is an illuminating thing. The

I.W.W., like the Grangers, the Knights of Labor, the Farmers' Alliance,

the Progressive Party, is but a phenomenon of revolt. The cure lies in

taking care of its psychic antecedents; the stability of our Republic

depends on the degree of courage and wisdom with which we move to the

task."

In this same connection I quote from another article:--

"No one doubts the full propriety of the government's suppressing

ruthlessly any interference of the I.W.W. with war-preparation. All

patriots should just as vehemently protest against all suppression of

the normal protest activities of the I.W.W. There will be neither

permanent peace nor prosperity in our country till the revolt basis of

the I.W.W. is removed. And until that is done, the I.W.W. remains an

unfortunate, valuable symptom of a diseased industrialism."

* * * * *

I watch, along with many others, the growth of bitterness and hysteria

in the treatment of labor spreading throughout our country, and I long,

with many others, for Carl, with his depth and sanity of understanding,

coupled with his passion for justice and democracy, to be somewhere in a

position of guidance for these troublous times.

I am reminded here of a little incident that took place just at this

time. An I.W.W. was to come out to have dinner with us--some other

friends, faculty people, also were to be there. About noon the telephone

rang. Carl went. A rich Irish brogue announced: "R---- can't come to

your party to-night." "Why is that?" "He's pinched. An' he wants t' know

can he have your Kant's 'Critique of Pure Reason' to read while he's in

jail."

An American Idyll: The Life of Carleton H. Parker · 第 14 / 17 章