Chapter 4: The Outsiders
Many people in the United States are aware that, with
automation, enough could be easily produced in this country so
that there would be no need for the majority of Americans to
work. But the right to live has always been so tied up with
the necessity to produce that it is hard for the average person
to visualize a workless society. The result is that when people
face the perspective of their jobs being eliminated by automation,
all they can think of is learning a new trade or a new
profession, hoping that in this way they can maintain their
right to live.
As long as this country was in the situation that most
underdeveloped countries are in today, it was natural to tie
together the right to live with the ability to produce. But when
a country reaches the stage that this country has now reached,
productivity can no longer be the measure of an individual's
right to life. When you travel around this country and see new
automated plants springing up in one area after another, it
becomes apparent that the era when man had to earn his right
to live through work is rapidly drawing to a close. Within a
few years, man as a productive force will be as obsolete as the
mule.
It is in this serious light that we have to look at the question
of the growing army of unemployed. We have to stop
looking for solutions in pump-priming, featherbedding, public
works, war contracts, and all the other gimmicks that are always
being proposed by labor leaders and well-meaning liberals.
Nor is there any solution through production to aid the underdeveloped
countries. Perhaps this would be a possibility if we
lived in a world society where the whole world was working in
a unified way to advance the welfare of all. But the fact is that
we are living in a nation-state society in which millions of
dollars worth of goods rot away unless they can be used abroad
to further the foreign policy of this particular nation-state.
So there is no way to avoid facing the fundamental
problems. What we need today is a new Declaration of Human
Rights to fit the new Age of Abundance.
This nation cannot long endure short on rights and long on
goods. We must accept the plain fact that we are moving
towards an automated society and act on the basis of this fact.
The first principle that has to be established is that everyone
has a right to a full life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,
whether he is working or not. The question of the right to
a full life has to be divorced completely from the question of
work.
Society must recognize that the magnificent productive
tools of our day are the result of the accumulated labors of all
of us and not the exclusive property of any group or class.
Now that our productive machinery has been developed to the
point that it can do the tasks which have heretofore been done
by men, everyone, regardless of class, regardless of background,
is entitled to the enjoyment of the fruits of that development,
just as all men are entitled to warm themselves in the heat of
the sun.
Once it is recognized that all men have the right to a full
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, whether they are
working or not working, have worked or have not worked, it
will be necessary for society to create a completely new set of
values. Up to now, because productivity has been low, a man's
value has been determined by his labor from day to day, by
how much he could produce both to sustain himself and to
permit investment in new machinery. Now that man is being
eliminated from the productive process, a new standard of
value must be found. This can only be man's value as a
human being.
Up to now it has always been possible if not always easy
to cast aside the productive forces that have become obsolete.
Work animals were put to pasture; tools, machinery, factories,
and even whole industries have been simply scrapped or put
to the torch. It has been said that capitalism wages wars so
that it can get rid of surplus manpower that has become obsolete.
Whether or not this has been true in the past, no capitalist
in these days of nuclear warfare would be foolish enough to
take this way out. The key question therefore is what should be
done with man who is being made obsolete by the new stage
of production. Obviously no ordinary solution is possible. This
is the social dilemma of our time.
No one understands better than a worker the humiliation
and sense of personal degradation that is involved when some
big shot is coming through the shop and the superintendent tells
him to "look busy" in order to prove that there is useful work
going on. That is what our whole society is like today. By all
kinds of gimmicks—including war work, which may end up by
killing off those for whom jobs are being created, and a host
of government agencies set up to study the problems of "full
employment"—the American government is now trying to
make work when we are already on the threshold of a workless
society.
In the fall of 1961 as Chrysler workers were streaming
out of the plant, they were telling one another: "This could
be a long strike because the company don't need us at all. They
got plenty of cars in storage." That these workers practically
to a man felt this way is a sign of the work situation in the
United States, not only in the auto plants but in the TV plants,
appliance plants, the furniture industry, the clothing industry,
and in every domestic industry. It is a known fact that one
single auto company like GM or Ford, or a single refrigerator
company like General Electric or Westinghouse, or any major
steel firm like U. S. Steel or Bethlehem, could produce enough
so that all their competitors could close down. All they would
have to do is bring in a little more automation and cybernation
(automation plus computers). What they are doing today is
"competing" with one another and splitting up the profit. Only
in war work, and particularly in missiles, can workers feel
sure that if they go on strike they will be missed. This is the
dilemma of the United States: What is to be done with the
men and women who are being made obsolete by the new stage
of production?
