We caught a glimpse, in the chapter describing the attempt to wreck St. Patrick’s Cathedral, of the peace-time game of the anarchist group; we looked into their meeting places and their disorderly minds; and those of us who are familiar with the localities which were their haunts in New York City will have been enabled to visualize with some clearness the squalid surroundings in which they worked. War gave them new opportunities, and possibly a few high-lights which the Bomb Squad caught of the anarchist, I. W. W., and Russian activities since 1914 may prove to be readable. If they are readable the author should be content, but he will not be unless he has put before his people something which may serve as a warning for the period of readjustment which the end of war has opened.
An anarchist publication appeared in New York, dated November 15, 1918, four days after Germany had signed the armistice, with this legend on its front page, in large type:
“The War Is Dead: Long Live the Revolution!”
It reflects the joyful frame of mind with which orthodox anarchists received the news of peace, and hailed the beginning of what they thought would be unrestrained guerilla warfare on law and class. They had done very little to help the war, and their two chief figures, Emma Goldman and Alexander Berkman, were in prison for obstructing the draft of America’s army. Yet the anarchists as a class were extremely happy. Let us review some of the reasons why.
On October 25, 1915, Har Dayal, who had fled at the outbreak of war to the protection of Berlin, where he was placed in charge of the Indian Nationalist Committee, wrote from Amsterdam, Holland, to Alexander Berkman in New York. The letter follows:
“Dear Comrade:
“I am well and busy and sad. Can you send me some earnest and sincere comrades, men and women, who would like to help our Indian revolutionary movement in some way or other? I need the coöperation of very earnest comrades. Perhaps you can find them in New York or at Paterson. They should be real fighters, I. W. W.’s or anarchists. Our Indian party will make all necessary arrangements.
“If some comrades wish to come, they should come to Holland. We have a centre in Amsterdam, and Dutch comrades are working with us. If some comrades are ready to come, please telegraph me from New York to the following address:
“‘Israel Aaronson, c/o Madame Kercher,
“‘116 Oude Scheveningerweg,
“‘Scheveningen, Holland.’“My assumed name is ‘Israel Aaronson.’ Kindly don’t telegraph in your own name. The word ‘yes’ will suffice. The Rotterdam-Amerika Line will receive instructions from us here to give tickets, etc., to as many persons as you recommend. All financial arrangements will be made by our party.
“News from India is good. We have lost (?) some very brave comrades in the recent skirmishes.
“It would be better if you could intimate in your telegram how many comrades wish to come. For instance, put the number in some sentence. I shall understand, e. g., Five months’ holiday coming. Etc., etc.
“The need for the services of comrades is urgent. Please do come to our help. We are fighting against heavy odds.
“With love and respect.
“Your for the Fight,
“Har Dayal.”
“P. S. Kindly be very careful in keeping everything secret and confidential. When comrades arrive they should go and see Domela Nieuwenhuis, 20 Burgmestre Schooklaan, Hilversum (near Amsterdam). He will tell them where to meet me. Please also write a letter to the above address in Scheveningen, in addition to the telegram. Telegram may be intercepted.
“H. D.”
Not satisfied apparently that this letter would reach Berkman, Har Dayal wrote another a week later, which read as follows:
“Address: Israel Aaronson,
“c/o Madame Kercher,
“116 Oude Scheveningerweg,
“Scheveningen.“Dear Comrade:
“I am well and busy. Can you send me some earnest and sincere comrades men and women, to help our Indian revolutionary party at this juncture? They should be persons of good character. If Tannenbaum is free, would he like to come?
“Please keep this matter strictly secret and confidential. Kindly don’t discuss it with too many people.
“This is a great opportunity for our party. I need the coöperation of earnest comrades for very important work. Several of our comrades have come from India with encouraging news and messages.
“If some comrades can come, please wire and write to the above address to my assumed name, ‘Israel Aaronson.’ I shall send you money immediately to the name which you telegraph. Let it be a name beginning with a B. I shall understand. Please don’t telegraph in your own name.
