The Americans

by Hugo Münsterberg

Thus on the whole a progress has been made all along the line. It is true that some states have still much to do in order to come up with the most advanced states, and the labour unions have still many demands in store which have so far been nowhere complied with—as, for instance, that for the introduction of the Swiss referendum, and so forth. Government insurance is not on this programme—one point in which the American working-man remains individualistic. He prefers to make provision for those dependent on him, against old age, accident and illness, in his own way, by membership in unions or insurance companies. As a fact, more than half the labouring men are insured. Then too the number of industrial concerns is increasing which make a voluntary provision for their employees against illness and old age. This was started by railroad companies, and the largest systems fully realize that it is in their interest to secure steady labour by putting a pension clause in the contract. When a workman takes work under companies which offer such things, he feels it to be a voluntary industrial agreement, while state insurance would offend his sense of independence.

The state has had to deal with the labour question again in the matter of strikes, lockouts, boycotts, and black-lists. During the last two decades of the nineteenth century, there were 22,793 strikes in the country, which involved 117,509 workers; the loss in wages to the workmen was $257,000,000 and in profit to the employers $122,000,000; besides that $16,000,000 were contributed to aid the strikes, so that the total loss made about $400,000,000. The problems here in question are of course much more important than the mere financial loss. About 51 per cent. of these strikes resulted successfully for the workmen, 13 per cent. partially successfully, and in 36 per cent. the employers won.

Since 1741, when the bakers of New York City left work and were immediately condemned for conspiracy, there has been no lack of strikes in the country. The first great strike was among sailors in 1803, but frequent strikes did not occur until about 1830. The first strike of really historical importance was on the railroads in 1877; great irregularities and many street riots accompanied the cessation of work, and the state militia had to be called out to suppress the disturbances in Cincinnati, St. Louis, Chicago, and Pittsburg. The losses were tremendous, the whole land suffered from the tumults, and in the end the working-men won nothing. When in the year 1883 all the telegraphers in the country left their work and demanded additional payment for working on Sunday, most of the country was in sympathy with them; but here too the employers, although they lost millions of dollars, were successful. In 1886 there were great strikes again in the railroad systems of the Southwest.

The bitterness reached its highest point in 1892, when the Carnegie Steel Works at Homestead were the scenes of disorder. Wages were the matter under dispute; the company, which could not come to an agreement with the labour union, proposed to exclude organized labour and introduced non-union workmen. The union sought by the use of violence to prevent the strangers from working; the company called for aid from the state; the union still opposed even the militia, and actual battles took place, which only the declaration of martial law by the governor, after the loss of many lives, was able to suppress.

The Chicago strike in 1894 was more extensive. It began with a strike in the Pullman factories in Chicago, and at its height succeeded in stopping the traffic on a quarter of all American railroads. The interruption of railway connections meant a loss to every person in the country, and the total loss is estimated at $80,000,000. The worst accompaniments of strikes soon appeared—riots, intimidations, assaults, and murders. And again it was necessary to call out troops to restore peace. Great wage disputes followed presently in the iron and steel trades; but these were all surpassed in inner significance by the great coal strike of the winter before last.

The conditions of labour in the anthracite coal mines of Pennsylvania were unfavourable to the labourers. They had bettered themselves in a strike in 1900, but the apparently adequate wages for a day’s labour yielded a very small annual income, since there was little employment at some seasons of the year. The working-men felt that the coal trusts refused to raise the wages by juggling with arguments; the capitalists tried to prove to them that the profit on coal did not permit a higher wage. But the labourers knew too well that the apparently low profits were due only to the fact that the trusts had watered their stock, and especially that the coal mines were operated in connection with railroads under the same ownership, so that all profits could be brought on the books to the credit of the railroads instead of the mines. The trades-unions thought the time was ripe for demanding eight hours a day, a ten per cent. increase in wages, and a fundamental recognition of trades-unions, along with a few other technical points. The organized miners, under their leader, Mitchell, offered to wait a month, while the points of difference might be discussed between both parties; Senator Hanna, whose death a short time later took from politics one of the warmest friends of labour, offered his services as mediator, and left no doubt that the workmen would accept some compromise.