The American economy is kept going today by the pumppriming
of war contracts. This kind of work produces no goods
that will reach the consumer market, because what is produced
is blown up or stored—some of it at the bottom of the sea.
However, by this means money is put into the hands of the
large corporations to pay out to their employees, who in turn
buy consumer goods.
It is when you begin to think of a peacetime economy that
everybody, from the average worker to the labor leader, from
the government official to the big capitalist begins to have nightmares.
Each may have a different view of what should happen
to the unemployed, but they all have one thing in common:
they believe that man must work.
The average worker believes this because that is the only
way he or she has been able to live. The labor leaders believe
it because if workers didn't have to work, labor leaders wouldn't
have anyone to lead. The government official believes it because
the role of the government has become that of regulating
relations between management and labor, both of whom must
exist in order for government to play its part. Thus, as Kennedy's
speech to the UAW convention and his overtures to
industry show so clearly, government alternately appeases and
rebukes both wage-earners and capitalists. Finally, the big
capitalists can only see themselves growing richer and more
powerful if they are in control of the destinies of the workers
and the means whereby they must earn a living.
None of these people, and this includes the liberal economists
who propose public works and foreign aid as a substitute
for war contracts, has left behind the 18th-century philosophy
that man must earn his living by the sweat of his brow, and
that anyone who can't or doesn't work (unless he happens to
own property), is a misfit, an outcast, and a renegade from
society.
None of these people is ready to admit that with automation
and cybernation we have to have a much bolder and more
radical approach to society. The change which we are facing
is more radical than the change which 5,000 years ago transformed
men from roving bands of tribesmen and hunters into
forced laborers on the irrigation projects of the early states.
Today the creative work of production is being done by
the research engineers, the program planners, the scientists, the
electronic experts. Already there are over 850,000 scientists
in industry, without counting all those outside of industry who
are working toward much the same goals. What they are
creating is a mode of production which, as long as the present
system continues, excludes more and more people from playing
any productive role in society. This means that our society, as
we have known it, is just as finished as feudal society was
finished by the time capitalism arrived on the scene. It means
not only that hundreds of thousands are yearly being displaced
from production, but also that millions are outsiders to begin
with. These millions have never been and never can be absorbed
into this society at all. They can only be absorbed into a totally
new type of society whose first principle will have to be that
man is the master and not the servant of things.
Today in the United States there is no doubt that those
at the bottom are growing in numbers much faster than the
system will ever be able to absorb. This reflects the population
explosion which is taking place right here inside the United
States. Already there are millions of young men and women
who have never held any jobs at all and who live from hand
to mouth, either by charity or by petty crime: in other words
at the expense of those who are working. They cannot be
integrated into society unless they work, and there is no prospect
of any work for them. What is more, the social measures which
made work for such people in the days of the New Deal are
completely silly in an age when you can dig ditches, lay
bridges, and build buildings merely by pushing a few buttons.
All this means that there can be no smug plan for reforming
this system. Because when you add to those who are
daily being displaced from the plant the millions who have never
even had a chance to work inside a plant, what you have is
no longer just the unemployed and the castaways, but a revolutionary
force or army of outsiders and rejects who are totally
alienated from this society.
We must have no illusions that there will be any easy
unity between these outsiders and those who are inside the
system because they are still working. Already, as we have
noted above, the labor organizations themselves are separating
off the employed from the unemployed for whom they can do
nothing. The present work force is itself a product of the old
society and struggling to survive within it. This means that we
must look to the outsiders for the most radical, that is the
deepest, thinking as to the changes that are needed. What ideas
will they have? They have not yet expressed them clearly, but
their target is very clear. It is not any particular company or
any particular persons but the government itself. Just how they
will approach or penetrate this target I do not know nor do
I know what will happen when they have done what they must
do. But I know that the army of outsiders which is growing by
leaps and bounds in this country is more of a threat to the
present "American way of life" than any foreign power.
Ask the average American what is the biggest threat to
our way of life and the chances are that he will blurt out
"Communism." He sees the threat as coming from a foreign
power. Yet the fact that, after all these years of capitalism, he
is so afraid of another system means that capitalism has definitely
not proved itself to be the system which man must have to
live his life as a full and equal human being.
If you can once get the average American to stop blaming
everything on the Communists (or the Negroes, or the Jews,
or the Italians) and finally face up to the fact that there is a
crisis in his own country, and then ask him what the real
crisis is, the chances are good that he will say "Automation."
