BUILDING A WINNING STRATEGY

In 1936, Reuben could not turn his back on the President. Under his leadership the ISFL endorsed a presidential candidate for the first time in its history, calling on “all liberty-loving citizens to aid in promoting the re-election of President Franklin D. Roosevelt.”[1] When the polls showed FDR losing the crucial battleground of Illinois, Soderstrom didn’t hesitate to answer the call for help. He hosted a Democratic-labor march in the campaign’s closing weeks that drew hundreds of thousands. There he gave a rousing speech calling on all of Illinois to rally around the President. Afterwards, the polls began to shift. In the end, Roosevelt won Illinois; Soderstrom lost his district.

Reuben knew the price of his actions. The endorsement and rally would win him a few Democratic votes but was sure to drive away Republicans. It was political suicide; it was also, he believed, the right thing to do. As he told the labor delegates assembled at LaSalle September following his loss:

I appeared with (Roosevelt) on the same platform in Chicago at a great Democratic rally prior to November 3, 1936; and because I shared the platform with the President of the United States the enemies of labor came into my district and persuaded wage-earners to cut their own throats by voting for someone other than the President of the Illinois State Federation of Labor for the office of State Representative. I was compelled to make a personal political sacrifice, but the cause won.

I wouldn’t want a single delegate in this convention to feel badly about my personal defeat. After all, campaigns are something like a baseball game. Candidates who advocate the same cause are like baseball players who play on the same team. The President of the United States was on third base; nobody wanted him to die on third. I was at bat—it was up to me to make a sacrifice hit. I bunted the ball; they put me out on base, but the President of the United States scored and he carried, not only the State of Illinois, but every other state in the country with the exception of two New England States.[2]

In LaSalle County, the Republicans’ drive for purity cost them one of their most secure seats. In April of 1936, the party leadership, bitter after their failure to unseat Soderstrom in the primary, made the unprecedented decision to field three candidates in the general election for the 39th District’s representatives. The choice ensured pro-labor Democrat Jeremiah Walsh became Reub’s successor, giving that party control of the District for the first time in a generation.

Now Reuben had to decide. Would he spend the next two years preparing a run to reclaim his seat? Given his deep support, legislative connections, and the longstanding voting trends within his district, Reuben had a very good chance of reclaiming his role should he dedicate the coming year to that cause. But it would also mean taking time away from his ISFL Presidency, as well as running against a pro-labor Democrat. It also meant likely succumbing to a political process that had become increasingly factionalized. As the special sessions of 1936 demonstrated, legislation in the House and Senate was increasingly falling victim to petty power struggles. Regional, reformist, and intra-party fighting had stymied the Assembly, so disgusting Speaker of the House John Devine that he decided to retire at the end of the session rather than face it another year. A good friend of Reuben’s, Devine encouraged him not to linger on the past but move forward. He saw in Soderstrom a man of both value and values, and advised him to maintain the former by keeping the latter.[3]

In the end, Reub decided not to run; but instead of walking away from the legislative process, he focused on it as never before, fully embracing his role as ISFL President. Reuben fully believed that the future of labor lay in the legislative process. “The status of labor in the United States, and thus also in Illinois, will undoubtedly be determined by legislation in the future to a greater degree than at any time during the past half century,” he wrote that year. “The trend in this respect is unmistakable. It is apparent on all sides.”[4]

Now released from the grunt work of introducing bills and whipping votes directly, Soderstrom could shape legislation behind the scenes, building and pushing a political agenda on and off the Assembly floor. No longer a statesman, he embraced the role of unabashed agitator, starting by marking 1937 as the year he would pass the last and perhaps most ambitious of his original aims: an 8-hour bill for women. To do that, however, Reub would need more than just increased focus or drive; he would need to build a whole new machine—an entirely new way of doing business.

LABOR’S LEGISLATIVE SUCCESS

Soderstrom Adopts New Team, New Tactics

First on Reub’s agenda was choosing his successor as labor’s voice in the house. Instead of picking a single leader, Reuben instead decided on a group of veteran legislators. They included Louis Lewis of Christopher, Frank Ryan and James Bole of Chicago, Hugh Cross of Jerseyville, William Lawler of Springfield, Robert H. Allison of Pekin, and Harry M. McCaskrin of Rock Island in the House and John Lee of Chicago and Richard Barr of Joliet in the Senate.[5] Composed of Republicans and Democrats, downstaters and Chicago boys, Soderstrom’s team had representatives from every party and faction.

