‘Gate Two THE PEOPLE’S ADVOCATE ’ - The People’s Advocate Published Weekly by the ee FROLETARIAN PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION Gen eee West Hastings Street, Vancouver, B.G. - Phone, Trin. 2019 Lets Vasey 3s 25 Bye SS SS Ses $1.00 PIDPISWCOUV eee ieee -05 Make All Cheques Payable to: The People’s Advocate a Vancouver, B.C., Friday, Januar y14, 1938 : At the Communist Convention THIS weekend in Vancouver scores of delegates will attend the British Columbia convention of the Communist Party of Canada. They will be representative of hundreds of men and women throughout this province who have seen through and beyond the doubt and confusion of our times, who know the Communist party to be the tireless champion of unity against those forces which threaten the destruction of our hard-won demo- cratic rights and liberties. While never losing sight of their socialist goal, they recognize in fascism the immediate menace to progress which, if not checked, will plunge the world into a new darkness wherein truth and lib- erty will lansuish in chains. They know that the only effective answer to the challenge of fascism is the forging of a mighty united movement of all 4 progressive forces and to this urgent task all their eS efforts have been and must continue to be bent. In Quebec, where the Duplessis sovernment is flagrantly violating civil rights, fascism is already revealing itself. The millionaires, who control Canada’s wealth, are dancing to its tune. And Duplessis, in his turn, is dancing to their tune as they conspire to block unempleyment insurance and sabotage all progressive legislation of the fed- eral sovernment. In our own province of BC, the Pattullo govern- ment has swung to the right under pressure from Bis Business. Reaction has gained both in the \ election of the Tories to official Opposition in the provincial House and in the return of Non-Partisan Association candidates to Vancouver City Council. With all progressive forces in BC united, this could not have happened. Achievement of such unity between the Communist party, the CCF, the trade unions and all other progressive groups will be the immediate aim of the convention, while there is yet time —— in order that “it won’t happen : here.’ Qn the snow-swept battlefronts of Teruel and Aragon 200 British Columbians, many of them . Communists, are defending the democratic front against fascism. And the convention, inspired by their sacrifices, will strive the harder for the at- tainment of that unity without which the ideals fer which they are fighting are increasingly en- dangered. We Visit Aunt Matilda : E WENT to see Aunt Matilda one day this week. Yo tell the truth, we hhadn’t seen the old girl for a long time, and the tone of some of her recent editorials made us fear for her reason. We found her in her office - reading how the boys on the News-Herald, with the as- sistance of the fascists, had recaptured Teruel for the | fourth time in one week, thus duplicating their remarkable capture of Madrid a year ago. As we entered she peered at us over the top of her lasses, for her sight, at no fime good, is failing rapidly. From the secluded dignity of her office she can look out over Victory Square. She can see men sitting listlessly in _ the pale winter sunshine be- cause the system she upholds affords them nothing better to do. But Aunt Matilda sees none of these things. A yast red mist obscures : her vision. If you sympathize with her, she will tell you of the devilish plot devised by Moscow to rob her of her. ——— history are naturally taught from a socialist viewpoint, and since socialism is a high- er plane of social develop- ment than capitalism, their political level must be higher than our own.” When Aunt Matilda be- came coherent again we asked her what she thought. For answer she picked up her own editorial on the sub- ject. “In Soviet Russia,” she read, “with an immense fals- ification of history justi- fied in the Bolshevik code in the sacred name of propa- ganda—they are still repre- senting the capitalist world as immensely below their Own achievement in social welfare.’ “You wouldn’t, of course, remember publishing this some time ago,” we said, and quoted the following: “The practice of medicine in the Soviet Union is com- pletely socialized. Health is a major concern of the state, disassociated from private eae gain and charity. . The ‘sight. It has become an ob- jt ‘health and curative session with her and, as a result, she is becoming in- Se creasingly vicious. = Like the Trotskyists whose articles she has taken to pub- lishing, she will stoop to any slander. Our face was clean shaven, our attire impeccable. To these things we must attrib- ute Aunt Matilda’s immedi- ate failure to recognize us. Picking up the inevitable back copy of the Times, Aunt Matilda read us a paragraph from a Moscow dispatch: “A+ school the children (in Ganada) do not learn social science and the history of the class struggle as our children do in the USSR. Their poli- tical development is on a much lower level than ours,” she read, and sniffed audibly. “Well,” we asked, “what's wrong with that. In a social- SRG eo ee eT Srience and... State on tne w. at ne me measures the country offers are available to all... At the same time incessant propa- ganda... urges upon the peo- ple their duty as individuals and as citizens in taking full advantage of the means of maintaining health.” We folded the paper and continued, “Then there’s the new constitution, the free- dom guaranteed to men and women alike, the right to work, to paid yacations, to education. . .” But Aunt Matilda was no longer listening. Red in the face, she pointed a quivering finger at us. “Get out!” she shrilled — and to make sure, escorted us to the door herself. Thinking it over, this last courtesy must have been due to her fear we might organize her 7 out age ee Just Nothing T WAS spring along the coast of British Columbia. The Indians were camped again on the beach and com- ing in twos and threes to the general store for fishing gear. “Well, George, how did you make out during the winter?’ Mr. Moore asked his customer ‘as he measured a nickel’s worth of line and a dime’s worth of hooks. The Indian slowly shook his head. “Bad. Not much to eat. We do not get much money this time. Io more ten dollars a month, Wow two dollars a month.” Mr. Moore frowned. “Do you mean to say your pensions were cut down last winter with prices going up as they are?” George shrugged, spread his hands helplessly. “Old Charlie died. The women and kids sick all the time. Hard winter for all of us”? He grinned suddenly. “Spring here now. Maybe good year for fish!” Mr. Moore was silent for a moment and then he burst out: “But how about next winter?” Will they raise the pension again?” George looked doubtful. “IT don’t think so. Big chief across the water have much trouble with his brother. Brother very bad, won’t help to look after peo- ple and money scarce.” 2 Mr. Moore almost dropped a bunch of hooks. His mouth fell open. “I guess you mean the king and the abdication. Is that the line they gave you poor devils so that they could cut down your pensions?” George drew himself up as well as he could with his humped shoulders. “No lie,” he denied fiercely. ‘‘Big chief needs money to build big airport on the coast to protect us from the enemy.” He coughed suddenly, a hard racking cough, then continued, ‘We must help big chief all we can. The other tribes ... and big chief's enemies very bad. They would come and take our land and shoot our women and kids!” Mr. Moore wrapped the line and hooks deftly in paper and handed them silently across the counter.- George hesitated, fumbled in his pockets, looked up beseech- ingly. “You wait until I catch a fish? I pay you maybe tomor- Bhd | Mr. Moore grunted and nod- . ded. The Indian left the store. O e IED alongside the wharf was a battered canoe. George stepped lightly into the centre, spread his legs and pulled neatly on the oars. : He glanced swiftly at the dark- ening clouds and felt a moment of despair that it should rain be- fore evening and spoil his chance to cateh a fish for the evening meal. But it was good that the long winter was over. There was to be a new baby soon and per- haps it would live if the weather was not so cold. An Indian passed him, turned swiftly and drew up alongside. “TJ have just come from the Bay,” he said. “There is to be a great festival to celebrate the new king’s coming into power. We are to celebrate and honor him by parading through the town in the old dress, chanting the old songs.” “Who told you this news, Charlie?” George asked eagerly. “My girl Mary. She is still in the mission school, you know, put she will come home to stay soon after the celebration. We must help the others finish the totem-pole so it will be ready in time to send across the water to the great chief.” “Ves, yes,’ George agreed ab- sently. “I would go into the Bay tomorrow to do my part but I must pay for my line~and these hooks first. Did you say your girl Mary was coming home to stay after the celebration?” Young Charlie nodded. “Yes, put she will not marry me. She will not be happy even in her oe by Ailsa Devon The author of this story is the wife of a fisherman who has lived most of her life