National Affairs: Problem Child

“We’ve reached the saturation point for long-winded speeches,” cried a rebellious delegate at President Homer Martin who was orating at the United Automobile Workers second annual convention in Milwaukee last week. “Why aren’t the committees ready to report?”

“Brother Anderson,” drawled Homer Martin like the Baptist preacher he once was, “I’ll answer you in kind. You and obstructionists like you are holding up the committees.”

This exchange perceptibly relieved the feelings of the 1,200 U. A. W. delegates on the floor. Their union, which has mushroomed from 30,000 to 375,000 members since it convened in South Bend, Ind. a year ago, which is now the third biggest union in C. I. 0. (after United Mine Workers) was badly contorted by growing pains. The disagreement between cocky, young Homer Martin and his vice presidents, Wyndham Mortimer and Ed Hall, brewing ever since Martin blamed them for this summer’s sporadic “unauthorized” General Motors sitdowns, had reached such a point that President Martin was determined to oust both. Although Homer Martin was unopposed for reelection, the Mortimer-Hall faction had been holding caucuses over the week-end to line up a “unity group” to oppose his “dictatorial” objectives.

To John L. Lewis, who in years past fought similar fights in his United Mine Workers and now has U. A. W. as his particular problem child, this meant a trip to Milwaukee. Leader Lewis was preceded by Ora Gassaway, long his able lieutenant in the United Mine Workers, and John Brophy, executive director of the C. I. O. Miner Gassaway, explaining that “Mr. Lewis thought I might be of some assistance,” delivered a sober warning: “Take my advice. You have got to cut out these political and factional fights.”

First effect of this paternal visitation was felt when Homer Martin withdrew from his welcoming speech a sharp reference to the sitdowns. He was chastened when the convention in a voice vote objected to three of his pet proposals: to make the conventions biennial rather than annual, to require a 50% vote of the membership (rather than of five locals from three different States) to call special conventions, to decrease the delegate representation of big locals, i.e., the Flint and West Detroit strongholds of Unity Lieutenants Robert Travis and Walter Reuther. Mr. Martin announced that an even more high-handed proposal, to give the president power to dismiss other executive officers, would be returned to committee.

Amid discord, one thing every United Automobile Worker could agree on, however, was that the first and biggest obstacle in their union path was Henry Ford. The delegates stamped and whistled when Wisconsin’s labor-loving Governor Philip Fox La Follette observed: “Henry Ford is probably a nice fellow personally. . . . He just doesn’t understand modern trends. He has his feet in 1937 and his head in 1837.” Cried Homer Martin: “We’ll say ‘Henry, if you want to continue to make and sell autos in America, you’d better get ready to put a union label on those Fords.’ ” But the biggest oratorical gun was fired by John L. Lewis, who arrived in time to give his personal blessing to the Ford drive.

“Henry Ford,” he rumbled, “may believe that he is the biggest industrialist in America; he may believe that his will is superior to the will of his employes; he may believe that he is bigger than the United Automobile Workers; he may believe that he is bigger than the Congress of the United States when he refuses to abide by the Wagner Act enacted by the Congress; he may believe all these things, but if he does he is going to be a tired old man pretty soon.”

Warming to his audience, Miner Lewis took them into his confidence about Miner William Green who, he charged, had telephoned Michigan’s Governor Frank Murphy during the General Motors negotiations to plead “from his drooling lips” that no agreement be permitted. “Be it said,” roared John L. Lewis darkly, “that on the third Tuesday of next January the delegates of the United Mine Workers of America will assemble in constitutional convention and at that time these delegates will deal with the case of William Green” (presumably by ousting him from his lifelong union).

After the Lewis speech the delegates, pounding, shouting, waving their banners, unanimously adopted a motion calling for a special assessment of $1 on each member to raise a war chest for the drive on Ford. “We’ll be in before snow flies,” said Homer Martin. That was the signal for a long demonstration with the convention band blaring Solidarity Forever.

Meantime under Leader Lewis’ stern eye Homer Martin and his subordinates proceeded to a compromise. Upon the recommendation of Mr. Lewis, who thought it would save money, the biennial convention was approved. Also approved was a resolution to change the name of the union to International Union of United Automobile & Aircraft Workers. Homer Martin got a face-saving concession, the power to suspend any other officers in “emergencies.” subject to appeal to the executive board. The problem of who the officers would be was neatly solved by increasing the number of vice presidents by two to make room for Mr. Martin’s candidates, promising 30-year-old Detroit Organizer Richard Frankensteen, and President Roland J. Thomas of the Chrysler local. When this arrangement had been approved by factional caucuses and gratefully voted through by the convention, irrepressible Homer Martin exulted: “Our enemies are sad, our friends are glad, and with John L. Lewis labor marches on!”

In Dearborn, Mich., news of the oncoming drive was conveyed to Harry Bennett, Henry Ford’s private police chief and spokesman, whose men were accused in a National Labor Relations Board hearing of beating U. A. W. organizers at the Ford plant last May. Said he: “We never made an agreement with the U. A. W. and we never will.”