Reuben’s team got an additional boost when one of their own, Louis Lewis, was put forward as a possible choice for House Speaker. Reuben wielded his considerable influence on Lewis’s behalf, openly campaigning for his selection. When Lewis succeeded after a late surge of support, the local press declared him “Labor’s Speaker” and credited Soderstrom as largely responsible for the win. Reuben did not try to hide his happiness, telling reporters that he was “tickled pink” over the House vote.[6]

As the 60th regular session of the Illinois legislature got under way, labor introduced its most ambitious agenda to date. Bills for a five-day week, unemployment insurance, and an 8-hour day for women were the largest pieces of a broad tapestry of initiatives brought by labor that also included changes in workman’s compensation and old-age pensions, the outlawing of industrial espionage, injunction reform, and prevailing wage for public works, to name a few. Of course, introducing legislation was fairly straightforward; guiding it through the legislature was the real test. Over the coming months Reuben would use a variety of tactics and forums—the press, personal persuasion, and his power over the rules of the legislature itself—to move his agenda through the divided legislature. Despite all odds, he would find a new way forward.

Wins Fair Hours for Women

Of all the Reuben’s struggles that year, none was more fraught than the battle for better working hours for women. This was, after all, the very legislation which Illinois labor’s greatest nemesis, the Illinois Manufacturers’ Association, had been created to oppose. For the last 44 years, the two organizations had danced the same jig; year after year the ISFL would sponsor legislation limiting the hours employers could require women to work to no more than eight per day, forty-eight per week. Year after year the IMA’s influential membership wrote to their legislators, threatening, pleading, and warning financial ruin if women could not work endless hours. Year after year they sent carefully selected and well-rehearsed female employees before the Assembly to plead for the chance to work ten hour days without end, while groups of professional and moneyed women like the Illinois Federation of Women’s Clubs objected that the proposed law was sexist and discriminatory.[7]

The Women’s Eight Hour Bill had originated within the women’s movement, specifically Florence Kelley and the female pioneers of Chicago’s Hull House. Its strongest and most dedicated supporters included women’s rights leaders and organizations like Agnes Nestor and the Women’s Trade Union League. Unlike their wealthier counterparts, these advocates for working women understood that the bill was an attempt to create gender equality, not undermine it. Labor contracts in most “male” industries provided men with the hours protections that female workers, faced with crippling discrimination and job insecurity, could not win through negotiation alone. “It is travesty in my mind,” said the bill’s sponsor Senator Ed Laughlin, “That men are permitted to work only eight hours and women ten hours.[8]” This was progressive legislation, and its absence was a stain on the state. Illinois was “considered a backward state in women’s legislation,” testified Illinois Director of Labor Martin Durkin. “Machines have speeded up work but Illinois legislation has never kept pace as far as women are concerned.”[9]

Over the decades the WTUL and ISFL had been able to slowly chip away at the IMA’s charade. In the past few sessions both houses had passed the bill, if not in the same session. Meanwhile, the IMA had turned its full attention to national legislation, giving Reuben even more opportunity to press his agenda. With IMA influence waning, success was so close Reub could taste it. This would be the year, he promised, that he would pass hours legislation.

The first challenge was the “committee graveyard,” where powerful opponents attempted to smother popular bills by refusing to release them for a vote. Reuben shattered that obstacle with ease, going to the press that March to publicly call on the House and Senate committee chairmen to release labor’s bills and allow an up or down vote.[10] When the chairmen meekly protested that there simply wasn’t enough time to properly review the legislation, Speaker Lewis responded by extending the House work week so the committees could meet their obligations.[11] Outmaneuvered, the chairmen sheepishly recommended Soderstrom’s bills for a full vote.

Next came the infamous “absentee challenge.” Under the Illinois constitution, it was not enough for legislation to win a majority vote—a majority of all Senators and Representatives had to vote in the affirmative for a bill to become law. That meant that most bills could be killed by a faction of legislators simply refusing to vote, reporting themselves as “absent.” This became a particular problem for Soderstrom in the Senate; as the Women’s 8-Hour Bill came up for a vote that April it became clear that although the “yeas” outnumbered the “nays” by 25 to 9, Reub was still one vote shy of a full majority of the Senate.[12] He raced up and down the halls, calling favors and pulling ears in the desperate hope that he could sway a single Senator off the sidelines, to no avail. The best Reuben could do was get the vote postponed by one week, giving him time to build a new voting block.

