The Daily Worker Newspaper, March 27, 1926, Page 8

SS etesesisssssstsssssstenssssstnsssssssiassssenseseses THE A. F, OF L. AS OUR NEIGHBORS SEE IT. (Continued from page one) there exists an oppressive reactionary dictatorship, The A. F. of L. took up this case not to openly condemn this dictatorship but to authorize Mr. Green, president of the federation and semi-official representative of the imperialists “to act in accordance with his best judgment and information in this problem.” In the question of Tacna and Arica in which Yankee imperialism plays a definite role the convention decided to address itself to President Coolidge and to tell him that “the U. S. representatives who have no special interests to serve in the disputed territory should not permit anything to happen that might be dangerous to. the peace.” Re- garding the situation in Porto Rico where hundreds of thousands of workers and peasants are the object of the most horrible exploitation on the part of the North American capitalists, the convention did nothing but recommend to the Yankee government that a spectal commission be appointed to study this problem. Concerning the happenings in Nicaragua, Ecuador, and Bolivia, the A. F. of L. did not take any stand “because it lacks jnformation”! Such is the Interest of the A. F. of L. in Latin-American problems. It dodges them all and does not take any real proletarian stand or action in any of them. All of its resolutions are inspired in the evident desire to save the United States government and itself from all responsibility in the eyes of the masses of the Latin-American working class, And it cannot be otherwise. Santiago Iglesias, the Porto Rican so- clalist leader and Mr. Green explain it in this way—“It Is evident that the A. F. of L. is an effective agency to carry to Spanish America an Interpretation of the true spirit and humanitarian ideals of our nation.” “Our nation” is the United States. Its true spirit and its humani- tarian ideals are naturally the ideals of imperialism and of the capitalist - class that rules in the United States. The A. F. of L. is the agency for these ideals for Central and South America. The foregoing demonstrates by itself the true character of this or- ganization which desires and aspires to catch in its net the entire Latin- American labor movement. To defend ourselves from it is to defend olir- Selves against the instruments of the most powerful imperialism of the universe, “Let’s Make Him Eat the Dust” “A Portrait” Mr. Harry Gutman, fat and rosy as a balloon fish after his bath and shave, sat down to breakfast with a smile. The sight of food always pleased him, and it was a fine morn- ing. His fat, comfortable wife, who always said “yes” to everything he de- manded, sat pouring his coffee from a glittering percolator. “Well, dear, spring is here,” he said, rubbing his hands and tucking the napkin under his chin. “Um, um,” he grunted, with a pleased air, “sausages and griddle cakes, and ham and eggs; just the things I wanted!” His children were off in a select boarding school, and so breakfast was always a quiet, comfortable tete-a- | joyed tete at the Gutman suburban home. No hurry to be off to work; no dish- washing to think of, either, “Tl have to dismiss that chauffeur, Harty,” said Mrs, Gutman, “He really is getting awful.fresh. Last night I caught him making love to the cook, and right in the kitchen.” “Mm, mm,” mumbled Mr. Gutman, his mouth full of food. He wag not paying attention; he was reading the stock market quotations in the New York Times, his favorite newspaper. “Mm, mm, Sarah, just imagine; Stand- ard Oil and General Motors have gone up six points. That certainly is good news for us, I knew I had the right hunch when I bought that batch of them last month.” “I ordered a beautiful evening gown at Jacquard’s yesterday, Harry,” said Mrs. Gutman. “It looks fine on me, especially with my diamond sunburst at’ the corsage.” “Mm, mm,” said Mr. Gutman, still absorbed in the favorite page of his favorite newspaper. ’ After breakfast he motored ont- to the country club in his suburb and played a round of golf, The doctor had ordered him to go in for golf; he was really getting quite fat. He en- the game, and it threw him into the company of such influential peo- ple. At about eleven he started for the city by train, He reached New York at noon and went for his lunch to a certain quiet and expensive restaurant where other fat, rosy, well-dressed men of influence like himself dined— bankers, lawyers, corporation execu- tives and super-salesmen. At lunch he met a certain Mr. Blind- hetm; who was promoting a ‘big land boom at a summer resort near New York. He talked of ft all through lunch, and told of the wonderful chances for making money there, Mr. Gutman was quite tempted to invest, “But my living expenses run 80 high, I never have much free money,” he protested. “However, I'll think it over, and let you know in a day or so,” After lunch he went down to the bank of which he was president, It was a large ornate affair and always gave him a thrill of pride. As he walked through the marble and onyx hall the bank guard greeted him re- spectfully, the clerks looked up and said, “good morning,” meekly, and va- rious officials buzzed up to greet him. He felt like a king, solid and secure, He was annoyed when a pale little man in drab clothes stepped up and eagerly began chattering something. “Mr. Gutman,” the man said hum- bly, “they've cut off my strike benefit, and our shop is still out on strike, and I don’t know how I can support my family, for I've been sick—’ For the first time that day the auguet and genial Mr. Gutman frowned, “These matters must be taken up in the union,” ho said severely, “not here. Here I only conduct the bank business; we don’t mix the two. Go By Michael Gold back to the union and see the secre- tary.” The worker turned away and left submissively. He realized he had made a bad mistake. Yes, banks and trade unions should not be mixed in this manner, One meang struggle, the other wealth and Security. The union is only the “poor, old-fashioned father who gave a start in life to his brilliant son and is now looked. down upon, Mr. Gutman walked into his expen- sive mahogany fitted office and sat down at an enormous desk, The day’s work had begun for this modern $15,000 a year labor leader. Yes, labor leader, dear reader; did you think I was describing a member of the bourgeoisie? net Lassner? DON’T MISS AN ISSUE of THE NEW SATURDAY MAGAZINE SECTION of THE DAILY WORKER Next Week! MICHAEL GOLD STORIES MAURICE BECKER CARTOONS Good reading by and for real workers!