“Kindly also word the telegram in such a way that I can understand how many comrades are coming. If five comrades wish to come, please wire:
“‘Five hundred dollars job vacant come.’
Just put the number of comrades before the ‘hundred.’ Or use any other device.
“Kindly also send me names and addresses of the prominent anarchist comrades in Denmark, France, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, Austria, and other European countries. Please also send letters of introduction for me to them from Emma or yourself, if you know them.”
And so on. There is enough to show the company the Hindu-German intriguers kept, and to show that the Hindu committee in Berlin had enough money to buy mercenaries from the American anarchist group, for which the American brokers would hardly go unrewarded. Rintelen, within a week of his arrival in the United States in May, 1915, had tried to hire anarchists to blow up shipping and start strikes in munitions plants. It further shows that during that week in October of 1915, Har Dayal had a bright thought that if he could only get letters from Emma Goldman or Berkman introducing him to the anarchists of Europe, and could perhaps introduce to them in turn his lieutenant, Frank Tannenbaum, from America—the same who stormed St. Alphonsus’ church with a gang of I. W. W.’s in 1914, demanding food—he could hoodwink the anarchists into believing that he was playing their game, and really make good use of them in playing his game—which of course was Berlin’s.
As it happened, Tannenbaum was busy. So was Emma. So was Berkman, who received the letter. He was just formulating plans to go to San Francisco and become an editor—not a new avocation, for he had for ten years helped Emma Goldman issue a publication known as “Mother Earth”—and to carry out certain radical and novel ideas. Before we sketch the way in which he put those ideas on paper, it may be well to see what experiences he had had to generate ideas, and just what promise his career contained that he would be of guiding benefit to these United States.
Alexander Berkman was a Russian by birth, and was then about 44 years old. When he was a youth of 20 he became involved in the famous Homestead strike in Pennsylvania, and on July 22, 1892, he burst into the office of Henry Frick, a steel manufacturer, in the Carnegie Building in Pittsburg and shot that gentleman in the neck. He then went to the Western Penitentiary and served fourteen years. This qualified him as a rare martyr among anarchists. After he got out of prison he was occasionally arrested in various cities, for wherever he appeared among advocates of violence there was pretty certain to be trouble. The long prison term had given him a chance to develop his mind, and he had written 512 pages on “The Prison Life of an Anarchist,” which the “Mother Earth Publishing Company” brought out, and which sold for $1.15—a very interesting book indeed.
So he went to San Francisco in the fall of 1915. A short time before he left New York his friend Bill Shatoff gave him a farewell dinner. As the evening wore on the diners adjourned to the neighborhood of Second Avenue and Fifth Street for a frolic, and Berkman and Shatoff playfully mauled a policeman, and took his club away, for which both men were arrested. But that did not interfere long with Berkman’s departure for the Coast, and the purpose and fruit of his journey appeared within a short time.
It was called The Blast. According to its own description The Blast was a revolutionary labor weekly, which meant that it preached revolution every so often to those who had a grievance against their employers and to those who had no employers but who had a deep contempt for anything of the sort. Alexander Berkman appeared as editor and publisher, E. B. Morton as associate editor, and M. E. Fitzgerald as manager. It sold for five cents a copy, unless you bought it in bundles, in which case you paid half that price.
In the first issue, dated January 15, 1916, the title of the paper is explained by the editor. “Do you mean to destroy?” he asks. “Do you mean to build? These are the questions we have been asked from many quarters by inquirers sympathetic and otherwise. Our reply is frank and bold: We mean both: to destroy and to build. For socially speaking, Destruction is the beginning of Construction.... The time is NOW. The breath of discontent is heavy upon this wide land. It permeates mill and mine, field and factory. Blind rebellion stalks upon highway and byway. To fire it with the spark of Hope, to kindle it with the light of Vision, and turn pale discontent into conscious social action—that is the crying problem of the hour. It is the great work calling to be done. To work, then, and blasted be every obstacle in the way of the Regeneration!” In a congratulatory telegram in the same issue, Emma wrote to Alexander: “Let The Blast re-echo from coast to coast, inspiring strength and courage into the disinherited, and striking terror into the hearts of the craven enemy, now that one more of our brothers has fallen a victim to the insatiable Moloch. May The Blast tear up the solidified ignorance and cruelty of our social structure. Blast away! To the daring belongs the future.”