The following days were full of horse trading as Soderstrom and the IMA’s Donnelly jockeyed for votes. Reuben picked up some new votes – Carroll, Kean, Thomas, and Smith – but lost others – Beckman, Bensen, Ewing, and Heckenkamp – in equal measure. Even a personal appeal to Governor Horner to use his influence failed. By the time of the second vote, despite all his efforts and additions, Reuben had the exact same number of votes as he had the first time - still one frustratingly vote shy.

On the day of the vote, Reub made one last push. He stood outside the chamber hall, pulling aside Senators in a desperate, forceful appeal. One of those Senators was former House colleague T. Mac Downing. A first-term Republican from the agriculturally focused western portion of the state, Downing was a former attorney who had actually represented the Illinois Manufacturers before joining the legislature. Over the years the two had developed a mutual respect and genuine regard for one another, despite their political differences, and Reuben hoped that association would help him now in this most desperate hour. “I know you have no organized labor in your district,” Reub told Downing, “But we are fighting with our backs against the wall. If you can give us that one vote, we can pass the Women’s 8-Hour bill.[13]” Mac wanted to help, but this wasn’t his fight, and the farmers he represented had a tumultuous relationship with labor. A move to help them could hurt his re-election, especially if the IMA aligned against him.

Reuben was heavy with apprehension as he ascended the Senate galley stairs to watch the vote. The adrenaline of the last several hours finally relented to exhaustion, his strength seemingly leaving him in a loud sigh as he fell into his seat. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Reuben saw a familiar face—it was Mac, brimming with mischievous energy and wearing a wry grin. He crossed the nearly empty galley, sat next to Reub, and whispered in his ear, “When the roll is called, my vote will be for the bill.”[14] He left without another word, leaving Reub with a feeling he’d almost forgotten: hope. Could it be? Could the bill have a chance? He watched in growing anticipation as the yeas were read—Carroll, Crisenberry, Downing! Soderstrom could hardly contain himself as the results were announced: the Women’s Eight Hour Law was passed by a vote of 26 to 8!

Labor’s victory was heralded throughout the state. “Thus there has ended in victory for organized labor in general, and the working women and girls in Illinois in particular, a legislative struggle that has been carried on persistently for nearly a quarter of a century,” Soderstrom proclaimed. “The passage of the bill takes Illinois out of the class of low standard states and places it high in the ranks of progressive states in relation to working women.”[15] The Illinois State and the Chicago Women’s Trade Union Leagues held a dinner at the Chicago Women’s Club to celebrate a victory more than 40 years in the making. Invited to speak to the assembled crowd, Soderstrom was introduced to the podium with a song written specifically for him. As the crowd began to sing, “How do you do, Mr. Soderstrom, how do you do?” the Happy Warrior shambled up to the stage, blushing with pride. It was a moment he would remember with pride for the rest of his long and storied life.

Protects the Unemployed

While the Women’s Eight Hour bill demonstrated Reuben’s skill in outmaneuvering the IMA and big business, his passage of unemployment insurance was a classic example of his ability to work with them against a common enemy. The Unemployment Insurance bill was a response to section III of FDR’s Federal Social Security Act, which called on the federal government to work with states to collect and provide unemployment insurance. It was a law the IMA had bitterly opposed. In 1934 James Donnelly of the Illinois Manufacturers’ Association had traveled to Washington to fight such legislation, testifying that “it would undermine the fabric of our economic and social life by destroying initiative, discouraging thrift, and stifling individual responsibility…It would result in further and unnecessary intrusion of the Government into the domain of private enterprise, thus aggravating the hardships which have already been caused industry by extensive government regulations, restrictions, and competition.”[16] In an editorial to the Los Angeles Times later that month, Donnelly continued, “Such a law would inevitably operate to hold down the number of employees on the pay roll as well as to prevent and minimize increases in the rate of pay, so that the burden of the tax could be reduced to the minimum. These bills are contrary to the spirit of the Constitution of the United States and inconsistent with the many decisions of the Supreme Court on analogous questions of taxation.”[17]

