The Daily Worker Newspaper, April 3, 1926, Page 8

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mom ane natr enema eer a URC RTA a RR TNS RTE RSC ORE ARLH hi NHL MA SERS, THE RED PERIL. : (Continued from page 1) help poor unprotected America “if those two nations should ever com- bine against us.” Can America be saved? You bet. There are plans by which such attacks and invasions can be repelled. In fact, Col. Mitchell himself has worked those plans out. Meantime, we can turn to another savior of the republic, William Howard Gardiner, speaking before the United States Naval Institute in February, on “National Policy and Naval Power,” also sees the Red . Peril as the chief reason for increased armaments. What is America’s major problem across the Atlantic, according to Mr. Gardiner? It is to “maintain or exercise the balance of power as between western Europe and Russia.” In Asia, too, Russia worries American capital. The United States cannot treat Russia as a friend in Asia (as a possible ally against Japan) while fighting Russia in West- ern Europe (as the enemy of world capitalism). Another patriot who sees red is Congressman Underhill. On March 5, this gentleman from Massachusetts rose in the house to defend the retention of the Philippines by the United States. There used to be many excellent arguments on that side of the question. The first was—as a matter of course—that the United States was conferring great benefits on the islands. The second was that if left to themselves the Philippines would become the prey of Japan, the first helpless victim of the Yellow Peril. HE truth of the matter was indicated as far back as 1899 by Whitelaw Reid, when he toured the United States propagandizing for the Span- ish-American peace treaty and the Philippines purchase. Reid said frankly at that time that the Phillppines were only a step to China, “To extend now the authority of the United States over the great Philippine archipelago,” he said, “is to fence In the China Sea and secure ae. . commanding position on the other side of the Pacific doubling our control of it and of the fabulous trade the twentieth century will see It bear. . . . The trade of the Philippines will be but a drop In the bucket compared to that of China, for which they glve Us an un- approachable foothold.” The Philippines were to American capital what Walhalwal was to British capital and Kiaow-Chow to German capital: a strategic base for the exploitation of China. The islands are still that. But American Im- perialism fears Russian Influence In China, hence the gentleman from Massachusetts in arguing the retaining of the Philippines part of the American empire takes this line: “ HINA today is a seething mass of Insurrection, of revolution, of war, ,of famine and pestilence, and yet all the great nations of the earth have guaranteed her integrity. What does that guaranty stand for? If that guaranty stands in the way of Russia and the Soviet government It would rank with the German ‘scrap of paper.’ The Soviets go In there and incite and excite all these disturbances and with their money and their power are trying to make of China a vehicle to establish thru- out the world their pernicious form of government. . . , My view is that as long as the United States has contro! of the Philippines and has its government in the Philippines that is a guaranty of peace in the Far East, but the moment we give up our jurisdiction over there, we invite war not only for ourselves but practically for all the nations of the world.” The imperialist powers—with America at their head—fear the world’s working class government. They fear most of all the example it has Mrs. Breznak - - Publicity matter issued by the jhas been making $18 a week. Mrs. Passaic Textile Strikers’ United |Breznak makes $16.08. Front Committee, by the famous novelist, Mary Heaton Vorse. se. 8 HE never misses picket line. You always see her tramping sturdily along, a short, powerflul figure, broad- shouldered, deep-breasted, a heavy- built woman, strong. Her mouth is a determined line. Her nose juts out obstinately. Her eyes are two bright sparkling points. Humor and infelli- gence are in them and often indigna- tion and anger. She never misses a Strike meeting. After the meeting you could see her in the hall talking. Maybe she’s telling what happened on the picket line. Maybe she’s telling how her husband first made fifteen cents an hour and pretty soon that is all the workers will be getting if they don’t win this strike. Round and round, she’s always at _ Strike meetings at night. She is a delegate of the united front committee from the Botany mills. Some way she embodies the spirit of the strike more than any other one person. Strong, powerful, persistent—she is fortified with the indignation of years. That is Mrs. Anna Breznak. She is not an individual—she embodies the working mothers, whose slow anger is now kindled. HE reporters have called several of our young picket leaders Joans of Arc of the strikers. It is fun for a young girl to lead a parade and see the glitter of danger flickering around in the air, When you are young any change has romance. When you are fifty-two years old, crawling out of bed at five o'clock in the morning and walking miles and miles, passing and repassing the police, patroling the high ramparts of the mill back and forth, miles and miles, is quite a job. There is a sturdy defiance about her as she plods up and down. She is tireless. She always acts as if there was an