A sample of the methods by which The Blast proposed to begin its regeneration of the disinherited is this delicate editorial paragraph:
“Judas Made Respectable.
“Judas Iscariot delivered the Nazarene agitator into the hands of the Roman District Attorney. This base betrayal incensed the people against the mercenary stool-pigeon. Judas had enough decency to go and hang himself.”
A slap evidently at the person whom Emma referred to in her telegram, who had just sold out to Moloch.
It was a cardinal principle of the paper to be scurrilous and direct in its attacks upon the enemies of anarchy. General Harrison Grey Otis, a Los Angeles publisher whose newspaper building was bombed in 1912 after labor trouble, was referred to as “General Hungry Growl Otis,” Colonel Roosevelt as “The Human Blowout.” The leading cartoon of the second issue, drawn—and well drawn—by Robert Minor, showed a huge figure of a laborer bearing on a tray the figure of a tiny though corpulent judge, its mouth open in speech, and its chair guarded by three stolid elephantine policemen. The laborer is bearing the dish to a feast of anarchists, the title of Minor’s contribution is “The Court Orders—.” The court had evidently ordered in the direction of The Blast, and Berkman did not like the order. In the same issue he wrote editorials against conscription in England, against the convention of the American Federation of Labor which had just been held in San Francisco, against its president, Samuel Gompers, and against national preparedness.
I have quoted these extracts not because they are specially interesting or readable, but because they will give one who is not wholly familiar with the practical platform of anarchy a suggestion of anarchy’s tone of voice. It is not friendly, but is on the contrary quite snobbish. Selig Schulberg, in an article on Mexico, gently suggested: “Toilers of America, if the Hearsts, Otises and Rockefellers have property, for which they want protection, in Mexico, let them protect it!” The editor says: “The Fords, the Bryans, the Jane Addams may be sincere. If so they are blind leaders of the blind.” A writer signing himself “L. E. Claypool,” wrote, under the title “Preparedness is Hell,” this tribute to our tortured Ally in Europe: “Most of you gents that yell (i. e., yell, ‘What about Belgium?’) never heard of Belgium till this war broke out. A lot of you probably don’t know that the language of the Belgians is French. Further, you don’t know that Belgium had a treaty with England and France which placed the little nation in the war before the German invasion. You may not know that French and English engineers and military experts had surveyed the land and were preparing to make it a battle ground long before the Germans did so.” That statement was typical German propaganda of a very crude sort, calculated to appeal by its insinuation to the class of readers who affected The Blast. The platform of the paper, in a word, was Against.
Berkman was in a rich field for labor unrest. California is a strong labor state. The whole country, outside as well as inside California, had been excited over the Los Angeles Times bomb affair in 1912, and it revived that excitement when two of the culprits were prosecuted three years later. One finds constant reference to the case in the files of The Blast, and to the strikes at Lawrence, Mass., and Ludlow, Colorado, and Youngstown, Ohio. Anti-capitalistic rough-house in any corner of the continent was good copy for Berkman. If it flagged for a moment he took up the cudgels for his friend Emma, who had just been arrested in New York and sentenced to the workhouse for distributing birth-control literature. Or he dove into international relations, comparing in one instance Villa and President Wilson, with little mercy for the latter. The issue of April Fool’s Day, 1916, carried a leading editorial directed against the Pacific Coast Defense League, just organized to bring the national guard of the Pacific and Mountain states into a condition of higher efficiency and to start a program of “healthy physical and military training” in the public schools. This editorial was signed by Tom Mooney, who soon appeared in the columns of the paper in another capacity.