But when he says this, he still has a distant look in his eyes as
if automation, too, is something that will pass without creating
or demanding too great a change in the present system of
having to work for a living.
But for the outsiders who have never been and can never
be involved in this system, regardless of how much free enterprise
or initiative they show, automation means something much
deeper. It means that they have to find a new concept of how
to live and let live among human beings. A new generation of
these "workless people" is rapidly growing up in this country.
For them, the simple formula of "more schools and more education
and more training" is already outmoded. We already
have with us a generation of youth who have completed high
school and had some kind of training and yet have found no
mode of production into which they can fit. Because as fast
as they are trained for a higher technical stage of production,
just as fast does a new technical revolution take place. Whereas
the old workers used to hope that they could pit their bodies
against iron and outlast the iron, this new generation of workless
people knows that even their brains are being outwitted
by the iron brains of automation and cybernation. To tell
these people that they must work to earn their living is like
telling a man in the big city that he should hunt big game for
the meat on his table.
This means that the new generation, the outsiders, the
workless people, now have to turn their thoughts away from trying
to outwit the machines and instead toward the organization
and reorganization of society and of human relations inside
society. The revolution which is within these people will have
to be a revolution of their minds and hearts, directed not
toward increasing production but toward the management and
distribution of things and toward the control of relations among
people, tasks which up to now have been left to chance or in
the hands of an elite.
There are some people among the older generation who
recognize that this is the threat or promise contained in automation
and cybernation, but most of them are afraid to face the
reality and continue to hope that the old house can still be
patched up. The outsiders, in contrast, owe no allegiance to
any system but only to themselves. Being workless, they are also
stateless. They have grown up like a colonial people who no
longer feel any allegiance to the old imperial power and are
each day searching for new means to overthrow it.
I am not saying that this new generation of outsiders is as
of now an organized force. It is not as simple as that. In fact,
no existing organization would even think of organizing them,
which means that they will have to organize themselves and
that the need to organize themselves will soon be forced upon
them as they grow in numbers like the beggars on the streets
of India. The big difference between them and Indian beggars
is that in India the means to live without having to work are
not available, while in the United States these means are all
around them, before their very eyes. The only question, the
trick, is how to take them.
The forces of a cold war are thus taking shape inside
the United States: the war between those who are setting up
all kinds of social agencies, training bureaus, and the like to
head off the stateless and workless people, and those who are
learning every day that these stop-gaps offer no solution to their
problems. Just as the natural wealth and technical advances of
this country have meant that a lot more people here can share
in the material things of life than anywhere else, so the eruption
of this new group will pose radical concepts beyond the
imagination of us all, but certainly founded on the principle
that people should be able to enjoy everything in life and from
life, without being fettered or limited by any system.
These radical concepts cannot come from organized labor.
In the 30's the class struggle of the American workers, united,
organized, and disciplined by the process of production, reached
its greatest height in the organization of the CIO. Today in the
60's the American labor movement has reached the end of the
road. In the face of the social and ideological adjustments that
are necessary to meet the revolutionary changes that have
taken place in technology, organized labor is as reactionary today
as organized capital was thirty years ago. The fundamental
reason for this is that organized labor continues to cherish the
idea that man must work in order to live, in an age when it is
technologically possible for men simply to walk out on the
streets and get their milk and honey. To talk about full employment
and getting the unemployed back to work at this
point when we are on the threshold of the workless society, is as
reactionary as it was for the "rugged individualists" to say in
the 30's that the only reason why a man wasn't working was
that he didn't have the initiative to go out and get himself a job.
Even in their best days, it should be remembered, the CIO
and AFL were not able to do much about unemployment. In
1939 when the Second World War began, there were still more
than 9 million unemployed, well over twice today's official
figure. With the war, millions of old and new workers went into
the plants and the last layer of the population, which had up to
then been completely outside of industry—the Negroes—was
finally brought in. Following the war the pent-up purchasing
power of the population kept employment high for several
years. But after the Korean War management started a two-pronged
attack, automating the plants and tightening up on
work rules. At about the same time, unemployment began
creeping up again.
Organized labor, instead of facing the challenge inherent
in automation and the potentiality of material abundance, responded
by continuing to seek ways and means to achieve full
employment—ranging all the way from demands for a shorter
work week and retraining programs to appeals for bigger tax
cuts and fatter war contracts.
Why is organized labor unable to face the issues posed by
the 60's? To answer this question we have to look at the
changes that have taken place in this country, industrially and
socially, over the last quarter century.