In spite of this moderation of the working-men, the representatives of the mine owners refused in any way to treat with them. Their standpoint was that if they recognized the trades-unions in their deliberations, they were beginning on a course which they might not know how to stop; if eight hours were demanded to-day by the trades-unions, seven hours might be demanded in the same way next year. The employers thought it high time once for all to break up the dictatorial power of the trades-unions. President Baer explained that trades-unions are a menace to all American industry. The strike continued. Now the anthracite miners produce five million tons every month, which supply all the homes in the eastern part of the country. A cold winter came on, and the lack of coal throughout the country brought about a condition which resembled the misery and sufferings of a time of siege. In many places it was not even a matter of price, although this was four times what it ordinarily is, but the supply of coal was actually used up. Schools and churches had to be closed in many places. And now the public understood at last perfectly clearly that, if the trades-unions wanted to exert their whole power, the country would be absolutely helpless under their tyranny. Nevertheless, the embitterment turned most strongly against the employers, who still affirmed that there was nothing to arbitrate, but that the workmen simply must give in.

The workmen then put themselves on the wrong side by threatening with violence all men who came to take their places in the mines; indeed, they forced back by barbarous methods the engineers who came to pump out the water which was collecting in the mines. Troops had to be called, but at that moment the President took the first steps toward a solution of the problem by calling representatives of both parties to Washington. A commission was finally appointed, composed of representatives of both parties and well-known men who were neutrally inclined, and after Pierpont Morgan on the side of the capitalists gave the signal to consent to arbitration, the coal miners went back to work. The commission met, and some time later in the year 1903 decided about half of the points under dispute in favour of the miners, the other half against them. This was by no means the last strike; the building trades in many parts of the country, and specially in New York, were thoroughly demoralized during the year 1903, the movement proceeding from the strikes of 5,000 bridge builders: then too, the textile workers of the East and miners of the South have been restless. And at the present time, every day sees some small strike or other inaugurated, and any day may see some very large strike declared. It was the coal strike, however, which set the nation thinking and showed up the dangers which are threatening.

The results of the coal strike had shown the friends of trades-unions more clearly than ever the strength which lies in unity. They had seen that results could be achieved by united efforts such as could never have been gotten by the unorganized working-man. They had seen with satisfaction that the trades-unions had taken a conservative part by putting off the great strike as long as possible; and they had seen that the employers would not have consented for their part to any arbitration. In the end not only many of the union demands had been granted, but, more than that, the policy of the trades-unions had been put in the most favourable light. A whole country had to suffer, human lives were sacrificed and millions lost, and in the end the trades-unions won their point; if the mine owners had been willing in the autumn to do what they had to do in winter, a great deal of injury would have been spared. But the trades-unions could truthfully say that they had been true to their policy and had always preferred peace to war. The majority of votes within the trades-unions was against thoughtless and unnecessary strife, against declaring a strike until all other means had been tried. Many people felt that the interests of that neutral party, the nation at large, were better looked out for by the more thoughtful union leaders than by such capitalists as were the Pennsylvania coal magnates.

On the other hand, it was felt that the most calmly planned strikes can lead to embitterment and violence, and the tyrannical and murderous suppression of the non-union working-man. And here the American sense of freedom is touched. Every man has the right to decide freely under what conditions he shall work; the strike-breaker was regarded as a hero, and the trusts did their best to convince the world that the interference of the trades-unions in the movements of non-union workmen is a menace to American democracy. The unionists admit that it is unlawful power which they have used, but pretend that they had a moral right; they say that every working-man has a claim on the factory more than his weekly wage: for he has contributed to its success; he has in a way a moral share, which brings him no income, but which ought to assure him of his position. And now, if during a strike an outside person comes in and takes his place, it is like being robbed of something which he owns, and he has the right of asserting his claim with such means as any man would use on being assaulted.