Hell on Earth… Alex

Bulletin of the Kate Sharpley Library 02:2000 No21 $1/50p Hell on Earth… Alex. Berkman’s first speech after his release from Alexanderjail Berkman was released from prison on May Sheriff, “he can speak half a dozen languages”. Then 18, and went direct to Detroit, Mich., where he the officer of the workhouse came up to me and said; delivered the following address on May 22: “young man, let me tell you something: we only speak I suppose you have heard the story about the one language here, and damn little at that.” Under such little boy who was asked one day by his mother circumstances you will understand that I am somewhat whether he had said his morning prayer, and little out of practice: in fact, I have almost forgotten how to Johnny replied that he had, and then asked: “Mother, talk at all. And, therefore, I am not going to make a why is it my prayer is so long? Mary is such a big girl, so•called speech to you tonight, but I just want to talk and she has only got a little prayer”. His mother said, to you a little. “why, Johnny, how’s that?” and then the little boy told First of all, I want to tell you how glad I am to her that when Mary was called in the morning she be again in your midst. And you, my friends, are prayed like this: “Oh, Lord. I hate to get up.” That’s evidently pleased to see me, but, great as your pleasure how I felt when my name was called. Not that I am not may be, mine far exceeds yours. And I think I may say glad to be with you again, my friends: far from it. But, that I have been a good deal more anxious to see you you see, I am a little out of practice, so to speak. I am than you were to see me; indeed, I have tried pretty of a naturally “retiring” disposition, and I have passed hard on several occasions to come to you, but I have so many years in solitude that now I don’t feel quite not heard of any of you trying to get into the place comfortable in the limelight. Besides, I suppose you where I was; tho, I must admit, that I don’t blame you know that I haven’t done very much speaking of any in the least for not trying to break into hell. kind during that time, either public or private. Some of Speaking of hell reminds me of an incident that you, tho, may not realise the absolute silence of the happened to me on the morning of my release. I left the prisoner’s life. I will illustrate this point, for the benefit workhouse on the 18th of May, and when I reached the of those among you whose education along prison lines Pennsylvania railroad station a newsboy handed me a has not been as liberal as my own. paper. I took it, and as I glanced over it, a big headline About a year ago, after having served thirteen in large black letters attracted my attention. The years in the state prison of Western Pennsylvania, I headline read: “To Hell and Back”. Well, to say that I was transferred to the County prison to serve the last was surprised is putting it mildly: why, I was year of my sentence. I suppose the judge who sentenced dumbfounded. You see, some years ago , when my me wanted me to visit all the prisons of the state, that friend Carl Nold was keeping me company in the my prison studies might be complete: or maybe he Western penitentiary, we conceived the idea of writing hoped that I’d never live to see the workhouse • but a book of our prison experiences. The greater part of that’s another story. When the Sheriff brought me the book was written in prison, and we were just down to the workhouse the officer in charge took my waiting for my release to begin the publication of the pedigree, and then he asked me what my occupation book. The title of the book was to be “To Hell and was. I was about to tell him that I had been working Back”. Now, you will understand my surprise when I thirteen years steady for the same firm, but the Sheriff saw that headline in the paper. I wondered how it did not give me a chance to speak. He told the leaked out, for it was known only to Nold and myself. workhouse officer that I was a linguist. I suppose the But I was soon enlightened. Perusing the article in the sheriff had been absorbing all the nonsense that the paper, I found that to Hell and Back did not refer to Pittsburgh papers published about me at that time. The our book at all, Officer said “a linguist? What’s that?” “Oh” said the continues over BERKMAN’S RELEASE SPEECH continued from front prison. And what is a prison? A prison is the model on it proved to be a sermon by a Protestant minister of the lines of which civilised society is built. Indeed, Pittsburg, a certain Rev. Russell. Now, I don’t know what is this so•called civilised society of ours but a where and how the reverend managed to steal the title large prison, a capitalistic hell as wide as the world. of our unpublished book, but I do know that his title The same tyranny and oppression, the same injustice was not at all appropriate to his subject. In that and persecution, hold sway in this large prison as in sermon the preacher tries to prove that there is no hell. the smaller one, only on a larger scale. As is that little Well, if there is no hell, then how did he go to hell and prison, so is the world filled with the cries and groans back, as the title of his sermon would lead one to of the unfortunates whom the devils of the law•god are believe. And if there is a hell, and he went there, why, raking into the fires of this capitalistic hell: innocent I am quite sure, the preacher would have never come victims are slaughtered by the thousands to satisfy the back. But Pastor Russell did not take the trouble to greed of the rapacious beast of capital: the blood of investigate the matter on the spot; he is trying to prove the widows and orphans is mercilessly pressed into the that there is no hell by • why, by the Bible, of course. wine for the rich man’s drink, and the wailing of Now, you know, the Bible is a peculiar book; you can starving babes is heard in the swish of the silk dress prove almost anything by it. Not long ago I met an old worn by the millionaire's wife. It is the hell of a man • he was a preacher before he put on the stripes • civilisation where the masses must starve because and he tried to convince me that we were approaching there is too much food on hand, where they must go the end of the world. I asked him why he thought so. naked because there is too much clothing produced, Then he proved to me • by the Bible • that it had been where they must be homeless because there have been predicted that the world would be filled with oil in too many houses built, and where we must all remain preparation for the great conflagration which is to abject slaves for the greater glory of capitalistic consume the world. “And now” said my preacher in liberty. Even nearer is our society approaching the stripes, “you can see the truth of the biblical perfection of its model• the prison of iron bars and prediction, for John the Babtist Rockefeller has stone walls. Liberty has become a hollow mockery: saturated the world with Standard Oil and Lawson is justice is but the sport of the counting room, and right applying the match. Behold the prophesy coming is laughed to scorn by might. The hand of tyranny is home”! I pointed out to the old fellow that Lawson, at the throat of our very manhood, and the heel of instead of dipping the matches in sulphur, has merely oppression is crushing the last spark of man’s native coated them with Amalgamated Copper and so they courage and independence. The curse of capitalism are water soaked and won’t burn. But the preacher has entered the very vitals of our social body, and its wouldn’t have it that way. Like most preachers he fatal breath has spread over the wide world, needed a ladder to see the point of a joke. contaminating with its foulness everything it touches. But to return to Rev. Russell. When I read his It has corrupted every member of our social body, so claim that there is no hell, I really felt sorry for him. that today there is not a single institution in our Why, what would become of religion, of the Christian society • not one single institution • that is not rotten religion especially, if there were no hell, or, at least, from top to bottom, rotten to its very core. the belief and fear of hell? Religion without a hell But what is the cause of all this? Why is our would be like playing the Merchant of Venice with society so rotten? Why is our civilisation such a Shylock left out.

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