in a Vancouver Island fishing port. She knows the conditions under which the Indians live intimately. father’s home. And she will not try to work in the cannery. George looked surprised. “She does not want to work at all? But she was so clever in school. She made good marks.” “No, it is that she wants to work for the white people in their stores or in their houses. Then someone told her they do not hire Indians because all In- dians steal and do not pay their debts. . .” “JT am 4sorry for the girl,” George interrupted quickly. “She will have to change again when she comes back to her people. She will find it hard to’ fit into their ways.” , “J would make her a nice shack if she would marry me. I would eyen make her a window if she would say she would lke one. But I fear she would only laugh and tell me about the many windows in the fine school.” George laughed, dipped an oar into the water and shoved along. “T cannot stop to hear your love troubles, my friend. IT must catch a fish or I will have love trouble of my own.” Young Charlie laughed as he waved goodbye and called back, “J will go to Mr. Moore, then. He always makes kind talk.” “ee . UT “kind talk” was not all Charlie needed, Mr. Moore soon decided after hearing his troubles. “I cannot understand why she prefers to stay at home and work for that mob of a family to getting out and work- ing for herself or marrying,” Mr. Moore said at last, “But I tell you, Charlie, send her in to see me when she comes down. She may tell me what is on her mind and then I can put in a good word for you.” “J will,’ Charlie promised. “T’ll bring her in when she comes home.” Mary came a week later, sul- len, unhappy, making her pur- chases quickly and turning to go. Mr. Moore called to her, “Come here a minute, Mary. I’ve known you ever since you were big enough to swipe candy behind the counter without my seeing you, and even though...” “So. You are another who thinks the Indians are thieves!” she exclaimed angrily, facing him with defiance. He shook his head emphatical- ly, his voice was very serious. ‘No, I do not think the Indians steal, Mary. I have never known them to steal from me. But of course there are bad Indians as well as bad white men. . .” “Tt is the white men who are the thieves. Did they not steal the land away from us in the be- ginning?” “No, Mary, they fought for it,” Mr. Moore denied. The girl tossed her dark head. He heard a sob as she ran. “Come back,’ he called, “Don’t get your hair in a knot. Come back and fight it out with me. What is the trouble, youngster?” Mary sat down on a pile of rope. She did not look at him but at the pots and pans dangling from the ceiling and the gro- ceries and merchandise piled to- gether along the shelves. “You are an untidy store-keeper,” she said abruptly. Mr. Moore laughed and nod- ded. “I sure am.” She turned to him all eager and pleading. “Let me work in your store, Mr. Moore. Please. I will ask very little pay.” Mr. Moore was sincerely sorry. “T can’t, Mary. Honestly. The taxes on this place are so high I scarcely make my own living and my family’s. And I am al ways in debt. It may be hard for you to see that, but. - .” ‘Tvs alright. I understand. If just thought I would ask,” she said slowly, her eyes on the fioor now. “Mary, why don’t you snap out of it, make the best of things, get married and have a few babies. . .” e HE wouldn’t wait for him to finish, to mention young Charlie. She was on her feet, facing him with frightened eyes. “Wever, never! It would be wicked to bring another such un- happy child as I into this world. I will go now.” She turned swiftly and the door closed sharply behind her. “Hey, wait a minute!” Mr. Moore was around the counter and out to the front. “Hey, Mary!” = She turned back, her shoulders drooping pathetically, her eyes dark and filled with sullen fire. “IT have said enough.” He put a hand gently on her arm. “Come inside again, Mary, and tell me what your trouble is. I am sure it will help just to get it off your mind.” She hesitated, forced a smile. “Alright, Mr. Moore. You can tidy the shelves as I talk so that I won't waste your time.” Mr. Moore began to bang the tinned fruit around. “To begin with,” he suggested, “What is wrong with home. Don’t you like to cook and sew and keep house?” “What do you know of my home that you should speak of eooking and sewing? And have you ever tried to keep house in a one roomed shack with a dirt floor fiilled with hungry chil- dren? Yes, hungry! Do you know how often we have a treat of a loaf of bread? Once a week if the fish have been plentiful so that we have the money to buy. And we must catch these fish