January 16, 2021
From PM Press
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By Pauline Bryan
Tribune Magazine (UK)
January 2021

Ben Fletcher is not a household name today, but in the early 20th century he helped to break down racial barriers in America’s labour movement – and build an IWW that threatened to overthrow the ruling class.

Peter Cole’s book, Ben Fletcher: The Life and Times of a Black Wobbly,
uncovers what there is to find out about an important trade union
leader in the US from the early part of the twentieth century. The sad
thing is how little is known: Ben Fletcher’s life was extraordinary by
any measure, but there’s hardly any record of his personal life or his
motivations in engaging with trade unionism and radical politics.

Fletcher was born in Philadelphia in 1890, after his parents escaped
the resurgence of white supremacy in Virginia. At just 20 he had already
become active in a trade union, and was an accomplished street speaker.

The impact of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW)—known as the
Wobblies—on the docks of Philadelphia was unprecedented. Ben Fletcher
joined Local 8, a branch which achieved some of the most significant
involvement of black Americans in trade union activity of any eta. The
IWW he became part of was unlike other trade unions of its time, both in
terms of being avowedly revolutionary and its determination to organise
all workers regardless of race, nationality, or sex.

Despite the difficulty of travel between the US and
Europe, there was a cross-fertilisation of ideas and activists, and
although unlike any British trade union, the IWW had resonance.

The author of this book, Peter Cole, wrote a chapter in Keir Hardie and the 21st Century Socialist Revival
covering Hardie’s contact with Eugene Debs, one of the founders of the
IWW. Hardie was shocked at the level of violence used against trade
unionists in the US, and the role of judges in carrying out employers’
dirty work.

Keir Hardie had, of course, fought hard for the trade unions to
establish the Labour Party, and however frustrating and slow that route
was, he stuck to it – but he never confined his activities to
Parliament. ‘If democracy has any meaning,’ he said, ‘it must mean that
the mass of the people in their own strength evolve solutions to their
own problems.’

James Connolly and James Larkin
of the Irish Transport and General Workers’ Union both spent time in
the US working with the IWW too. Connolly was working in the Singer
factory in Newark in 1906 and joined the IWW and Socialist Party of
America; in 1914, after the Dublin Lockout, Larkin also travelled to the
US and also became a member of the Socialist Party.

Claude McKay, a Jamaican-born communist writer, refers to Fletcher’s Local 8 in his novel Home to Harlem.
Rachel Holmes, in her recent book on Sylvia Pankhurst, documents how,
years earlier, McKay had been in London, and was recruited by Pankhurst
to work for the newspaper Dreadnaught.

These political links across the Atlantic were transmitted through
the migration of workers, the ship crews that docked in Philadelphia,
the experiences during the First World War, and the birth of the
Communist International.

While Philadelphia was a refuge for Southern black people
in the post-civil war period, there had been vicious attacks on black
Americans there, including by Irish immigrants over jobs in the docks in
1842. The IWW was able to avoid the employers’ divide-and-rule
strategies by recruiting members who had previously been used to
undercut the wages of others.

Fletcher was involved in both the Socialist Party of America and the
IWW, but a rift occurred over tactics, including the IWW’s support for
the use of sabotage. The differences were, however, largely theoretical –
once Local 8 was established as a major force on the docks, it didn’t
need disruption. Fletcher wrote to a friend in 1920: ‘While I do not
countenance against the working class striking at the ballot box, I am
firmly convinced that the foremost and historical mission of Labor is to
organise as a class, industrially.’

Local 8 issued monthly buttons to its paid-up members, which enabled
them to know if their fellow workers were in the union. Through this
mechanism they were able to force employers to stop using the ‘shape up’
system for hiring, in which workers were hired at the dockyard gate and
could be fired after a few hours’ work.

This system was also in place in Britain, where proper employment had
been a demand since 1889, but it took until 1947 to establish the Dock
Labour Board. In 1913, Local 8 succeeded in replacing ‘shape up’ with a
process in which the employer called the union hall to request the
workers they needed for a shift.

The IWW also achieved a remarkable level of racial equality and
integration. Before Local 8, groups of workers were racially segregated
into all-Irish, all-Italian or all-black, and could be pitted against
each other. Local 8 integrated these communities, and the position of
chair alternated between black and white members.

Local 8 agreed not to strike during the First World War – a decision
that was criticised by other leftists. Its single strike action occurred
on the anniversary of their first big, successful strike, which they
celebrated with an annual picnic. The members marched from their union
hall led by three bands. Spectators describing it at the time said: ‘You
could see in the lines of men walking five abreast, American, Polish,
Lithuanian, Belgian and coloured in the same line,’ chanting ‘no creed,
no colour can bar you from membership’.

But Fletcher didn’t spend all his time in the relative safety of the
integrated workforce of Philadelphia. The IWW needed him elsewhere, even
though, as Robin D. G. Kelly describes in the foreword, ‘he was
especially susceptible to lethal violence’. In 1917, Fletcher was
despatched to Norfolk, Virginia, the heart of the old Confederacy. It
was not long before he was under threat of lynching, and was smuggled
out on a ship to Boston.

