Black, Bright and Red

Through the great bank of labor storm clouds over the U.S. last week appeared signs of sunlight. But first the thunderheads grew blacker. Near Milwaukee, at Allis-Chalmers, were riots and disorder. Failure of mine operators and workers to agree on a new contract shut down most of the country's soft-coal mines, resulted in death to five men in bloody Harlan County, Ky. Negotiations between C.I.O. and U.S. Steel reached an impasse and union leaders set the date for a walkout. The far-reaching Ford strike (see p. 21) made things seem even worse.

But at week's end came a break in the clouds. From Washington came the report that the President's Mediation Board had scored its fifth success in as many tries: cracked the Allis-Chalmers dispute. The skies brightened.

For 75 days Allis-Chalmers had been strikebound. Management's effort to reopen fortnight ago ended in tear-gas attacks, smashed windows, smashed cars, and the ignominious rout of Wisconsin's Governor Julius ("the Just") Heil, who failed as a mediator. The agreement engineered by the Mediation Board provided for a referee with absolute powers to thresh out management-labor relations, protect "union security," nub of the long dispute.

Next day from Pittsburgh came word that U.S. Steel and C.I.O. had decided to try again. Whatever agreement was reached was to be retroactive to April 1. Half-hour before the new truce was made known, Ernest T. Weir, head of National Steel (which has no C.I.O. contract), granted employes a wage increase of 10-c-an hour. A 10-c- increase was what C.I.O. was demanding from U.S. Steel.

Negotiators in the soft-coal tie-up still wrangled. Northern coal operators were ready to grant union demands for a $1-a-day increase in wages (to $7). Southern operators, who have long enjoyed a wage differential and were now being asked to boost wages from $5.60 to $7, were not so willing. But Conciliator John R. Steelman was still brightly confident of an early settlement.

These events did not end the danger of serious labor trouble, but they postponed and mitigated it. The Ford strike was still unsettled. C.I.O. electrical workers struck and closed the Bayway, N.J. plant of Phelps Dodge Copper Products Corp. over issues of a closed shop, vacations, pay. Sixteen smaller defense plants were still struck.

Another, uglier shadow preyed on the U.S. mind: Communism in the labor movement. There were few clearly marked trails. Outside of Congressman Martin Dies, who blazed away every time a bush shook, few saw any definite mark to aim at. But the Communists were like skunks: no one had to see them to know that they were there. Many a Congressman got a whiff. Democratic Leader McCormack announced before the Allis-Chalmers settlement: "We know that the Communists are in there working in Milwaukee." To OPM's angry William Knudsen, the important part of the Allis-Chalmers strike (in which he said 4,000,000 hours of time were lost) was "that the radical leaders with the help of other unions in Milwaukee and vicinity could show the State and the nation where to get off." The President got a whiff too, admitted that he had had reports of Communist activity.

How widespread was the Communist taint? Ford's Harry Bennett charged that C.I.O.'s United Auto Workers were Communist-controlled. Mr. Bennett was exaggerating. A Red faction exists in the U.A.W. rank & file, but the union's top officials are definitely antiCommunist. In aircraft, which U.A.W. is also trying to organize, Communists have crept a little higher. U.A.W. President Roland Jay Thomas has ordered the union's new chief aircraft organizer, Richard Frankensteen, to clean the Communists out.

John Lewis' United Mine Workers long ago condemned Communism, despite pinkos and fellow travelers with whom Lewis once surrounded himself, some of whom still cling limpetlike to his coattails. More alarming is the strong position of Communism in the National Maritime Union, the Transport Workers Union, and the American Communications Association-- key spots in any national emergency.

Chief danger of Communism was the damage its agents could do--and have undoubtedly done--in fanning flames, inciting to riot, disrupting negotiations. The U.S. got a sample of the possibilities open to saboteurs when a civilian inspector in the Bendix Aviation Corp. plant in New Jersey went berserk, destroyed thousands of dollars worth of intricate instruments before he was subdued and hauled off to a psychopathic ward.

This week the House Military Affairs Committee settled down to an investigation of the whole defense effort, promised to look hard for the Communist in the defense-pile. From the President came a warning: reports of Communist activities should not be used to smear labor. But the nation, growing anxious about its defense plants, was more concerned about agents of foreign powers smearing the U.S.

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