with our canoes and old leaking gas boats and any kind of gear we can get. It is hard to be matching one’s wits and strength against the white man’s bigger boats and splendid outfits.” “Say, hold on here,” Mr. Moore said sternly, “You shouldn’t be worrying about things like that. What started you out like this, anyway ?” “Coming home to find things so utterly hopeless!” the girl cried. “T finished school and came back toe my people. I promised myself T would make them proud of me... teach them to cook and clean and live as I had been taught people should live.” She spread her fingers and looked at them helplessly. “I am young and strong and willing, but I soon saw that my people were not dirty and lazy as I thought but only without choice. They suffer very much from hunger and ex- posure. Mostly from loss of hope. And yet they think the great chief across the water is great and just. I am afraid to tell them what I think!” ‘What do you think?” Moore asked solemnly. ) Nes voice raised defiantly. “JT believe the great white chief does not even know we live and does not care to know. And if he does know about us I be- lieve he thinks we are dirty and lazy and not worth the trouble he is taking to care-for us. Per- haps he only hopes we will all die and then he can have the pit of land we have and the bit of money he sends us.” “But Mary,’ Mr. Moore pro- tested, “Hie had the government puild a splendid school and made it possible for you Indians to read and write and learn to do Mr. things differently.” “Yes,” Mary said bitterly, “That is just it! I was taken into the school when I was a mere child. I was taught music and culture. There were polished floors, clean beds, good food. Now I am weil educated. I come home. There is a wooden shack with a dirt floor. Our beds are blankets spread across boughs and more than one sleeping in the same room. The rain comes in .through the roof. We shiver all through the night because we are cold. Then morn- ing comes at last and we eat. There are sea-eggs, clams and dried fish. And bread and tea if we are lucky. Of course, we don’t have to pay a hunting license, but guns cost Money and so do shells. Would it not be laughable to see us Stalking a deer with a bow and arrow and a white man shooting the same deer in a few minutes with his rifie?” é My father had a good boat and then the war came. An Indian is a ward of the government and cannot be conscripted. Soe to get them a law was passed that pot- latches were illegal.” She laughed shortly. “If any Indian heard of the law he never told any one because at a big pot-latch they were all seized and given the choice of going to war or to jail for five years. My father went to jail because I was soon to be born and my mother was young and helpless and afraid to have him go so far away. I know you think that does not sound like an Indian but then you have never been alone in a land where you know nothing of their laws and their wars and if you do you can’t understand them.” “T am not so sure about that, Mary. IT am mighty baffled myself about the laws and wars and often about the taxes,” Mr. Moore replied grimly. She looked at him for a mo- ment, puzzled, then went on: “Well you can guess the rest. When father was released he came back to nothing and his health was gone. Still he worked hard. He has always worked hard ... but he has nothing to work with. And here I am with all my new ideas coming home to complain. . .” she finished. @ HY don’t you go and work in the cannery, then?” Mr. Moore asked, trying to look careless as he wrapped up a bundle of bread and meat and a package of cookies for her. “T can’t leave my mother now. She is not old but she is crippled with rheumatism. And there are four younger children to care for. The cannery is only open three months of the year, even then. Have you ever tried to live on two dollars a month?” Mr. Moore shook his head. “God, no.” He looked at Mary in sympathy. “Here _is some old stuff I gathered while I was cleaning up. So you think the kids would like it? Some cookies there, too” He handed her the package and turned quickly as his wife came in. “Hello, dear, do you remember Mary?” 3 Mrs. Moore smiled. “Why, yes, she is the little girl who used to eome here with her father so long ago. I hear you have finished school, Mary.” “Yes, I have finished,” said wanly. “Well, that’s nice,’ Mrs. Moore went on, “And what are you £0- ing to do now, my dear?” Mary walked to the door. ‘“Wothing,” she said quietly and was gone. The store-keeper’s wife looked at her husband and sniffed. ‘Humph! The government spends hundreds of dollars every year educating/those Indians