As long as the vast majority of a population has not begun
to acquire the consumption goods that are possible under
conditions of modern technology, the employers are producing
not only for profit but also for social use. The people actually
need the goods that are being produced, the refrigerators, the
cars, the radios, the TVs. These goods provide the material
base so that the people can live like human beings. But once
the point is reached where the vast majority have acquired these
goods, then the manufacturers are no longer producing for
social use. Apart from a reduced need for service and replacement,
they are producing for a market which has been created
not by the needs of the people but by the needs of the manufacturers.
They continue producing so that they can continue
to make profits and to stimulate the necessary demand, they
produce shoddy goods, plan obsolescence, and above all "sell"
the population, stimulating its appetite for more and more
useless commodities, propagandizing and corrupting it.
Organized labor shares the concern of the employers to
keep production going. Its motive is different but the aim is
the same. The manufacturers want to maintain production for
the sake of profits; the unions want to maintain it to keep up
their memberships. Thus the labor organizations have in effect
become partners with management in a system of corrupting
the population. Each needs the other because each is faced
with the same insoluble predicament of capitalism today—that
through the use of machines enough can now be produced for
everybody without any need either for millions of dollars in
profits or millions of people at work.
In order to continue with its philosophy of full employment,
organized labor has become part and parcel of the
"American way of life." It has become partners with the
military in establishing and maintaining a war machine the
only purpose of which is to threaten the destruction of all
humanity.
The philosophy of "Solidarity Forever" on which the
labor movement was built is today in rags and tatters. There
is a never-ending dog-eat-dog fight going on between international
unions over the available work—who is going to build
a new factory, who has jurisdiction in a new construction project,
who is going to do the electrical work or transport the
equipment. There is a never-ending dog-eat-dog fight going on
between locals of the same union over which plant is actually
going to get a particular operation or which local will have
jurisdiction in a new construction project, who is going to do
the electrical work or transport the equipment. There is a
never-ending dog-eat-dog fight going on between those workers
who want to work only 40 hours a week and the money-hungry
ones who spend all their time catering to the boss and stool-pigeoning
on their fellow-workers in order to get the fat $150-$200-a-week
checks that come from working 50, 60, and 70
hours. Meanwhile those inside the plant become ever more
removed from those outside.
The philosophy of "Workers of the World Unite" is also
in rags and tatters. The AFL-CIO has official connections with
organized labor in other countries and periodically sends a
token sum to support a strike. But American organized labor's
attitude to the workers of the world is essentially the same as
its attitude to the outsiders at home. They should be thrown a
bone now and then, but if they were to make any real progress
it would be a threat to the insiders. Thus, organized labor is
as opposed to imports from foreign countries and as anxious
about America's future in relation to the European Common
Market as the most reactionary employer. It is as opposed as
the American government to the independent development of
the economy of the underdeveloped countries and as ready to
act as a counter-revolutionary force against all revolutions in
the underdeveloped countries.
What about the union militants? Every few months
around any auto shop, groups of workers are getting together
to discuss how to "bring the union back to the shop." The
union is already there, officially. It is recognized by the company;
a contract exists between the company and the international
governing that particular plant. Yet these workers are
constantly getting together with the expressed purpose of "bringing
the union back." For them "bringing the union back" means
bringing back the atmosphere that existed in the late 30's and
the early 40's—when they would shut down the plant over a
production dispute and settle the issue then and there; when
they could talk back to the supervisor without being penalized;
when they could go to the toilet whenever they needed to;
when they could get a day off to attend someone's funeral without
begging the foreman, as they have to do nowadays.
These are very natural and human rights, rights which
the workers themselves know they have lost. Yet these groups attract
very little support. In fact, the more militant they are the
less support they get. Instead, the groups who more or less
follow the union machine usually win majority support, easily
coming out on top in union elections without even making any
promises to the workers except to support the policies of the
international.
The militants who are always meeting and discussing and
devising ways and means of "bringing back the union" are
generally the most advanced workers in the sense that they are
ready to struggle for better working conditions. Yet when you
tell these militants that they are never going to bring the union
back to where it was, because the union that they are thinking
about and hoping for has already outlived its usefulness, and
that the workers are never again going to struggle for and
through this kind of organization, they can't understand why.
