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Note—I have always been proud of my active membership in
the Industrial Workers of the World—the Wobblies as a young man and my more
mature identification as a Unitarian Universalist, a denomination justly
identified for its commitment to social justice. But sometimes modern UU’s are so proud of
that reputation that they are loath to admit that not all of our Unitarian and
Universalist forbearers were always on the side of the angels.
We boast about early abolitionists like
Ralf Waldo Emerson and Theodore Parker and our very real martyrs in the Civil
Rights Movement, but it was not until Black UUs held our collective feet to the
fire to make us recognize our own White privilege that we began to face the
fact that Boston elite who helped found and sustain Unitarianism largely gained
their wealth in the Trans-Atlantic slave trade and then from the textile
industry made possible by slave labor on Southern plantations. Or that many Unitarians were violently
opposed to abolitionism and shunned and isolated crusaders like Parker. Or that post-Civil War Unitarians refused to
recognize Black Unitarian congregation.
And in the 1960’s when push came to shove the UUA refused to stand by
commitments made to Black members driving the majority of them from our
faith. Thankfully, we are finally coming
to grips with that as we are will our collective responsibility for settler colonialism
and the suppression and near annihilation of our indigenous peoples.
But facing enduring class bias has been
much harder. We hate to admit that a
deep streak of nativism and anti-Catholic and Jewish prejudice made the
Unitarian elite the often sworn enemy of unionism and that those same Brahmin
families who made their fortunes on the backs of Blacks were among the most intransient
of capitalist bosses and their allies throughout the establishment.
In 2012, the centennial year of the great
IWW led Lawrence Textile Strike I addressed the issue in one of the annual
Labor Day worship services I led for several years at the old Congregational
Unitarian Church in Woodstock, Illinois.
This is what I said.
It was cold on January 29,
1912. Thousands of mill workers, mostly women
and foreign born representing dozens
of ethnicities and languages, had been on strike in Lawrence, Massachusetts since January
11. Despite hardships and language barriers the strike had held firm despite
heavy police oppression and the mobilization of state militia units—the National Guard. Leaders of the militant Industrial Workers of the World, including Big Bill Haywood, Carlo Tresca, Joseph Ettor, Arturo Giavannitti and
18 year old Elizabeth Gurley Flynn had
arrived to help organize the strike.
The strike, one of the most
important labor struggles in American history,
is remembered today as the Bread and
Roses Strike for picket signs
carried by the women.
The press coverage of the Lawrence Strike labeled this photo "immigrant worker types" purposely dehumanizing women strikers. |
That morning Ettor led the largest mass march yet through the center of
Lawrence’s business district. Militia, with fixed bayonets, had disbursed the march. That afternoon while Ettor spoke to a mass meeting the regular pickets at the mill
gates were attacked by police, who opened
fire with pistols. Twenty three year old Anna LoPizzo was shot and killed. Her funeral
two days later was the largest event yet of the strike.
The policeman who fired the shot
that killed her at short range was not
punished. Despite this Ettor and
Giovannitti were arrested and charged in LoPizzo’s murder. They were held without bail.
Martial Law
was declared and all public meetings and marches officially banned.
The governor called out 22 more Militia companies. Two days later a 15 year old Syrian boy was bayoneted to death.
This weekend, we look back on this
as Unitarian Universalists not only
as a reminder of decades of labor struggle, but to assess who we are and how
our illustrious religious forbearers responded to manifest injustice.
If you think they flocked to the support of oppressed
workers, you would be dead wrong. On the contrary, the elite of American
Unitarianism were united in its determination to do everything possible to crush the strike. Not surprising in that among their numbers
were most of the great families
which had made their fortune in the New England textile industry, including the
Lawrences and the Lowells and many
of the leading ministers of Boston environs had married into or come from those
families. Almost to a man—and there were
no women—they thundered condemnation
from the pulpit, often using the most extreme
language and advocating even more violence to suppress what they saw as a revolutionary uprising of unwashed foreigners, most of them
despised Papists, Jews, and even Mohamadans.
The President of Harvard, A. Lawrence Lowell—can you guess his familial connections—went further.
He encouraged the Governor to
call up Harvard’s cavalry militia unit,
mostly made up of the sons of New England’s wealthiest families, to active duty to smash the strike. He also excused
all students who answered the call from all class work and examinations. The young men themselves could hardly contain their enthusiasm. Several left behind letters expressing their hope to “make short work of the swine.”
National Guard cavalry, perhaps the Harvard unit, on duty during the Lawrence strike. |
Of course, not every Unitarian in
1912 shared the intensity of the Boston
Brahmin’s class hatred and xenophobia. A few like rising young star John
Haynes Holmes who would
soon found the Community Church movement,
advocated for a progressive stand on
social justice, including support
for working people. In the Midwest where Jenkin Lloyd Jones had for decades presided over the quasi-independent Western Unitarian Conference and Unity movement, there was a good deal of pro-labor social gospel feeling. But by in large, Unitarianism was still a tribal religion of the New England
upper classes, and it showed.
Universalists of the period, who included many
people of modest means and education in addition to small business people and professionals, tended to support or
oppose labor based on local
circumstances and conditions. Industrialist
George Pullman is best remembered for being the cause of the great Pullman Strike of 1892 led by Eugene V. Debs of the American Railway Union, but he was one
of the Universalist captains of industry and one of the few to take a leading
anti-labor role.
According to Bruce Watson, author of Bread and Roses: Mills, Migrants, and the Struggle for the American Dream, “If America had a Tomb of the Unknown immigrant paying tribute to the millions of immigrants known only to God and distant cousins compiling family trees, Anna LoPizzo would be a prime candidate to lie in it.” She was so obscure that no known photo of her exists and there is even confusion over her age. Finally in 1990 retired IBEW business agent worked to get a marker on her pauper's grave decorated with a Bread and Roses symbol of a rose and wheat heads.
It has
taken decades for Unitarian Universalism to warm to the labor movement, despite progressive stands on other issues.
Most today are at least mildly
supportive or neutral. The old Brahman class has long since abandoned
Unitarianism for the respectability
of Episcopalianism and Congregationalism. Although we no longer have many super
wealthy, we are among the highest income
per-capita of all American religious organizations due the very large percentage of college graduates and professionals with advanced
degrees. Indeed today the biggest
barrier to more active solidarity with labor lies not in income prejudice, but in the refusal of many of us to acknowledge that we are, despite our degrees, by in large, wage earners ourselves. We don’t like to think of ourselves as
workers, which conjures in many
minds images of dirty fingernails, bad teeth, and ignorance.
As we now
strive to Stand on the Side of Love and
social justice, that is an attitude which we must abandon.
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