The publication did not go unheeded by the Post Office department. On May 1 Berkman burst out with an article headed, “To Hell With The Government,” in which he used language that would make any ordinary head of hair curl up. He was angry because the Government had issued an order holding up all succeeding issues of the paper. In an editorial he said he welcomed the uprising in Ireland—the Easter Day affair in Dublin which cost several Sinn Feiners their lives. Other anarchistic publications in the country were meeting the same fate. The Alarm, in Chicago, Revolt of New York, Regeneracion, a Mexican revolutionary sheet issued in Los Angeles, and Voluntad, a Spanish paper in New York, were closed up. But Berkman went on publishing, and howling about the constitutional freedom of the press. Back in New York other friends of his had been making more trouble: Mrs. Max Eastman and Bolton Hall were arrested for circulating birth-control pamphlets, and Bouck White was jailed for distributing an effigy of the American flag bearing a dollar-mark. Berkman took up their cases and howled. He sent appeals for help in his fight against the Post Office department, and raised a little money. One of his liberal contributors was a writer named John Reed, who sent him five dollars from New York. Then a strike broke out, fostered by the I. W. W., on the iron ranges in Northern Minnesota, and William M. Haywood wrote Berkman an appeal for help which the latter published in The Blast with a eulogy. He found no dearth of subjects to fill his pages, and then suddenly came an interruption.
San Francisco turned out in a great preparedness parade on July 22. Someone threw a bomb into the ranks of the marchers. Nine people were killed. The next issue of The Blast said substantially: “Well, they might have expected it,” and said actually: “To try to connect the Anarchists, the I. W. W., the Labor elements or the participants in the peace meeting with the bomb tragedy is stupid. The act was obviously the work of an individual who evidently sought to express his opposition to Preparedness for Slaughter by using the ammunition of Preparedness. Terrible as it is, it is merely a foretaste in miniature of what the people may expect multiplied a million times, from the Preparedness insanity.” When two men, Nolan and Tom Mooney, were arrested and charged with the crime, The Blast rushed to their defense. When Warren Billings and Israel Weinberg were added to the list of accused, The Blast ran sketches of the defendants by Minor, the staff artist. The case was of consuming interest to the anarchist group, and they rubbed their hands, in The Blast office, over their good luck that it had happened right in their own little circle. The Blast ceased firing random shots and focussed on the bomb case in salvos, followed the course of the trials, drew a parallel between the condition of the San Francisco suspects and that of Fielden, Neebe and Schwab, three of the anarchists who were implicated in the Haymarket bomb outrage in Chicago in 1886 and pardoned.
The business of being an anarchist became surrounded with more and more difficulty as the year drew toward a close. Caplan, the fourth Los Angeles bomb suspect to be tried, was convicted and sentenced to ten years; a group of laborers who had engaged in violence in strikes against the United States Steel Corporation were under sentence in a Pittsburg prison; Carlo Tresca (whom we recall as a speaker at the Brescia Circle in 1915), and ten others were in jail in Duluth charged with murder in the I. W. W. strike on the Mesaba Iron range; the Magon brothers, two Mexican revolutionary anarchists, were in prison, and the days of The Blast were numbered. Berkman came back to New York in the fall. While he was absent, The Blast sputtered once more in its issue of January, 1917, with a venomous cartoon by Minor, and went out, for want of funds.
Berkman found Emma Goldman well and prosperous. She had visited him in March in San Francisco, and again in June and July had delivered two series of birth-control lectures there. After her first visit, The Blast had blossomed out with a book advertisement, which included the list of volumes sold by the Mother Earth Publishing Company in New York. There were the usual texts on anarchy, revolution, and syndicalism, and it is interesting to note among the books sent to Berkman for review the following titles: “A Few Facts About British Rule In India. Published by the Hindustani Gadar, San Francisco,” “India’s ‘Loyalty’ to England. Published by The Indian Nationalist Party,” and “The Methods of the Indian Police in the Twentieth Century. Published by the Hindustan Gadar.” Har Dayal had been the editor of Ghadr until 1914; apparently his acquaintanceship with Berkman was being kept fresh by his successors at the nest of Hindu intrigue in Berkeley.
