You workingmen are told it is your duty to die for your country.
When did the working class ever have a country?
The capitalistic classes own the country. Are they prepared to die for it?
Oh, no, that's what you are for.
-Eugene V. Debs
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Friday January 15, 1915
From The Washington Socialist: Eugene Debs Will Speak at Everett Theater
Everett Theater
In announcing that Eugene Debs, "America's Greatest Orator," will speak at the Everett Theater on January 24th,
The Washington Socialist devoted most of its front page to that great and beloved orator of socialism. We are happy to present three articles and a poem from yesterday's edition of Everett's socialist newspaper. Two of the articles are written by Debs himself. The second is a heartfelt tribute to Debs from Robert Hunter. And we end with a poem penned in praise of Debs by Henry Frank.
Hunter describes the outpouring of love for Eugene Debs in Terre Haute:
They say that a prophet is without honor in his own country, but in Terre Haute you will find that however much they misunderstand the work that 'Gene is doing there is not one who does not honor and love him.
Ask anyone. Go to the poor the vagrant, the hobo. Go to the churches, to the rich, to the banker, to the traction magnate. You will find that every single one will say that 'Gene has something which other men do not possess. Some will say he is rash, unwise, and too radical. Others will say that he is too good for this world, and that his visions and dreams are the fanciful outpourings of a generous but impractical soul. But ask them about his character, his honesty, his sincerity, and unconsciously many of them will remove their hats.
From the Washington Socialist of January 14, 1915:
`
DEBS WRITES TO A PRISONER
DEBS TO "HIS BROTHER"
No one can say or do a thing of this kind like Debs. "Inmate 9756" of the Michigan penitentiary, after sending presents to his friends at home, sent $2 to the "Good Fellow" editor of Detroit newspaper for use in making happy the children of the poor. His letter was a marvel of simple pathos, particularly where he said: "The money I send was honestly earned at the rate of 15 cents a day."
Debs saw the letter and immediately sent a reply to the lone "Inmate 9756," no doubt most prized present he ever received. In part the letter read:
My Dear Brother-I send you my greeting with my heart in it. You may be a convict, but you are my brother, and when your message came to me I was touched to tears. There is more of real religion of Jesus Christ in the spirit you breathe out to the world from behind prison bars than in all the orthodox sermons ever preached. You love the little children, even as he did, and you are in prison, while he was crucified. You had the misfortune to be born into a society not yet civilized. The society that sent you to prison devours its own offspring. It is this Christian society's homeless, neglected babes to whom you, one of its convicts, feel moved to send the pennies coined from your blood and agony. What a sermon and what a rebuke! If you ought to be in the penitentiary, I know of not one who is fit to be out.
That is all. It is complete within itself. It is Debs, not words, but a living message.
DEBS SPEAKS TO WORKERS ABOUT WAR
KILL 1, IT IS MURDER;
KILL 10,000 IT IS PATRIOTISM
----------
By EUGENE V. DEBS
If you, for a private grudge, kill a man, it is murder. If 10,000 of you, at the command of your masters, go out to slay 10,000 other men of another nation, they call it patriotism. An easy way to end war is this: Let the capitalists do the fighting. If you do, there will never be another war. You workingmen are told it is your duty to die for your country. When did the working class ever have a country?
The capitalistic classes own the country. Are they prepared to die for it? Oh, no, that's what you are for. In peace you produce wealth for them; in war you fight for their profit and glory. You do not fight upon your own account. Why fight on theirs? They do not even thank you for it; why, they won't associate with you, and by the way, what has become of The Hague peace tribunal?
The war in Europe was declared by the ruling classes. Never in the history of mankind has war been declared by the working classes.
With the end of industrial competition will come the end of war.
A TRIBUTE TO DEBS FROM ROBERT HUNTER
A COMPANION TO TRUTH
----------
A BOYS' ESTIMATE OF EUGENE V. DEBS
----------
By ROBERT HUNTER
Robert Hunter
I remember as a little lad of eight or nine years, walking with my father in one of the streets of Terre Haute. A tall, slender, handsome young man stopped to talk with my father. At first I was fascinated by the way they grasped hands and looked into each other's eyes. I was then impressed by their animated conversation. But they talked on and on until it seemed to me hours in length; and finally I began to tug at my father's coat-tails, urging him to come on. After a while they parted, and my father said to me very seriously, "You should not interrupt me, Robert, when I am talking. That young man is one of the greatest souls on this earth, and you should have listened to what he said."
From time to time afterward I heard of 'Gene, and many were the stories told of him. Everyone spoke of his friendship for the poor. He could not keep money in his pocket. His wife says he always gives away his clothes to those who come to his door; and he gives his best suits, never his old ones.
Once I was told he had a gold watch of considerable value which had been given to him, and a fireman who had been out of work for some time stopped to say that he had a job offered him on the railroad, but he would have to have a watch before he could go to work. Immediately 'Gene took out his gold watch and gave it to the man, telling him to return it when he was able to buy one for himself.
These and countless other stories are told by his fellow citizens. Many of them do not understand 'Gene. His views and his work they cannot comprehend, but every man, woman and child in that town loves him with a devotion quite extraordinary.
Honored Even in His Own Country
They say that a prophet is without honor in his own country, but in Terre Haute you will find that however much they misunderstand the work that 'Gene is doing there is not one who does not honor and love him.
