Unrest

The discontent in Labor was widespread. It was audible in Miami, where A.F. of L.'s cautious chieftains gathered.* It could be seen in a dozen spots across the nation where flare-ups kept thousands from work. It could be felt in Pittsburgh, where 600,000 C.I.O. steelworkers prepared their deliberate campaign to scuttle the Little Steel formula. The nation still lacked a firm labor policy.

The Administration had wobbled its way through one crisis: the railroads. Away from the Army, back to industry went management of the roads, after 22 days of Government operation. The seven top rail executives who had donned Army colonels' uniforms took them off again, put them away in closets, to be taken out only for parades and grandchildren. For three weeks' active duty, they were entitled to about $360 in Army pay (besides their regular salaries). But most of them had spent $250 or more on well-tailored uniforms. The workers fared better. The 15 big non-operating unions (1,100,000 members) got 9-to 11-c--an-hour raises, though they had been willing to take 8-c-. Economic Stabilizer Fred Vinson had turned down 8-c- as inflationary; now he blandly approved an even higher pay boost. No one heard a murmur about inflation from Judge Vinson.

Follow the Leader. Once more, as in the coal crisis, the Administration had honored the letter of Little Steel, while doing violence to its spirit. Once more the Government had covered its retreat by seizing property and thus giving the appearance of decision. But the workers lost nothing by Government operation, and won their wage demands. Three thousand coal mines seized in November were still being operated by the U.S. Under the Smith-Connally Act, they were to be turned back to their owners within 60 days after "productive efficiency" had been reestablished. The mines were back to normal output within two weeks of their seizure. But since John L. Lewis' full demands have not yet been approved by the War Labor Board, Attorney General Biddle last week ruled that the U.S. can operate the mines indefinitely. Biddle's reasoning: Lewis might balk if the owners get their mines back before a contract is signed, therefore "productive efficiency" has not been established.

There was one hopeful note--of pledges kept--that got buried in the news of strikes, threats and Government maneuverings. Seventy-two Akron rubber workers staged an unauthorized strike. Their union (C.I.O.'s United Rubber Workers), ruling that the strikers had broken the union's agreement with the management, promptly revoked their memberships.

Admission of Bluff

A prime U.S. war agency admitted last week that it has neither the power nor the intention to enforce its orders. What's more, it made that admission in a Federal Court, smack in the middle of the District of Columbia. For two years the War Labor Board has bluntly told industry that a maintenance-of-union-membership clause is the logical reward due Labor for the no-strike pledge. But last week WLB filed a motion asking the Court to dismiss a request for an injunction against its enforcement of that key clause. The injunction was sought by the U.S. Gypsum Co., whose board chairman, Sewell Lee Avery (who also heads Montgomery Ward), has never been noted for his love of labor.

Last June, when WLB demanded that Gypsum show cause for refusing to comply with the Board's maintenance-of-membership directive (requiring all union members to remain members for the duration of the union contract, after a 15-day period for resignations), WLB spoke darkly of enforcing its order with all the war powers in the Commander in Chief's book --including seizure of plant, revocation of priorities, cancellation of war orders, etc. Gypsum challenged WLB, dragging out precedents from the Fifth ("due process") Amendment on down. Last week WLB asked that the whole case be dismissed, on the mild grounds that its initial directive was "advisory" and that it actually had no intention of enforcing it because it had no legal power to do so.

For the explanation of this change in WLB's tone, most observers did not look farther than to John L. Lewis' signal success in bypassing its jurisdiction. But the Court agreed with Gypsum, called WLB's about-face "fantastic" and "ridiculous," ruled that the case should go to trial. WLB does not have to go on fighting: it can do nothing for 20 days; the case will die, with Gypsum the winner.

In any event, WLB's attempt to back out of its impasse was a clear signal that compliance with its directives is anything but mandatory. The powers at issue in the Gypsum case were those which WLB possessed before passage of the Smith-Connally Act and the subsequent Presidential order giving WLB enforcement powers. Since that order WLB has been on firmer legal ground. But last week one Government man in a position to know the score declared: ". . . As a practical proposition right now compliance has broken down. It's a case of what the hell can the Government do--they come in and say 'Why didn't you do something about coal?' That goes on in every case now."

*Biggest news of the A.F. of L. meeting: unanimous rejection of the request by John L. Lewis' United Mine Workers (600,000 members) to "take us back as we are." The A.F. of L. was willing to take back the miners who left the A.F. of L. in 1936, but insisted on further haggling about the dairy farmers, chemical workers, et al. whom Lewis has collected in his catch-all District 50.

*Staff Sergeant Maynard ("Snuffy") Smith, being decorated with the Congressional Medal of Honor in England last July.

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