and what do they do when they are fin- ished? Nothing!” Mr. Moore seized a knife and cut savagely into a piece of cheese. “What did you say?” Moore asked sharply. “Just nothing, my dear,” he replied slowly, “Just nothing!” Mary Mrs. By Victoria Pest NW AWN attempt to confuse people on the real issue be- hind the boycott against Japan- ese goods, hosiery manufacturers are putting forward the idea that it will lower working conditions. Machines now turning out silk can quite easily be adapted to rayon and lisle pro- duction. Whereas before the boycott there were only five com- panies in the US producing lisle stockings, today there are fifty- five. Manufacturers must be made to realize that boycotters do not want a lower style stan- dard, but rather an improve- ment. There is ample room for improvement in the quality and style of lisle stockings. Demand for lace and mesh stockings will actually provide extra pay for workers as it is the novelties and stockings extra features in stocking manu- facture that increases the earn- ings of the operator. If the stocking mills will meet the demand for lisle and rayon, they will prevent a shift to im- ported hose which is sure to happen if the consumers can't zet what they want. Several or- ganized mills in the United States, Romila, McCallum, Phoenix and Strutwear, are now offering fine full fashioned lisle hose and ex- periments are being carried on by rayon manufacturers to in- crease the elasticity of their yarn. This lack of elasticity is the only objection to rayon at the moment. Tf you want to be in the very latest style you must wear cot- ton hosiery in Chinese colors. One of the leading New York style shops features these, and sports- wear emphasizing Chinese motifs and colors. Highlights at a fashion show in the Waldorf As- toria in December were styles in Chinese red and Chinese green, and the introduction of cotton petticoats and _ slips. There’s plenty of scope for imagination in this trend towards Chinese styles, and if it weren’t winter I’m sure we'd see Many women in creations of Ghinese red and green complete with three-quarter length trouserst ee Stage and Screen By John Chaplin OLLYWOOD—\ First big ‘news break” of the New Year was, ef course, the dramatic bomb- shell of Jimmy Cagney’s recon- ciliation with the Warner Brothers studio. The actor and the studio prevailed upon the state supreme court to invalidate the judgment Cagney had won against Warners and the injunc- tion against their interfering with his working elsewhere. Everything is now peaceful, with a new contract being signed, pre- sumably giving Cagney most of the concessions that he went to court about. His first film for Warners, in March, as first ex- clusively reported in this column, will probably be Boy Meets Girl. in the interim, he will make Angels with Dirty Faces, as his last for Grand National... The fact that Paramount is distribut- ing the government-made The River is also worthy of comment. The film industry could not keep its eyes shut to the fact that Pare Lorentz had produced for the Roosevelt administration a film which challenged the best Hollywood had ever achieved. . - Technical supremacy of Holly- wood methods, however, is once again proved by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, a feat of pre- eision which no studios outside Hollywood could haye duplicated. The picture is one not to be missed. And its potentialities as a lasting hit were best put by Groucho Marx, who said after the preview: “They can do it all with dummies and drawings now. It’s unfair to organized actors. Tm taking out an annuity. . .” Gentral Labor Council here has cleared Wallace Beery of the charges of erossing culinary workers’ picket lines at the Brown Derby. So there will be no national boycott of him. But he must still pay a $250 fine as- sessed against him by the Screen Actors Guild before his applica- tion for membership in that or- ganization can be considered. The guild, incidentally, now boasts practically 100 per cent member- ship. among the stars. Greta Garbo, whose well-known aloof- ness was taken to mean she would join nothing, has been re- vealed as a long-time member. One news item concerns forma- tion of a company called Radio Gity, Ltd., to establish a Radio Gity in London similar to the Rockefeller project in New York. The powers-behind-it, including, it is reported, Lord Horder, are setting aside $10,000,000 to put this across. Riel G&steDs?. tale. as ee COD By OL’ BILL Ever since the Was Marx death of Marx, col= Wrong? lege professors, Apologists of capi- talism of the type that wins Hart, Schaffner & Marx prizes, have been