Despite Local 8’s decision not to impede the war effort,
the government were determined to attack the IWW. A federal grand jury
in Chicago indicted a large number of IWW members on multiple counts for
conspiring to hinder various acts of Congress and presidential decrees:
Fletcher was one of 165 Wobblies charged with violating the Espionage
Act of 1917, conspiring to strike, violating the constitutional right of
employers, and using the mail to conspire to defraud employers.

Along with other IWW leaders, Fletcher was found guilty by a jury
after 45 minutes’ consideration. He and the others were transported to
Leavenworth, Kansas on a dedicated train. Putting so many union
organisers together in one prison meant they could support each other,
and they even published a paper called News and Views from the Labor World.
Their communication outside of the prison was limited and censored by
no less than J. Edgar Hoover, who wanted Fletcher’s mail monitored for
‘Negro agitation’.

Fletcher was the only black American among the 165 jailed. When he
was released on bail in 1920, he helped raise money for those still
detained. Some funds came from British sailors who supported the Shop
Stewards Movement.

Local 8 also came into conflict with the wider movement
in what was known as the ‘Philadelphia Controversy’. It was suspended in
1920, for allegedly loading ammunition for anti-Soviet forces in the
Russian civil war.

The accusations over failing to boycott supplies for the White
Russians were linked to the worldwide differences between communists,
anarchists, and syndicalists, which were to bedevil the movement for
decades. The Wobblies considered themselves to be Marxist and believed
in the class struggle – but were concerned that the Communist Party was
anti-democratic and authoritarian.

Fletcher, particularly, feared that the Communist Party wanted to
turn the IWW into the Bolshevik vanguard in the US. He blamed them for
the Philadelphia Controversy, and for fabricating the story about
loading ammunition. Peter Cole states that ‘Historians do not have
sufficient documentation […] to ascertain what precisely happened.’

In 1922, Local 8 revived its long struggle to achieve an eight-hour
day. They decided simply to declare that their members would only work
eight hours, and reported for work an hour later than usual. The
employers’ response was a lockout, for which the International
Longshoreman’s Union (ILA) had workers ready to take over.

In the process of the lockout, the Local 8’s celebrated interracial
solidarity broke apart. This was at a time of increased racist terrorism
and the resurgence of the Ku Klux Klan, and relations off the job
between black and white workers and their families were poor: ‘no more
interracial picnics as during the Wobbly era,’ Cole writes. The IWW lost
many of its black members, but Fletcher stayed. During the lockout, he
received some good news: a pardon for his wartime conviction.

Of Ben Fletcher’s private life, we know little.
Documentation shows that he was married twice, the first time while in
Boston after escaping from Virginia. His wife, Carrie Danno Bartlett,
was a white woman of which nothing else is known. Soon after his
imprisonment, there was a divorce. His second wife was a black American
named Clara.

Much of what we do know of Fletcher comes from his writing
in newspapers and reports of his speeches; the rest comes from the
government’s spying. Cole appends a great array of documents including
agent’s reports – some of them farcical, but illustrative of the level
of surveillance he was under. Agents were turning up at his door, one
identifying himself as health inspector and then demanding to see the
contents of Fletcher’s suitcase.

Fletcher had a stroke at the young age of 42. The manual work he had
performed throughout his short life took its toll, and he died in 1949.

To Cole, his legacy is the history of Local 8. ‘An avowedly
revolutionary union led by a black man forced corporations in America’s
third biggest city and fifth largest port to deal with a union in which
the great majority of members were African Americans and European
immigrants. And they did it without ever signing a contract, instead
enforcing their demands based on the ever present threat of a strike.’

The final article in the appendices was written in 1921 by Robert
Hardoen, a young black IWW member who was also active in Chicago’s Dill
Pickle Club. It leaves the reader keen to learn more about the Club,
which was founded by anarchists, Wobblies, and cultural radicals, and
welcomed everyone regardless of ethnicity, race, sexual preference, or
politics.

Hardoen writes: ‘The great danger attendant upon all the movements
for group emancipation is that they may become purely nationalistic or
racial in their aspects, rather than built along lines that take into
consideration the economic foundations of society.’ He concludes: ‘The
writer who is one of them [a black worker] wishes to say to our white
fellow workers ‘Move over, fellow workers, move over. We’re coming in.
We’ve heard that the water’s fine.”

Peter Cole offers the reader as much as he can about the
extraordinary man Ben Fletcher. The book, along with its appendices, is a
fascinating study of an individual as a central character in the US
trade union movement, at a seminal time in its history.

Pauline Bryan is a Labour member of the
House of Lords. She is a supporter of Campaign for Socialism in Scotland
and a founding member of the Keir Hardie Society.


Ben Fletcher: The Life and Times of a Black Wobbly

Peter Cole is a professor of history at Western Illinois University in Macomb and a research associate in the Society, Work and Development Institute at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Cole is the author of the award-winning Dockworker Power: Race and Activism in Durban and the San Francisco Bay Area and Wobblies on the Waterfront: Interracial Unionism in Progressive-Era Philadelphia. He coedited Wobblies of the World: A Global History of the IWW. He is the founder and codirector of the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 Commemoration Project.

Back to Peter Cole’s Author Page




Source: Pmpress.org