Reub, surprisingly, didn’t entirely disagree. He preferred employment over the public dole, which he called a “miserable makeshift.”[18] He worried intently about the long-term consequences of idleness; speaking about the Great Depression twenty years later Reuben recalled, “Well, I’d say that unemployment caused the greatest trouble that we were confronted with. In fact, I sincerely believe…if we can keep our people employed, everything else seems to work out some way, in a fairly satisfactory way.”[19] This was one of the reasons Reuben fought so hard for the 30-hour week. “The 30-hour week would create jobs for the 400,000 jobless in the state and solve the relief problem,” he repeated in speeches, testimony, and interviews throughout the year. “[It] would absorb all employees now out of work…It is the only sensible solution to the unemployment problem.”[20]

However, the IMA thoroughly refused to work with Soderstrom on such legislation, killing his 30-Hour bill in the Senate by a vote of 9 to 12.[21] Given this, Reuben saw unemployment compensation as the only viable alternative. And if someone had to bear the cost, he thought it only fair that it should be business, not the taxpayer. He didn’t buy Donnelly’s argument that unemployment insurance would lower employment; he believed employment was driven by demand, and believed that the payments would ultimately raise employment through increased spending. Besides, if Illinois failed to enact an unemployment insurance bill, the state would lose its share of the $18,000,000 the federal government had already collected from Illinois businesses.[22]

It soon became clear that the fight would not be over whether the state would adopt unemployment insurance, but what shape such legislation would take. The battle lines between the ISFL and IMA were soon drawn around a key issue: how would it be paid for? Donnelly and his ilk wanted “Employer’s reserve accounts”- a series of individual funds held by each individual company. This model was especially desirable for large companies producing stable goods, as their relatively low unemployment rate would translate into lower insurance rates. Reuben, meanwhile, pushed for a “pooled fund,” a common account paid into by all businesses and administered by the state. This way, the volatility of a given business or industry would not impact workers’ security, should they lose their jobs. The sides also butted heads over how much employees should contribute (the IMA wanted a 50/50 split, while Soderstrom wanted employers to pay in full) and how long benefits should last (13 weeks or 16 weeks).[23]

Freed from the constraints of the legislature, Reuben sought to move the fight out of the Assembly and into private conference. He soon got his wish, with Governor Horner calling for private consultation between his men and representatives of the Federal Social Security Board, followed by “joint conference committee” constituted of ISFL and IMA reps.[24] For weeks the two sides battled it out, with Reub and Olander on one side of the table facing off against Donnelly and his men. The IMA pressed hard, first for private accounts, then for a “hybrid model,” and lowering the employment contribution to roughly 25%. Reub held firm, refusing to give an inch and promising to fight “as far as I can go.” He would not abandon workers in smaller companies, and denounced employee contributions as “paying a double tax. The employers will pass on the cost of the insurance to the consumer even if paid for by the workers.”[25]

For more than a month they went round after round, neither side gaining the advantage. For a while it appeared as though the joint committee process, which had worked so well in crafting the Occupational Disease Act, was doomed to failure. Finally, days before the end of session, Reuben had a breakthrough. Calling the committee together one last time, he put forth a new theory of the case: labor and manufacturing, he argued, had a common enemy: the insurance companies. After all, it was fear of their exorbitant rates that was driving the IMA’s opposition to a common fund. What if, instead of fighting each other over how to pay these unreasonable rates, labor and manufacturing united to push for legislation limiting the rates insurance companies could charge? And there was no reason to stop at unemployment insurance; Illinois employers had been forced to spend $22,000,000 a year on liability insurance, yet only $7,000,000 was ever paid to injured workmen. This stank of extortion, Reub exclaimed, and together they could prevail upon the legislature to lower the rates on employers and increase employee benefits.

Donnelly was pleasantly stunned. He loved the idea; after all, an ISFL/IMA alliance, at least on this one issue, would be unstoppable. They quickly crafted an Unemployment Insurance bill with a pooled fund that required insurance companies to charge lower rates to companies that had lower rates of unemployment. The IMA also agreed to 16 weeks of payment and no employee contributions.[26] Reuben, true to his word, leant his full support to a legislative investigation into insurance companies “making excessive profits out of the misery and suffering of maimed and crippled people.”[27]

Soderstrom’s ability to craft an alliance with a traditional enemy without a single concession was an incredible feat in and of itself. Even more remarkable, Reub had achieved all this outside of the legislative process. Once again, as they had with the Occupational Disease Act, the ISFL and IMA were able to reach an accommodation when politicians had failed. Reuben’s new way of doing business was proving effective.