dinning into our ears their paid-for conclusions, that slowly but surely, Marxism was disinte- erating, The dictum of Marx, that the concentration of many small cap- tains into few large capitals was to bring about a constantly dimin- ishing number of magnates of capital, was declared to be ‘hay- wire’ (in professorial language). To them it was a fallacy that the small capitalist was doomed to disappear, afd that the means of production was becoming monop- olized, was simply not true- We were confronted with arrays, hosts, masses, of figures, to prove that instead of becoming Mmonop- olized, ownership of capital was being distributed, dissipated in fact, among ever-widening sections of society. Contrary to Marx's analysis, these “cultured” political economy thimble-riggers would have us believe that almost the entire working class had become capitalists. A good example of the basis of their arguments is provided by our local “public utility” plunderbund, the BCBlectric. This nickelsqueez- ing group of “public spirits” claim to have 19,000 shareholders to eat up the annual dividend melon. About 18,750 of these belong in the $50 class who get the price of a pair of silk stockings or a bottle of bootleg gin (this is not inserted by the liquor control board or the BC government) twice a year, as their share of the dividend. They have no say in’ determining the policies of the company, although the legal fiction still prevails that their $50 is as good as anybody else's when it comes to voting. Where they do function is in pro- viding 18,750 pluggers in muni- cipal and provincial elections to boost BCBElectric stooges anto stratesic positions for handing out franchises and other silt-edge priv- jlezges to their company. The BCElectric is only one concern but it is typical of the whole system. rf r =A It is no surprise to The Best us, then, to learn Families! that 60 families con- trol] one-quarter of the US, control that gives them a dominating position in the opera- tion. of the other three-quarters. We learn this, not from some Marxian bookworm, but from the leaders of the New Deal forces, St. George Roosevelt, president of the US, Perseus Ickes, secretary of the interior and Sir Galahad Jackson, assistant-attorney-gen- eral who are now engaged in a2 crusade to destroy the gorgon- dragon of monopoly and save the eapitalist Andromeda from the horrors of revolution. The statement of Ickes, “The power of concentrated wealth must be compelled to conferm to our laws,” is an unanswerable denial of the specious and delusive writings of the economic pundits and a 100 per cent endorsement of Marx. Sixty families out of 120 million people! Who are the 60 families? Here are a few of them; Morgan, Rocke— feller, Drexel, Teagle, Mellon, Mills, Dupont, Ford, Guggenheim, Duke, Weyerhaeuser, Vanderbilt, Harriman, Sloan) Kuhn, Loeb, Rand, Manville, Spreckles, Schwab, Woolworth. Morgans, for instance, in 1932, owned or controlled 282 banking, industrial, utility and other ex- ploiting concerns including over 50 banks, 10 per cent of the American railroads and 55 per cent of other public utilities. Seventy-seven bil- lion six hundred million doliars—a quarter of the corporate wealth of the United States—was juggled by this family. It is the same in BC. It is less than a year since the minister of finance, John Hart, informed us that 125,988 people in the province had paid income-tax on incomes of $2,500, or less; 848 paid taxes on . incomes of $10,000 and over And the significant part of his state- ment was that the 348 paid more than the 125,988—and there were thousands who paid no income tax at all. t wv cf If there is one sec- tion of the people of this country that needs a voice of its Own more than any other, it is the progressive youth, those young Ca- nadians to whom the future be- longs, in spite of the frothings of Adrien Arcand and his fascist dupes. : That voice is found in the “New Advance,” published with the aim of bettering the life of Canadian youth. it is fully representative of the ideas and makes plain the objectives of the Canadian Youth Congress, all these things that are _ best in Canadian life today. it is a good magazine and to paraphrase Coue, “It gets. better and better every day’ It should be in the hands of every youngster in the country. But that takes money and that is where I come in. BC youth have undertaken to raise $200 during this month and that should be easy with a little help. If you take my word for the Quality of the magazine and can- offer any financial or other as— sistance get in touch with Jack Phillips, Room 53, 163 W. Hastings street. z ee “New Advance”