inward indignation boiling in her. And why shouldn't there be? ERE is a part of the true story of Anna Breznak. She came to this country from Czecho-Slovakia when she was a very young girl, She mar- ried a coal digger and went to live in rf | UH HHT TL brie Ell tis ; petcee Santi fifteen cents an hour. This has been Anna Breznak’s ‘life. Always more children. Children to be looked after. Children under school age to be cared for. A whole family living in four rooms and with herseli working in the mills. A life full of effert and toil, of bringing up nine children. A lifetime spent in the service of the mills, piling up money for somebody else. At the end of all these years of effort nothing to show for it except her nine children. No house for them. No possessions. A bare living and nothing else to show for a lifetime of work. Then a wage clash, 4 mea Mrs. Bréznak went on strike.” She went on strike with all the power of her strong body, with all the power and high courage which made it pos- sible for her to bring up her children. She went on strike with all the strength of her powerful body that makes it possible for her when over fifty to stand the gaff of the terrible night shift in the mills, ten hours a night, five nights a week, and a quar- ter of an hour at midnight for all recess. Indignation was her motor power. Mrs, Breznak is mad clear thru, a fiery indignation sends a hot color to her cheeks when she thinks of what happened to the workers in Passaic. Mrs. Breznak goes around the picket line to the halls where the strikers get their coffee. From there to the meet- ings and to the picket line again and to strike meetings at night. She plods thru the long strikers’ day and she is never weary. The hot fire of indigna- tion never dies down. It is there at the heart of the strike, smouldering a red-hot coal. There is no girl that is as tireless as she, for she knows the whole story of a workers’ life. That is why she is striking with the indigna- tion bred of the accumulated injustice of years, Mrs. Breznak went to Wash- ington she took with her her in- dignation. She walked down thru the LaFollette about her nine children. She told how her husband made fif- teen cents an hour when he first be- work in the mills, The reporters big set to the working class in all countries. - By Mary Heaton Vorse her. Her answers seemed almost un- believable. She answered loud and clear, did Mrs. Breznak. She told her story to senators, and she did not speak for herself alone. She spoke for all those other mothers in Passaic who work all night because the rich mills do not pay enough to their hus- |she. bands to support their families, “Sure I got to work nights,” says Mrs. Breznak, hands on knees, chew- ing a piece of gum. “How would we eat—me and all the kids? You see the more kids you got, the more young- sters in the house, the more in Pas- saic a woman’s got to work nights.” She spoke as tho she were telling a commonplace. .A. murmur went thru the -company.. Borah called it pitiful. Yes, it is pitiful that the mothers of children have to work nights. “The more children they got the more they got to work nights,” but it is a com- monplace in Passaic. That’s the way life goes in Passaic. Mrs. Breznak finished talking to the senators, and by the time she had fin- ished talking and the other members and LaFollette were sure that they ought to have a senate investigation. More ought to be knewn of the tex- tile workers of the country, was what Mrs, Breznak said to them in a tone that had hot indignation behind it. No one was ever more convincing than Mrs, Breznak and the others took a look around. They sat awhfle in the senate gallery and they walked around the imposing Capitol grounds and wondered if the grave gentlemen inside there were going to do So much as give the textile workers a hearing. Next day Mrs, Breznak knocked on the door of the white house and they let her in, but she could not see the: From the white house the way led to the department of labor. Mrs. Brez- nak told Secretary Davis the story of Passaic. So she went thru the picket lines at Washington tramping stur- dily along. All the senators in the white house and the department of labor heard her story, told from the white heat of her indignation. She had finished talking, Senators Borah'never misses a picket line. - The Factory Child By a Worker Correspondent. Like the trampled flower she lay there In the cabin on the hill. “Jennie’s sick,” said Tom, her brother, *To the foreman of the mill. Tossing in her_restless fever On the blanket soiled and torn, Lay this workwern child of sorrow Eight sad years gince she was born. Then her fevered fancy wandered And her eyes grew wide with fear ‘Mamma, hurry there’s the whistle I'll be late if I lie here. See the big wheel above the window What a big one, see it whirl! Mamma, I’m so tired of working, And I’m such a little girl.” : “Can’t I have a dolly, mamma, Like the one I saw today, Are there mills in heaven mamma, Won't God let me run and play? See how fast the spools are running Faster, faster, oh, my head! No, I did not do it, no sir, i Please, I did not break the thread.” “Here, my finger’s caught, its bleeding ios War hawk end tat ea ! ‘ Mamma, quick, the wheel will kill me, Stop it! Oh it hurts me so!” Then the “Last Boss” paused beside her; Fanned her with his cooling breath Touched her beating heart and stopped it; BSoothed her with the peace of death. Ee Er e————

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