Read Online Sal Si Puedes (Escape If You Can): Cesar Chavez and the New American Revolution by Peter Matthiessen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter Matthiessen
Ads: Link
union; hearing this, Chavez merely
nodded. Since 1891, papal encyclicals have affirmed the
workers’ right to organize—Pope John XXIII had even
spoken of their right to strike—but in Chavez’s opinion
Catholic help has too often taken the form of food baskets
for the needy rather than programs that might encourage
independence: a union and a decent wage would enable the
worker to escape from demeaning and demoralizing dependence
on welfare and charity. Although individuals in
the clergy around the country had lent sympathy to the
farm workers very early, and many outside church groups,
particularly the Migrant Ministry, had long ago come to his
support, with personnel as well as money, the clergy, Catholic
as well as Protestant, had denounced the grape strike or
dodged the issue for fear of offending the growers, most of
whom are Catholics of Italian or Yugoslav origin and contribute
heavily to the Church. In fact, when Chavez’s organization,
the National Farm Workers Association, began the
strike in 1965, the growers were able to pressure the Church
into forbidding NFWA to use the parish hall of Our Lady of
Guadalupe. (“I find it frankly quite embarrassing,” Father
Day has said, “to see liberals and agnostics fighting vehemently
for social justice among agricultural workers while
Catholic priests sit by and sell them religious trinkets.”)
Though more and more embarrassed by the example of
outside clergy of all faiths, many of whom had marched
in the Union picket lines, it was only recently that the
Delano clergy abandoned its passive stance and joined in
attempts to reconcile the growers to the Union. Now Father
Day spoke of the large Zaninovich clan, some of whom
came to mass here at Our Lady of Guadalupe. “If they
would just get together with their workers,” he said, “we
wouldn’t have any problems.”
Chavez looked doubtful, but he nodded politely. “Yes,”
he said after a moment, “this church is really coming to
life.” With Chavez, it is sometimes hard to tell when he is
joking and when he is serious, because he is so often both
at the same time.
More people greeted him, “¿Va bien?” “¡Está bien!” Most
of the people are jocular with Chavez, who has a warm,
humorous smile that makes them laugh, but after the joking,
a few stood apart and stared at him with honest joy.
A worker in a soiled white shirt with a fighting cock in
bright colors on the pocket stood waiting for a hearing.
Though Chavez is available to his people day and night,
it is on Sunday that they usually come to see him, and his
Sundays are all devoted to this purpose. “. . . buscando trabajo ,”
I heard the worker say when he had Chavez’s ear:
he was looking for work. He had just come in from Mexico,
and the visa, or “green card,” that he carried in his pocket
is the symbol of the most serious obstacle that Chavez’s
strike effort must face: the century-old effort of California
farmers to depress wages and undercut resistance by pitting
one group of poor people against another.
By the 1860’s the local Indians used as near-slaves in
Spanish California had been decimated; they were largely
replaced, after the Gold Rush, by Chinese labor made
available by the completion of the Southern Pacific railroad.
But the thrifty Chinese were resented and persecuted
by the crowds of jobless whites for whom the Gold Rush
had not panned out, and also by small farmers, who could
not compete with the cheap labor force, and when their
immigration was ended by the Exclusion Act of 1882, the
big farmers hired other immigrants, notably Japanese. The
Japanese undercut all other labor, but soon they too were
bitterly resented for attempting to defend their interests.
Even worse, they were better farmers than the Americans,
and they bought and cultivated poor ground that nobody
else had bothered with; this impertinence was dealt with by
the Alien Land Law of 1913, which permitted simple confiscation
of their land. (The
nodded. Since 1891, papal encyclicals have affirmed the
workers’ right to organize—Pope John XXIII had even
spoken of their right to strike—but in Chavez’s opinion
Catholic help has too often taken the form of food baskets
for the needy rather than programs that might encourage
independence: a union and a decent wage would enable the
worker to escape from demeaning and demoralizing dependence
on welfare and charity. Although individuals in
the clergy around the country had lent sympathy to the
farm workers very early, and many outside church groups,
particularly the Migrant Ministry, had long ago come to his
support, with personnel as well as money, the clergy, Catholic
as well as Protestant, had denounced the grape strike or
dodged the issue for fear of offending the growers, most of
whom are Catholics of Italian or Yugoslav origin and contribute
heavily to the Church. In fact, when Chavez’s organization,
the National Farm Workers Association, began the
strike in 1965, the growers were able to pressure the Church
into forbidding NFWA to use the parish hall of Our Lady of
Guadalupe. (“I find it frankly quite embarrassing,” Father
Day has said, “to see liberals and agnostics fighting vehemently
for social justice among agricultural workers while
Catholic priests sit by and sell them religious trinkets.”)
Though more and more embarrassed by the example of
outside clergy of all faiths, many of whom had marched
in the Union picket lines, it was only recently that the
Delano clergy abandoned its passive stance and joined in
attempts to reconcile the growers to the Union. Now Father
Day spoke of the large Zaninovich clan, some of whom
came to mass here at Our Lady of Guadalupe. “If they
would just get together with their workers,” he said, “we
wouldn’t have any problems.”
Chavez looked doubtful, but he nodded politely. “Yes,”
he said after a moment, “this church is really coming to
life.” With Chavez, it is sometimes hard to tell when he is
joking and when he is serious, because he is so often both
at the same time.
More people greeted him, “¿Va bien?” “¡Está bien!” Most
of the people are jocular with Chavez, who has a warm,
humorous smile that makes them laugh, but after the joking,
a few stood apart and stared at him with honest joy.
A worker in a soiled white shirt with a fighting cock in
bright colors on the pocket stood waiting for a hearing.
Though Chavez is available to his people day and night,
it is on Sunday that they usually come to see him, and his
Sundays are all devoted to this purpose. “. . . buscando trabajo ,”
I heard the worker say when he had Chavez’s ear:
he was looking for work. He had just come in from Mexico,
and the visa, or “green card,” that he carried in his pocket
is the symbol of the most serious obstacle that Chavez’s
strike effort must face: the century-old effort of California
farmers to depress wages and undercut resistance by pitting
one group of poor people against another.
By the 1860’s the local Indians used as near-slaves in
Spanish California had been decimated; they were largely
replaced, after the Gold Rush, by Chinese labor made
available by the completion of the Southern Pacific railroad.
But the thrifty Chinese were resented and persecuted
by the crowds of jobless whites for whom the Gold Rush
had not panned out, and also by small farmers, who could
not compete with the cheap labor force, and when their
immigration was ended by the Exclusion Act of 1882, the
big farmers hired other immigrants, notably Japanese. The
Japanese undercut all other labor, but soon they too were
bitterly resented for attempting to defend their interests.
Even worse, they were better farmers than the Americans,
and they bought and cultivated poor ground that nobody
else had bothered with; this impertinence was dealt with by
the Alien Land Law of 1913, which permitted simple confiscation
of their land. (The
Similar Books