They have become so accustomed to what used to happen in
the early days of the union, when large numbers of workers
were very militant, that they still believe that there are plenty
of militant workers left in the shop and that all they have to do
is to get together and organize them. They cannot face the
changes that have taken place in production since the 30's. They
cannot get it into their heads that these old workers who used
to be so militant are now a vanishing herd who know that they
are a vanishing herd, who know that, because of automation,
the days of workers like themselves in manufacturing are
numbered, and who have therefore decided that all they can do
now is fight to protect their pensions and seniority and hope
that the company will need them to work until they are old
enough to retire or die, whichever comes first.
You would think that in this restless group of militants
who have fought so hard for progress, there would be some
who could see the handwriting on the wall and realize that
work as they have known it, and the mobilization of people in
struggle over working conditions, have become obsolete. But it
is in this group of militants that you find the greatest reluctance
to accept the inevitability of the workless society. In
this refusal to face reality, these militants who are so advanced
are really behind the average worker who has reconciled himself
to eventual oblivion. Why?
It is precisely because these workers are more advanced,
in the sense of wanting to struggle for progress, that they cling
to the idea of organizing the struggle through work. The fact
is that it is through the struggle over work that social reforms
have been won over the last 100 years, and especially in this
country from the middle 30's to the middle 40's. The struggle
around working conditions has been the most progressive factor
in American society, educating and organizing people to fight
for human rights as nothing else in this society has been able
to do. These militants know this because they have lived through
it. Most of them, without ever having read a word of Marx,
have experienced in life what Marx analyzed in theory. They
cannot give up an idea or a method on which they have depended
for progress until they can see another one, and they
have not yet seen or figured out another way to fight for human
needs and human rights.
There are a lot of people outside the shop, not only
radicals but liberals also, who have much the same idea as
these union militants. Only it is not as obvious in their case
because they are not in the shop and therefore do not have the
opportunity to organize themselves into little groups so easily.
But these liberals and radicals are also hoping and waiting on
the workers to struggle. Even those who attack Marx most
viciously still think like Marx, because what Marx thought was
so true until only a few short years ago when the new age
of nuclear energy, automation, and cybernation began.
Actually these union militants will go down fighting for
things like a shorter work week (30-for-40), or two months
paid vacation, or six months paid furlough, or the four-hour
day—all of which demands are within the framework of keeping
the work force intact. Even when there is no longer any
reason, because of the development of automation and cybernation,
to keep the work force intact, they will still fight to keep
it intact. Therefore it is hopeless to look to them as the ones
to lead the fight for a workless society. The workless society is
something that can only be brought about by actions and
forces outside the work process.
Government officials, labor officials, and the university
professors whom they both hire to help them beat their brains
are working overtime, trying to find some scheme to create
full employment. But whatever schemes they come up with,
whether the 35-hour week, new training programs, bigger and
badder war contracts, or bigger and better public works projects,
they are playing a losing game. America is headed toward
full unemployment, not full employment.
In 1962 I visited the West Coast where a large percentage
of the country's war work is concentrated and the newspapers
rejoice every time a new war contract is awarded to the area.
Yet, talking to guys who work in the plant like myself, I found
that their main worry is what to do about automation and the
people it is throwing out of work. A friend of mine told me
about a Mexican-American who works in the plant with him
and who describes automation as a beast of the world which
is moving in on people and nobody knows what to do about
"it." This worker has come to the conclusion that the only
sensible solution is for the company to put in new machines as
fast as it can, while every guy who is displaced by these new
machines continues to receive his weekly paycheck. His idea
is that the sooner the machines become fully employed and
the people become fully unemployed, the better.
My friend has put some thought into how this would
work and has decided that if the old philosophy that man has
to go to work must be retained, then the displaced workers
could continue to go to the plant and just sit around and
watch the machines. He was quite sure that if this happened
the workers would be continually putting forward new suggestions
as to how to redesign the machines to make them
more efficient and displace more men, instead of doing what
they are now doing, constantly trying to think up new ways
to fight the machine so as to keep their jobs. We both agreed
that there is nothing more agonizing than holding back the
ideas that every worker is constantly getting as to how to increase
productivity.
I told him that I could foresee a time when machines
would be so perfected that there would be no need for the
great majority of people to go into the plant except occasionally,
and that I was quite sure that, once released from the necessity
to work, men and women would come up with new ideas
for increasing productivity that would astonish the world. Fishermen
just fishing for fun would come up with new ideas for
fishing, guys puttering around their lawns would think up new
ways to grow grass, people with nothing to do but sit around
and observe would be constantly producing new ideas and
bursting to share them with others. It is only the necessity to
work, forced labor, that has created in man the need to fight
new modes of production and to keep new ideas about increasing
production to himself.