But when Berkman got back to New York he found that birth-control was no longer the thing. A new development had taken place, half-way around the earth, and it looked promising for the anarchistic interests. So we must leave the two for a moment.
On January 9, 1917, the Russian premier resigned. A fortnight later the newspapers announced that the Germans had recaptured considerable important ground on the Riga front. On February 3, the United States severed diplomatic relations with Germany, gave Bernstorff his papers, and sent him home two weeks later. On March 11 a revolutionary demonstration broke out in Petrograd, and the next day the Czar of All the Russias abdicated his throne. A new cabinet was formed, its foreign minister told the Allies that Russia would continue to fight, and the United States recognized the new régime. The news was hailed with a good deal of fraternal spirit in America, and with special cordiality in New York, where there were great numbers of Russians who had left Europe to escape the persecution of the old régime.
Many of the New York Russians knew what was going to happen in Petrograd. The Bomb Squad made friends with an anarchist as early as February 1, 1917. On that day at a spot not far from where Shatoff and Berkman had attacked the policeman a year before, a certain Mr. Plotkin met a Mr. Bogdanovitch. Plotkin urged Bogdanovitch to call a special conference of all the revolutionary organizations in the city to protest against militarism. “No,” said the conservative Bogdanovitch. “Our group will either have to pass a resolution as a single unit, or else go over to Group 2 and see what they are doing about this news that we are going to have war. Don’t be too ready to jump to conclusions.” So the two went to call on Group 2, which was in session—some 50 Russians and Russian Jews, who spent the evening harmlessly reading the war prospects from American newspapers. No resolution was passed.
The next night, however, there was a lecture at Beethoven Hall, at 210 East 5th Street. The speaker was introduced as “Mr. Bornstein,” who had just returned from Russia. “Mr. Bornstein” was Leon Trotzky.
Trotzky, using the Russian language, told of the plans that were being developed for revolution. “You anarchists here,” he said, “don’t want any militarism or any government which is of no help to the working class, and is always ready to fire on the workman. It’s time you did away with such a government once and forever!” After his speech, the chairman, Comrade G. Chudnofsky, rose and addressed the crowd of 300 in the hall, to this effect:
“Comrades, some of you can’t read English. You don’t know what is going on until you see it in the Russian papers. Only to-day I noticed that the Police Commissioner is going to call out all the reserves he can get to handle the situation, since Germany notified America what she would do. The capitalistic government is afraid of us! They are afraid of the working class. Remember that, for in case of war, we can protest against militarism and start our own war. Here is a resolution which I propose to prevent any of our loyal number joining the army. I will read it.” And he read it.
The next day Bill Shatoff was scheduled to speak at a meeting at Number 9 Second Avenue, but he was suddenly called to Boston, and a substitute took the platform. He was howled down because he made a speech which reflected loyalty to the United States. The audience consisted of 75 Russians, of whom some 30 were anarchists known to the Bomb Squad. The United States severed diplomatic relations with Germany that night.
On February 4 the representatives of several of the Russian anarchist groups were to meet at 534 East 5th Street and pass the resolution against militarism, but they could not agree upon it, and the session ended by postponing the matter. Most of the delegates present adjourned to 64 East 7th Street (almost within earshot of the Washington Arch), to hear Chudnofsky rave against enlistment, the police, the government and the war.
Those little meetings were typical of the eruptions which occurred throughout the poorer districts of the great city during the remainder of the month of February. Such propagandists as Chudnofsky and Trotzky, uttering their exhortations to a multiplication of such groups as gathered in the Fifth Street house, spread among the gossipy East Siders and into the remotest slums the news that great things were about to happen in Russia, and rumor and expectancy set the stage for the arrival of the news of the revolution on March 12. The leaders then began to mobilize their forces and act quickly. Under Shatoff, Schnabel and Rodes the revolutionary fire was passed along from one to another. The story was that Russia was free, reclaimed from Czardom and all that it had meant of oppression.
