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Newspaper Page Text
SATURDAY, OCT. 16th, 1020.
of the workers are being met by counter moves
on the part of the masters. There is a drawing
together of both classes, a spirit of solidarity
is showing itself amongst the workers which
heretofore has not had expression.
The hand-writing has appeared on the wall,
and the masters class, unliike the Eastern king
of old, have read it, and are prepared to fight
to a finish.
Mr. Keynes sees only the death-threes. He
either couldl not or did not see the birth pangs.
He sees the utter brea:k-down of an economic
system. He forsees a struggle of an intellectual
ly bankrupt class to retain its supremacy, in
defiance of these very principles of efficiency;
which the modern "business" governments are
supposed to be based upon.
The Parting Of The Ways.
Fellow-Workers, we aTe at the parting of the
ways. There is a dangerous piece of ground
ahead of us. Are we prepared to do our part in
the re-organization of society? The Russian
workers took the bull by the horns and have
shown its a magnificent example.
The imperative need today is for UNITY OF
ACTION. MASS ACTION. ECONOMIC AC
TION. And the formation which appeals most
to the mind of the writer of this article is THE
ONE BIG UNION. In such a formation and in
the shop stewards movement are to be found
the machinery upon which the new order of so
ciety is to be based. Let the. ruling class weep
over the death of their civilization. It is our
task to assist at the birth of the NEW ORDER.
AND OUR ASSISTANCE MUST RE M'RTH
ODICALLY ORGANIZED, OR IT WILL BE
. They Wait....
By Michel Martv, in "La Vie Ouvriere."
(Translated For The Toiler)
Seamen inured to the hard of the open, of
machinery, of the dangerous ocean once they
were men. . . Sailors of the Black Sea, convict
ed for haying refused to be lawless and con
scienceless mercenaries, they are in prison.
I saw tbem gaunt, with drawn features,
they were calmly waiting. I asked them about
the details of their misery; the five francs per
month which their families are allowed to send
them, theiir wretched life which slowly passes
by with a glass of blackish water, called coffee,
bought each morning, to cheat starvation...
the wooden planlks which serve them as a bed
. . . But they cut my pitying questions short :
"Don't waste time!'' they said. "Have they
understood our action? Are fhey going to help
I explained. They answered:
"Words, always words; they don't know how
to organise as we did, in spite of our officers,
of cold and the hardship of being so far..."
I kept quiet. They continued:
"They don't work together. Disagreement.
Quarrels in the shops. Apathy. Weakness at
the bottom! At the top, force and ferocity.
Have we then sacrificed ourselves in vain?"
I searched for words to console them and to
make them understand the weakness of men
tossed about by the force of circumstance. They
said to me:
"Here hunger, cold, silence, pallets of
straw, guns... we were already acquainted
with that on the coasts of Russia. We can en
dure all. . . but at least they should understand
... they should unite... they should help
us . . . ' ' j :
The guard grew impatien'fc. Moving toward
the door; with tears in my eyes, I left them,
while they cried after me, they who remained
"Toll the people of France that wo wish they
should feel the iron hand of a tyrant, since thev
do not know how to be free."
And I went away, crying.