One immediate step out of the dilemma would be to
employ the seniority system in reverse. As new machines are
brought in, those who have been working longest, instead of
being kept on the job, should be eased out of work. Every
company, even if it has to get subsidies from the government
to do so, should put in the most modern equipment available,
and as this is done those workers with the highest seniority
should be laid off with continued full pay equal to that of
those still working.
This would be very far from being a solution, however,
since it does not take into consideration the million and a half
young people who are entering the adult world every year plus
the millions like them who, being unemployed, have no claim
on any company. It is in connection with this group of outsiders
that those who hope for full employment are really
caught in a dilemma. These millions can never become part of
any work force in the sense that we know it. There is no Siberia
to which they can be sent, and even if there were they wouldn't
go. They have seen too much of what is possible in this society;
they also know that there are enough of them around to be a
threat. Already the big question in cities like Detroit is whether
a way can be found for these outsiders to live before they kill
off those of us who are still working. How long can we leave
them hanging out in the streets ready to knock the brains out
of those still working in order to get a little spending money?
Obviously it would be far better to give these outsiders a
weekly check also, rather than leave them with no alternative
but to look for guns and knives to use against the insiders. But
giving them a check is not enough. There has to be some way
in which to develop their creative abilities and sense of responsibility,
because without this they can become completely
empty creatures. What makes it so easy to propose a weekly
pay check for those who have worked all their lives is that
they have already acquired some discipline and sense of responsibility
from their work. But those who have never worked
and will never get a chance to in this society will have to find
some other way to develop their creative abilities before these
are destroyed by forced idleness.
This is one of the great challenges facing our society today.
Another is the question of peace and war to which we
now turn.
Chapter 5: Peace and War
When the A-Bomb was exploded by the United States
over Hiroshima, the vast majority of Americans rejoiced. To
them the Bomb simply meant the end of the war and the return
home of brothers, sons, fathers. Few Americans realized
the potential threat that the Bomb represented to all mankind.
In fact, not until much later was it learned that key scientists
who had actually been involved in the creation of the Bomb
had argued against its military use, pointing out that it would
be only a few years before other countries would have the
same weapon. Einstein, without whose theories the A-Bomb
could never have been created, said later that if he had known
the use to which his ideas would be put, he would have become
a plumber.
Outside the United States today what comes to many
people's minds when the Bomb is mentioned is the fact that it
was first dropped on a nation of colored people and not on the
Germans who were also the enemy in World War II. Inside
the United States this fact is rarely mentioned.
For four years after the end of the Second World War
the A-Bomb was to the United States what the British Navy
had been to Western Civilization prior to the First World War.
It made the United States "boss," and the Americans didn't
let anybody forget it. But it was obvious that the United States
could not long retain its monopoly of the Bomb. In fact, in
the era of scientific technology symbolized by the Bomb, the
United States could only lose the military supremacy which
it had previously enjoyed on the basis of mass armaments production.
It was difficult therefore for people outside the United
States to take seriously the American offer to put the Bomb
into mothballs if no other power would try to produce one.
Then in 1949 two things happened which brought about
a radical change in world politics. First, the largest country
in the world, China, was taken over by the Communists. And
second, Russia exploded an A-Bomb.
The mere thought that the United States would now have
to justify its position as a world power in more or less equal
competition with the Russians produced panic in every section
of American official society. It was this panic which created
the environment in which McCarthy ran wild. In rapid succession
a list of subversive organizations was issued by the
Attorney General and laws were passed to screen and bar from
the United States anyone suspected of radical connections. Non-citizens
were denied the formal democratic rights of free speech,
free belief, and free association, of arrest only with warrant,
and of the right to judicial appeal over administrative decree.
Naturalized citizens, some of them residents of this country
since infancy, became subject to denaturalization and deportation
by administrative action if suspected of radical politics at
any time in their lives. The heads of government began accusing
their predecessors of treason, like murderers and cutthroats
at bay in a basement. New Deal liberals were hunted
with the ferocity of a pack of blood-thirsty wolves; scientists,
newspapermen, and artists were hounded into becoming informers
or else giving up their professions. People hid their
books, destroyed records by Paul Robeson, and cancelled their
subscriptions to liberal newspapers and magazines, lest by these
signs of intellectual activity they invite investigation on suspicion
of subversion.