The lid was off, and it was a case of first come, first served. The Provisional Government was no better than any other, these men said. “Russia shall be ours.” “How?” asked the eager disciples. “By helping yourselves,” answered Shatoff and Schnabel and Rodes. “That’s all very well,” said the proletariat, “but we haven’t the price.” “Oh, in that case, come to the farewell meeting on March 26 for Leon Trotzky, at Harlem River Casino, and all will be made clear to you.”
Some 800 people were at Trotzky’s farewell party, which was held under the auspices of the German Socialist Federation. Alexander Berkman and Emma Goldman were among those present. A blond Russian made a speech in which he said: “Comrades, some of us are going back to Russia to push the revolution as we think it ought to be pushed, and those who remain here must get ready to do their share of the work as it ought to be done.” Trotzky then rose and speaking first in German, then in Russian, repeated the advice the previous speaker had given, and added: “You who stay here must work hand in hand with the revolution in Russia, for only in that way can you accomplish revolution in the United States.” He was cheered to the echo.
(There are still those who wonder why we have not recognized the Bolsheviki.)
The pier of the Norwegian-American line the next morning was a strange sight. Trotzky, with his wife, Chudnofsky, Plotkin, and a group of fifty more Russians, including such names as Muhin, Rapaport, Dnieprofsky, Yaroshefsky and Rashkofsky, sailed for Norway. An undersized, wild-eyed, fanatic little plucked-bantam of a Russian expatriate literally set out from Hoboken to upset the Provisional Government of Russia, prevent the formation of a republic, stop the war with Germany and prevent interference from other governments—that was his open boast. And, if such a mission can be crowned with success, he succeeded.
The leaders of the groups left behind began that very afternoon to examine recruits for the return to Russia. They met at 534 East 5th Street and elected a committee of five to serve as examining board for applicants for the $20 to $50 free passage money extended by the Provisional Government to help Russians who had fled the persecutions of the old days to repatriate themselves. It is unnecessary to state that the Provisional Government hardly knew how thoroughly these homing pigeons were going to re-establish themselves. All those who passed muster were put down for a sailing date.
The Norwegian ship bearing Trotzky and his party put into Halifax and the British detained the entire passenger list. On April 15 a mass meeting of anarchists, socialists, and Industrial Workers of the World was held at Manhattan Lyceum to make a formal protest to the British government against their detention. Kerensky asked for their release, and they were allowed to go on. By this time a second consignment had left, but by a different route. On April 3 George Brewer, H. Gurin, Mr. and Mrs. David Rohlis, one Kotz, one Schmidt, one Nemiroff and 27 others left the Pennsylvania Station for Chicago, Vancouver, Japan and Siberia. On April 23 Comrades Bogdanovitch, Bendetsky, Albert Greenfield, John (or Ivan) Stepanoff, Michael Smirnoff, Henry Shklar and 89 more left on the Erie Railroad for Seattle, Japan and Siberia. On the 12th day of May, “Dynamite Louise” Berg, sister of the anarchist who was killed July 4, 1914, by the accidental explosion of a bomb, boarded the steamship United States of the Scandinavian-American Line in Hoboken for Christiania and Russia. On that ship sailed nearly a hundred others of the anarchist and revolutionary element. Ninety more, including Sokoloff, a prominent I. W. W., left for San Francisco and Japan two days later. On May 26 Mrs. Bill Shatoff, with Alexander Broide, J. Wishniefsky, and 18 more members of the Coöperative Anarchist Organization sailed from Hoboken on the Oskar II. Two days passed and Meyer Bell, an anarchist who had seen the inside of many an American jail for revolutionary agitation, and Mrs. Meyer Bell, with 110 others took their departure for San Francisco and the Orient. The last consignment but one, a group of 90 more potential Bolsheviki, followed them on June 24.