Ask anyone. Go to the poor the vagrant, the hobo. Go to the churches, to the rich, to the banker, to the traction magnate. You will find that every single one will say that 'Gene has something which other men do not possess. Some will say he is rash, unwise, and too radical. Others will say that he is too good for this world, and that his visions and dreams are the fanciful outpourings of a generous but impractical soul. But ask them about his character, his honesty, his sincerity, and unconsciously many of them will remove their hats.
Some of these statements will seem an exaggeration. But one cannot avoid that in speaking of 'Gene. When one who knows him makes any statement, no matter how moderate, it will seem to others who do not know him an exaggeration.
'Gene has followed Truth wherever she has led. He does not ask what is politic, what is wise, what is expedient; he only asks what is truth. He loves Truth beyound all things. She is his absolute mistress, and he has gone with her from riches to poverty, from popularity to unpopularity. He has stood up for her against all men. For her he has seemed at times to sacrifice all earthly gain and to accept without one pang of regret misunderstanding, misrepresentation, and almost universal condemnation. For her he has been momentarily one of the most popular men in the country, and for her he has been momentarily one of the most unpopular men in the country. He has been her companion when everyone believed in her, and he has been her companion when to believe in her meant to go into prison stripes, behind iron bars.
HIS MAGNETIC PERSONALITY
Sometimes I have differed with 'Gene. I have said to him that what he was doing was unwise, impolitic, dangerous. At such times, under such criticism, he is always kind but undeterred; and it is his conscience that answers you back and asks, "But is it right? Is it truth?"
Shortly after I left college I went to live in one of the most poverty-stricken districts of Chicago. One Sunday it was announced that Eugene would come there to speak. Thousands came to hear him, and overflowing the hall a multitude waited outside to hear him speak from a truck. After waiting for two hours perhaps, 'Gene came out and began to speak. Most of the audience were foreigners who could hardly understand a word of English, and as I heard his beautiful words and saw their wistful, earnest faces I felt that something more powerful, penetrating and articulate than mere words was passing between the audience and the speaker.
For a moment it seemed to me that a soul was speaking from the eyes and frame of 'Gene, and that , regardless of difference of language and all the traditional barriers that separated him from the multitude about him, they understood and believed all he said. I remember how my heart beat, and how tears began to flow from my boyish eyes. I was ashamed for fear someone would see me. And it was not because of anything that 'Gene was saying. It was solely because of something back of the man, something greater than the man, something bigger, more powerful, and more moving than any words or expression. And after the thing was over I went to him, helped him on with his coat, and fondled him as I would my own father or brother. And as we went away together there kept coming into my heart the words of Ruth:
Entreat me not to leave thee or to return from following after thee. For whither thou goest I will go and whither thou lodgest I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
[photograph and paragraph break added]
A POEM FOR DEBS BY HENRY FRANK
---------------
SOURCE
The Washington Socialist
(Everett, Washington)
-Jan 14, 1915
http://www.newspapers.com/...
See also:
Debs on War: The Canton Anti-War Speech, 1918
https://www.marxists.org/...
"Debs on Prisons and Prisoners" by David Karsner, 1919
pdf!https://www.marxists.org/...
Spearheads for Reform:
The Social Settlements and the Progressive Movement, 1890-1914
-by Allen F Davis
Rutgers University Press, 1984
(search: Robert Hunter; all pages are relevant)
https://books.google.com/...
IMAGES
Everett Theater
http://www.downtowneverett.com/...
Debs, Poem, & Announcement
see link at source above
Robert Hunter
http://en.wikipedia.org/..._(author)
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
EUGENE V. DEBS: "The Crimes of Carnegie"
Homestead Strike Song by Pete Seeger
Homestead Strike Song
We are asking one another
as we pass the time of day
Why working men resort to arms
to get their proper pay,
And why our labor unions
they must not be recognized,
While the actions of a syndicate
must not be criticized.
Now the troubles down at Homestead
were brought about this way
When a grasping corporation
had the audacity to say:
"You must all renounce your union
and forswear your liberty,
And we'll give you a chance to live
and die in slavery."
Chorus:
Now the man that fights for honor,
none can blame him.
May luck attend wherever he may roam.
And no son of his will ever live
to shame him.
Whilst Liberty and Honor rule our Home.
Now this sturdy band of working men
started out at the break of day
Determination in their faces
which plainly meant to say:
"No one can come and take our homes
for which we have toiled so long
No one can come and take our places ---
no, here's where we belong!"
A woman with a rifle
saw her husband in the crowd,
She handed him the weapon
and they cheered her long and loud.
He kissed her and said, "Mary,
you go home till we're through."
She answered,"No. If you must die,
my place is here with you."
Chorus
When a lot of tramp detectives
came without authority
Like thieves at night when decent men
were sleeping peacefully---
Can you wonder why all honest hearts
with indignation burn,
And why the slimy worm that treads the earth
when trod upon will turn?
When they locked out men at Homestead
so they were face to face
With a lot of bum detectives
and they knew it was their place
To protect their homes and families,
and this was neatly done
And the public will reward them
for the victories they won.
In: American labor songs of the nineteenth century
by Philip Sheldon Foner
University of Illinois Press, 1975
http://books.google.com/...
WE NEVER FORGET
THE HOMESTEAD MASSACRE
Peter Farris
John E. Morris
Joseph Sotak (a.k.a. Sappa), Initially misidentified as Joseph Sappa.
Andrew (Henry) Striegel
Silas Wain
Thomas Weldon
George W. Rutter
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
11:49 AM PT: Many thanks to NCTim for introducing Hellraisers to this great song, and esp Pete Segeer singing it. Just a wonderful performance!