In foreign policy the United States began its brink-to-brink
improvisation; the hasty gathering up of allies like
Franco and Chiang Kai-shek, completely discredited in their
own countries and abroad; the wooing of Tito; the arming
of Germany; and finally the reckless development and testing
of bigger and better bombs and guided missiles, competing with
Russia like two football teams competing for an international
championship.
During this time the Marxist organizations in the United
States persistently pointed out the horrors of the Bomb, but
primarily in the spirit of propaganda, against capitalism and
some against Russian Communism, and in general for socialism.
Meanwhile they went their merry or unmerry way, as if
the Bomb were just another stage in imperialist warfare, saying
little about it as long as the workers were quiet about it. With
the history of past anti-war groupings in mind, and particularly
comparing their own "realism" with the idealism of the pacifists,
they were content to rest their hopes on the workers' eventually
making a revolution, taking control of society, and putting an
end to imperialist war. Actually, what they failed to realize is
that just as automation represents a revolution in the process
of production, so the A-Bomb, H-Bomb, and intercontinental
missiles represent a revolution in the process of warfare. Mankind
has now reached the stage of pushbutton war and mass
suicide.
Up to now it had been possible to speculate about what
attitude the workers or the masses of the population might or
ought to adopt toward a war once it had been declared or
started, e.g. organize a general strike or rise in protest and
bring it to an end. It had been possible to predict that the
shattering effects of a prolonged war fought with modern
weapons would set the stage for revolutions, after which the
workers could begin the herculean task of reconstructing
society.
The new reality today, however, is that the Bomb does
not recognize any distinctions between race, class, or nation.
When it falls, it will fall on everybody, regardless. When it
falls, it will leave no class behind to reconstruct society—not
even the workers. A nuclear war would leave no time for anyone
to debate or argue about policy or organize a general
strike. If there is going to be any movement that will stop the
Bomb and create the conditions for revolution, it will have to
come before the Bomb is dropped—not afterwards. If there is
going to be a revolution over the question of nuclear war, it
will have to be before the nuclear war starts—not afterwards.
With the launching of Sputnik and its beep-beep-beep
overhead, the world suddenly became aware that an H-Bomb
could be launched in the same way. The Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans which had made so many generations of Americans feel
so secure no longer appeared as a protection. Americans began
to feel the dread and horror with which Europeans for years
had been responding to the brinkmanship of Dulles.
But the years of Cold War had made war a way of life
for the government and all its military and paramilitary departments.
It had become a way of life for half of America's
major industries. It had become a way of life for America's
workers. It had become a way of life for the trade unions. It
had become a way of life for the professional crusaders against
Communism and the elements in the population whom they
represent. It had become a way of life even for most of
America's churches.
Significantly, the only people who had begun a serious
questioning of war as a way of life were those most directly
and intimately involved in the revolution which had taken
place in modern warfare, the atomic scientists themselves. Even
before the explosion of the first Bomb over Japan, a task force
of scientists, headed by Dr. James Franck, had set itself up
as a "Committee on Social and Political Implications" and submitted
a report to the government arguing against the direct
military use of the Bomb. In 1945, after the Bomb had been
dropped, a group of scientists under the leadership of Eugene
Rabinovitch, a Chicago chemist, began publishing the Bulletin
of the Atomic Scientists as a forum where scientists could point
out the perils of nuclear warfare and examine roads to disarmament.
So intense have been the debate and discussion
among scientists that it is possible to speak of two unofficial
"parties" in the American scientific community: the "humanitarian
party" which calls in varying degrees for a ban on the
Bomb; and the "government" party which supports and lends
authority to the government's policy. The humanitarian party,
emphasizing the cooperative, non-national, and in fact international
character of science, has been responsible for holding
international conferences with their colleagues from behind the
Iron Curtain. These conferences have become known as the
Pugwash Conferences, since the first three of them (1957-1959)
were held on the Pugwash, Nova Scotia, estate of American
industrialist Cyrus Eaton, after permission to enter the
United States was denied by American authorities to Communist
scientists.
However, the humanitarian party among the scientists has
remained isolated from the American public. The loudest voice
heard in public has been that of Dr. Edward Teller, chiefly
responsible for the creation of the H-Bomb and leading exponent
of government policy. When Nobel Laureate Linus
Pauling was called before a Congressional Committee in 1960
and asked to inform on those who had helped him get up a
1958 ban-the-bomb petition to the UN (this petition had been
signed by 11,021 scientists from 49 countries, including 104
from the United States), it caused scarcely a ripple in this
country.
In the summer of 1961 this situation began to change.