Shatoff and Wolin waited until their flock had been herded out of the country, and then vanished themselves. No one knew their route, but they were heard from in Seattle. Altogether some 600 anarchists made the pilgrimage. Some never reached Russia. Others who did get back found that conditions offered slim picking, and the Chinese and Manchurian ports are sprinkled with them to-day—men without a country, who cannot live in Russia, and who may not return to the United States.
Those who did get through to the capital of Russia straightway joined the organization. Trotzky had found Lenine there with plans already well advanced. The Provisional Government superficially was adequate to handle the situation, and during June it gave some slight promise of being able to prosecute its share of the war, but a breach was coming. A Council of Workmen and Soldiers had sprung up to oppose the Duma and the government when the Duma voted for an immediate offensive in Galicia, the Council voted for a separate peace. Kerensky swung himself back into balance for a month, and led a military offensive. It turned into a retreat, the retreat into a rout. Korniloff took command of the army on August 2, and the following day the military governor of Petrograd was assassinated. The deposed Czar was taken to Siberia. On September 2 Kerensky tried the expedient of arrest against his rising enemies in Moscow. On September 16 he proclaimed a new republic, but political structures could not keep out the terrifying German military advance that already was threatening Petrograd nor the German propaganda which was already there. Mid-October saw the government in flight to Moscow. On the 21st of October Leon Trotzky, at the head of the Bolsheviki in the Council, declared his party for an immediate democratic peace, and left the hall at their head, cheering. Municipal elections on November 1 rejected the Bolsheviki, but they would not be rejected, and on November 7 the Maximalists deposed Kerensky and took possession of the Government. Lenine became premier, Trotzky minister of foreign affairs.
The New York delegation won influential positions under the new régime. A United States senator has described the current Russian government as nothing but “Lenine and a gang of anarchists from New York, Philadelphia and Chicago.” Wolin took charge of a branch of the press—a sort of commissioner of public misinformation. Shatoff, in America a humble syndicalist and I. W. W., rose to the eminence of chairman of the “Extraordinary Commission for the Struggle Against Speculators and the Counter Revolution” in Petrograd, a commission whose activities are perhaps better described by its common title in the capital. It is called the “Blood and Murder” or the “To the Wall” committee. He has filled in his spare time as Commissioner of Railroads, and has been commonly credited in Petrograd with the murder of the Czar and his family. Ouritzky, Shatoff’s predecessor at the head of the Committee, had amassed a fortune of some four million roubles during his tenure of office. He died a violent death. Shatoff, in October of 1918, had not followed suit. The same John Reed who contributed to the support of the Blast appeared in Petrograd as a sympathetic correspondent, and was made consul to New York—a portfolio which he was unable to use when he returned to New York because of his indictment, along with Max Eastman and several other editors of a paper known as The Masses, for attempting to obstruct the draft. The balance of the New York anarchists who made up the expeditionary force of 1917 found their way, such of them as escaped the rigors of Petrograd life, into positions of influence in the government of one hundred or more millions of Russian people. To be sure, their hold is not too secure, but they are enjoying for the moment a sense of power which is intoxicating. Nothing seems to please a Bolshevik of the New York City group more than power—the same thing he tried to overthrow. I suppose it makes a difference whose power it happens to be.
Neither Goldman nor Berkman returned to Russia. Their publishing and bookselling business kept them here, and both were always in demand as lecturers. Both had pictured themselves for many years as the champions of anarchy in the United States, and it is conceivable that they did not wish to pass over their sceptres to any less well qualified successors. Unlike the ringleaders of the I. W. W., these anarchists did not dodge real work. Both had active minds, and were happiest when they were busy. Berkman’s writing at times shows a certain cheerful tenderness underneath its bombast, and Emma Goldman had a rather good-natured sarcasm at times as a speaker.