LABOR’S CIVIL WAR

Soderstrom Calls for Unity

While Reuben was able to unify labor and advance its cause at the state level, he was unable to prevent the fissures occurring on the national scene from splitting labor in two. Over the past year the unions of the CIO, led by United Miners of America (UMWA) President John L. Lewis, had embarked on a massive enrollment drive, scoring major victories for labor along the way. They successfully organized the steel industry and the automobile industry and made significant advances among textile workers, longshoremen, and others. By the end of 1937 the rival labor organization had grown to over 3.7 million members, including over 600,000 miners, 400,000 automobile workers and 375,000 steelworkers![28] The AFL responded with a push of its own, incorporating 801 new labor organizations and adding 666,363 new members.[29]

Back in Illinois, Reub worked hard to limit the damage. In public speeches and events, he downplayed the severity of the division, describing it as “a parting of friends…We hope for and confidently await their return.”[30] Expressing confidence that there was room for “both kinds of organizations under the American Federation of Labor,” he worked with his CIO counterpart Ray Edmundson to bridge the divides their national leaders had breached. They continued to coordinate through the Joint Labor Legislative Board to make sure labor’s pending legislative program was not endangered.[31] That May papers were still reporting that the Illinois UMWA was “sticking by” the ISFL, with Edmundson publicly praising Reuben and Vic for their efforts.[32]

Behind the scenes, Reuben pleaded with national leadership to adopt what he called the Illinois Plan: Ignore the belligerent rhetoric, listen to legitimate concerns, and make accommodations for the sake of unity. Don’t vote for the outright expulsion of the CIO unions. If the AFL followed this advice, Soderstrom maintained, the tensions driving this conflict could be diffused. “It may appear to be a vague hope,” he said that year, “But I think the situation should be allowed to help work itself out. I see within the last 60 days a chance. I think Lewis is stopped. The excitement of his revolt is diminishing—like the interest of the crowd when the circus parade has gone by.”[33]

Unfortunately, Green and his lieutenants did not listen. They moved ahead with their plans to eject the CIO unions, going so far as to invite the Progressive Miners Association (PMA), the UMWA’s bitter rivals, to join the AFL. The move had major implications for Illinois, as the state was home to both the PMA and the UMWA’s largest district. The move infuriated Edmundson, who railed against the move as the act of “frantic fear and desperation and the natural consequence of such fear in binding together two dying institutions… we consider the action of the executive council of the American Federation of Labor as a furtherance of their nefarious scheme to divide rather than to link the workers of the nation.”[34] He called on Soderstrom to refuse to admit the PMA in the name of labor solidarity.

Reub was torn. After all, the PMA was accused of numerous acts of violence, and Reuben had spent the last years repeatedly disavowing the organization and its tactics. His mentor, John Walker, had already left the organization in disgust, and there is little question Reuben found the PMA’s inclusion without any kind of reform problematic to say the least. Still, the PMA was willing to submit to AFL leadership, something the UMWA refused to do. They also lent the Federation considerable numeric strength; the PMA was 22,500 strong, more than replacing the 17,000 member hole left by the UMWA. In the end, Soderstrom told reporters, when the ISFL received notification from the AFL to oust the UMWA and recognize the PMA, “there will be no alternative except to comply. The situation is a bad and regrettable one. I hope it will be short-lived and eventually all organized groups will be in the same parental fold.”[35] Edmundson was not appeased. He led the rebel unions out of the arms of the ISFL embittered, claiming betrayal and swearing revenge.

With the exit of the CIO, the 1937 ISFL convention was a subdued affair, described by reporters as “one of the quietest in many years…The calm demeanor of the convention was best illustrated by the fact that the biggest controversy involved selection of Peoria as the 1938 convention city.”[36] The 750 delegates in attendance demonstrated none of the animosity toward their CIO brothers that had characterized the national split. “One of the things very noticeable at the Federation of Labor convention at LaSalle, was the lack of bitterness on the part of the majority of the officers and delegates toward the Committee for Industrial Unionism,” wrote one reporter. “This writer interviewed many of the delegates and their attitude toward the CIO and found many of them in sympathy with the main purpose of the committee, which we understand is the organization of workers into industrial unions, where that policy is found to be the best for the workers concerned.”[37] In his opening address, Reuben set the tone for a constructive conversation, both in the convention halls and across the nation. Opposed to the vitriolic attacks on the character of rival union leaders, Reuben reiterated his belief that both sides could find reason to reconcile:

I never believed that organized labor could become stronger by dividing its strength; I never quite believed either, that David Dubinsky, Sidney Hillman and John L. Lewis were rogues and rascals…A Ford car is an automobile, a Packard car is also an automobile, and there is room for both of them on the highway. An industrial organization is a union composed mostly of unskilled workers; a craft organization is a union composed largely of skilled workers, but there is room for both of them within the American Federation of Labor.[38]

While he held out hope for unity, Soderstrom left no doubt in the minds of the audience as to what he thought of the insurgency within labor’s ranks. For Reuben, while honest men could differ on trade or industrial organization, the real sin was in disunion. To him the CIO rebels were no better than the Confederates who attempted to break the American Union 70 years before. Referring to the Lewis loyalists inside the Mining and Steel unions, Reuben exclaimed:

Sometimes I think there is a similarity between even the leaders of the rebellion movement within the American Federation of Labor and the leaders of the rebellion during the Civil War. I can see a resemblance between the activities of Jefferson Davis and Van Bittner; I see a resemblance between the activities of Stonewall Jackson and Phillip Murray; I can see a resemblance between the activities of Robert E. Lee -- perhaps I had better say it this way; if there isn’t a resemblance between the mythical Simon Legree and John L. Lewis in creating trouble, then I am a Chinaman! The rebel leaders within the labor movement are dancing today to the rebel tune of ‘Dixie.’ I say to you I believe it is a dance of death.[39]

Soderstrom did not take the comparison lightly; to him this was a war for labor’s very existence, and he was prepared to fight it to the bitter end. Yet, like his hero Abraham Lincoln, he looked forward to reconciliation over reckoning, and remained ready to forgive his brothers the moment they asked for peace:

It took four years of civil warfare to convince the belligerent elements of the South that there was room enough under one flag for both the North and the South. It may take four years of civil warfare within the American labor movement to convince the belligerent elements that there is room enough for the industrial union and the craft union under the banner of the American Federation of Labor...I am going to predict that while these rebels are dancing recklessly and singing to the rebel tune of Dixie today, inside of four years they will be forced back into the protecting folds of the American Federation of Labor. When that time comes we will welcome them. We will again teach them to sing, not the rebel tune of Dixie, but “My Country ’tis of Thee,” and “The Union Forever.”[40]

Competing Conventions

In stark contrast to the Illinois Federation’s measured tone, AFL President Green seemed to come almost unhinged with anger at the National Labor Convention in Denver that October. Reub’s written report to the ISFL illustrated in graphic terms the deep level of resentment:

Ouster of the insurgent Committee for Industrial Organizing unions became secondary to the aggressive warfare against them as William Green, president of the American Federation of Labor, bending forward, shaking his closed fist menacingly, his face wet with perspiration, and red with anger and emotion, shouted a declaration of war against John L Lewis and his Committee for Industrial Organizing that brought the convention to its feet when the bristling, fighting mad president declared, ‘Our patience is gone. Our labor movement will now change to the greatest fighting machine that was ever created within the ranks of labor.’

The delegates pounded fists on the tables and stamped their feet on the floor, breaking in to President Green’s speech with shouts of approval, yet above all the acclamatory noise rose the angry voice of the federation president, driving in his verbal steel to the hilt, and initiating a campaign that will drive the insurgent unions to oblivion when he roared; “The clock has struck. The hour is here. You are here to make a momentous decision, and if my judgment is correct, you will order your board of directors to revoke the charter of these international unions which have split American labor into two camps. And when you give those orders, I can assure you upon my sacred word of honor your instructions will be carried out.”[41]