After a three-year moratorium on testing by the two powers,
and at the height of the Berlin crisis, the Russians resumed
nuclear testing at a rapid rate. By this time the American
people could no longer comfort themselves by doubting the
technological capacities of the Russians. Gagarin and Titov
put an end to that.
In Britain where the country had been caught between
East and West and where it was obvious that the whole island
could be destroyed by one bomb, the ban-the-bomb movement
had been growing for years and reached a peak in 1960-1961.
The Africans declared their opposition to any nuclear testing
on their soil. But in the United States anti-bomb demonstrations
could rarely rally more than a few hundred supporters,
mainly long-time pacifists.
Following the Russian tests, however, the movement began
to take on mass momentum. November 1, on the initiative
of a few women in Washington, D.C., a series of demonstrations
took place in 60 cities from coast to coast. In all, about
50,000 women took part. In New York and Los Angeles there
were several thousand women in the demonstrations. In the
Boston area hundreds of students and university faculty members
marched on the Federal Arsenal at Watertown. With the
entry onto the scene of the women, the students, and the
professors, the ban-the-bomb movement began to take on a
broad social character. Since November 1, 1961, Women
Strike for Peace committees in various cities have remained
more or less intact, in order to organize periodic demonstrations at the UN, before Federal Buildings, to march on Washington,
to send delegations to City Councils and State Legislatures,
etc. Across the country over 4,000 professors added their
names to an open letter to President Kennedy, protesting the
futility of Civil Defense in this age of nuclear war. Students
from all over the country organized a March on Washington
on February 16, 1962.
It is quite obvious that these demonstrations have begun
to take on the character of a social movement, confronting the
warfare state and implying a challenge to it despite the announced
(and no doubt genuine) intentions of the participants
simply to implement the "peace race" proposals of the President.
In turn, the growth of the ban-the-bomb movement has
given and will give further impetus to the counter-revolutionary
super-patriots, led by the Birchites, the militant ex-generals,
the Dixiecrats, and the China Lobby, and gain support
among the veterans and middle-class layers who live on the
past glories of the All-American state. Up to now the organized
labor movement has given only token support to the peace
movement. Obviously fearful that widespread agitation against
the Bomb will upset the warfare economy and increase dissatisfaction
among workers already living in dread of unemployment,
it has carefully refrained from calling upon workers
to participate in the ban-the-bomb movement.
The new peace groupings, and particularly the scientists
and women, have already passed one test that other organizations
in the United States have failed since the Cold War and
McCarthy era began. They have been able to meet and overcome
the label of "pro-Communism." This was the great victory
won by the Women Strike for Peace at the House Un-American
Activities Committee hearings in late 1962. Up to
then, every grouping which had been labelled in this way by
patriotic organizations or by any of the various governmental
committees and agencies had been fatally weakened. But so
great is the fear of nuclear annihilation among the scientists and
women that it has enabled them to overcome the fear of Communism.
Communism at worst could only mean a change in
the political system. The Bomb would mean no existence and
therefore no system at all. In that sense these peace groupings have gone beyond the "Better Red than Dead" smear, and this
in itself is a great victory.
But the United States is so full of other social and economic
contradictions that even though the new peace movement
has been able to surmount the kind of official and unofficial
attack which heretofore has crippled other organizations
which began to tackle the warfare state, this has not been
enough. In October, 1962, the Cuban crisis came along, and
although many of the members of the peace movement found
themselves in protest picket lines, the heart of the peace movement
has practically stopped beating since that time. The fact
is that, for the peace movement really to have contested the
President's actions in Cuba, it would have had to call upon
the missile workers in this country not to produce missiles, and
for the sailors of this country not to man the ships. In other
words, it would have had to face the reality that as long as the
United States has missiles and rockets, every other country has
the right to have missiles and rockets, even one only ninety
miles off the shores of the United States, and regardless of
whether such missiles are offensive or defensive.
Up to the time of the Cuban crisis the peace movement
in this country only had to grapple with the question of bombs
and missiles in the hands of the two great powers—the United
States and the USSR. But in the Cuban crisis it was confronted
with the question of missiles and bombs in the hands of
a country which is part of the world revolutionary and anticolonial
struggle. This is the question which the peace movement
is going to have to face increasingly as the months and
years pass.
In the Cuban crisis the peace movement was confronted
with the question of the ex-colonial countries and their rights,
just as in the course of its development inside this country, it has
already been confronted with the question of its relation to the
Negro struggle. The reason is that the question of peace