The two cast their lot in with the pacifists, the anti-conscriptionists, and the factions whose chief aim was to interfere with America’s going to war. Emma began to lecture on the subject. On the night of May 18 she spoke to a meeting in the Harlem River Casino. After a preamble advising the audience that government agents were present and that violence would be out of order, she drew what she probably considered a logical conclusion from this advice and shouted:
“And so, friends, we don’t care what people will say about us. We only care for one thing, and that is to demonstrate to-night, and to demonstrate as long as we can be able to speak, that when America went to war ostensibly to fight for democracy, it was a dastardly lie. It never went to war for democracy!... It is not a war of economic independence, it is a war for conquest. It is a war for military power. It is a war for money. It is a war for the purpose of trampling underfoot every vestige of liberty that you people have worked for, for the last forty or thirty or twenty-five years, and therefore we refuse to support such a war....
“We believe in violence and we will use violence.... How many people are going to refuse to conscript? I say there are enough. I could count fifty thousand, and there will be more.... They will not register! What are you going to do if there are 500,000? It will not be such an easy job, and it will compel the government to sit up and take notice, and therefore we are going to support, with all the money and publicity at our hands, all the men who will refuse to register and who will refuse to fight.
“I hope this meeting is not going to be the last. As a matter of fact we are planning something else.... We will have a demonstration of all the people who will not be conscripted, and who will not register. We are going to have the largest demonstration this city has ever seen, and no power on earth will stop us.... If there is any man in this hall that despairs, let him look across at Russia ... and see the wonderful thing that revolution has done....
“What is your answer? Your answer to war must be a general strike, and then the governing class will have something on its hands....”
She wound up her speech with an appeal for funds, and said that her paper, Mother Earth, was going to support the rebellion against the draft law which had been signed by the president that very day. Mother Earth spoke, in her next issue, which appeared shortly before registration day, June 5, and spoke in fairly disapproving terms toward conscription. But the sun went down into New Jersey on registration day without having witnessed the greatest demonstration New York City ever saw, or any demonstration whatever save the quiet, cheerful enrollment of what later became a heroic national army.
On June 15 Emma Goldman and Alexander Berkman were arrested in the office of Mother Earth at 20 East 125th Street. On June 27 they were arraigned for trial. On July 9 the jury pronounced them guilty of having attempted to obstruct the draft. Judge Mayer thereupon sentenced Berkman to two years in the Federal penitentiary at Atlanta, Goldman to the state penitentiary at Jefferson City, Missouri for two years, and fined each of them $10,000. It was a stiff blow to organized anarchy—the maximum sentence possible, and the judge followed it by directing the District Attorney, Harold A. Content, to notify the Commissioner of Labor of the conviction, in order that when the two emerged from prison, they might be deported as aliens convicted of two or more crimes to the country from which they came, bringing uplift to down-trodden America.
Their work has since been carried on in a more or less desultory way. They, too, have become official martyrs to the cause, whose names will be inscribed along with those of Brescia, the Haymarket murderers, and a score of others, on the anarchist service flag. The undercurrent of opposition appeared spasmodically during the war and it became necessary for an Alabama Judge, sitting in the District Court of New York, on October 25, 1918, to impose maximum sentences under the espionage act upon three more advocates of unrest, Jacob Abrams, Samuel Lipman and Hyman Lachnowsky, the ringleaders of a group who circulated leaflets denouncing armed intervention in Russia and advocating a general strike. They were sentenced to twenty years apiece; a fourth member got three years and a $1,000 fine. A woman in the group, Mollie Steiner, was sentenced to fifteen years.
The efforts at “demonstration” which the imported anarchists in America have employed are neither as picturesque nor as popularly received as those of their comrades in the old world. Anarchy is out of tune in America. Prussianism has already had its answer from the United States. Bolshevism is not for a well-educated, deep-breathing nation like ours. And anarchy, the poorest wretch of the three, must make terrifying faces through some other window than that of a country full of people who are going to continue to make this democracy safe for itself.
THE END