While Green prepared to rally his troops in Denver, Lewis oversaw the planning for the CIO’s first national conference in Atlantic City - the very city where Lewis had announced the start of the CIO with a fist to the face of AFL Executive Council member William Hutcheson. Members poured in from across the country in a show of strength. While Lewis was unable to attend due to the flu, his absence actually served the convention well, as coverage focused less on him and his rivalry with AFL leadership and more on the size and diversity of the conference itself. While the message from the AFL Conference had been one of war with no quarter, the story from Atlantic City was one of CIO calls for reconciliation. The CIO leadership sent a telegram to the Denver convention expressing its wish for 100 representatives of the AFL to meet with 100 representatives of the CIO to thrash out their differences and settle the rift. Reub, now a member of the AFL Resolution Committee, was suspicious of the overture. He considered it, “interesting, but not convincing as to its honesty of purpose. The AFL has had a peace negotiating committee for over a year and the CIO has refused to meet this group. If the Lewis faction is on the square and sincere in its desire for an adjustment or settlement they should meet with the peace committee already appointed by the AFL. The CIO proposal looked like a “red herring.”[42] Reuben’s instincts proved correct; although the AFL and CIO agreed to talks, neither side was willing to compromise. But in calling for rapprochement, Lewis had come across as the “bigger man,” especially in contrast to Green’s vitriol. AFL leadership, consumed by personal animosity, had ignored Soderstrom’s sage advice, and in so doing ensured that the CIO was not going away any time soon.

A BETTER DAY

Soderstrom Raises National Profile

While Reuben’s approach to the CIO fight went unheeded, his contributions to the conflict drew much attention. Using the current crisis to his advantage, Soderstrom’s powers of persuasion convinced many painter, plumber, and mail carrier unions to join his fold. These efforts, combined with his push to unionize workers and industries which were previously unorganized, led to an increase of 43,000 new members over the previous year despite CIO losses, bringing the ISFL’s total membership to 400,000.[43] He had more than doubled his membership rolls in seven years. Reuben’s ability to increase his Illinois numbers despite the CIO split had earned him a reputation as an epic organizer. Even more importantly, his successful integration of the Illinois-based Progressive Miner’s Union meant needed numbers not just for the ISFL but for AFL affiliates across the nation. PMU President Joseph Ozanic was invited to speak at the AFL convention, and he brought the crowd to its feet when he declared “I pledge to you the whole support of my 35,000 members and, if necessary, our entire financial resources, to stamp out the plague—the so-called CIO—from the American labor movement once and forever. I will give you everything in me and in my organization to help your splendid cause.”[44]

The brothers of the American Federation weren’t the only ones who realized Reuben’s importance. Recognizing his abilities, Governor Horner sent the ISFL president to Washington, DC for the 4th National Conference on Labor Legislation. Reub, along with CFL Secretary Joseph Kennan, Chief Factory Inspector John M. Falasz, and Director Martin P. Durkin of the Illinois Department of Labor, spent three days bringing the needs of Illinois labor to the nation’s capital. In the discussions that followed, Soderstrom—a Republican who had stumped for President Roosevelt—impressed the Administration, particularly in regard to his review of labor legislation enacted in the past year and ideas on how to better enforce existing labor laws. Before the conference ended, Secretary of Labor Frances Perkins presented a certificate to Reub and the Illinois delegation thanking them “for outstanding progress in the enactment of labor legislation.” The award was no customary honorific. “This is the first time that an agency of the federal government has recognized the efforts made by the ISFL in the legislative field,” Reub’s colleague Vic Olander noted, “And the certificate of recognition will be received with a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction by the officers and legislative representatives of the Illinois labor movement.”[45]

Looking Ahead

By the early snow falls of 1937, Reuben had grown optimistic about the future. Not only had he survived the loss of his political seat, he’d grown stronger in defeat, using the experience and relationships he’d gained during his tenure as a Representative to pass major reforms as president of the ISFL. While saddened by the split within labor, he’d taken advantage of the CIO defection by bringing in unions and organizations that had long stood outside labor’s tent (many of them because of Lewis himself) to grow his ISFL to over 400,000 members. Above all he demonstrated a practical approach to leadership, working with adversaries like the IMA and CIO where he could while standing strong against them when necessary, building a national profile in the process. Through it all, he’d kept to his principles, never backing down from labor’s vision.

Soderstrom’s optimism extended to his national outlook as well. As he stated with pride in his annual Labor Day address:

We have reached the threshold of an era of great reforms. Wage-earners, during the past twelve months, have had their first taste of the ‘better day’ that organized labor has been striving for, and struggling for, since the unparalleled business depression began with a world-rocking stock market crash in the fall of 1929. The year 1937—this year—will, no doubt, see the turning point in unemployment improvement, which all thoughtful labor officials agree, is the greatest problem of the present century.[46]

Reuben was excited for the future, fully confident that the economic worst was behind him and his nation. He was in for an unpleasant surprise.

* * *