The base ingratitude of Berger toward those who have followed and supported him; the gross, incredible savagery of his egotism in turning to rend those he had discipled into revolutionaries the moment their allegiance to the principles he taught them stood in the way of his cowardice and ambition; his butcher insensibilities in making his party's Constitution a "scrap of paper" and the party a shambles for the hewing down of two-thirds of his "Comrades;" his burlesque effrontery in posing in the convention as a law-and-order man, railing at his own victims as "anarchists"--these daubs of color paint the cubist portrait of Wisconsin's mock hero, one of the meanest caricatures of human life that ever swaggered on a political arena.
When the two Wings of the Convention raised the question, "Who called the cops?" Berger's pale and innocent figure rose with the trembling remark: "If they had not been here yesterday morning we would not be here now. The two-fisted Reed and the other two-fisted Left Wingers would be here." He took pains to have the delicate pathos of his martyrdom sketched into the Executive Committee report he signed, "Victor L. Berger, in addition to a sentence of 20 years, has four more indictments pending against him, besides being refused his seat in Congress. All the Socialist candidates for Congress in Wisconsin and the State Secretary also are under indictment. No mail whatever is permitted to be delivered to the 'Leader,' the party daily in Milwaukee," etc. On the other hand, against the terrible "anarchs" who had so outraged his own gentle spirit and sense of order, he even fulminated outside the Convention Hall, as in the interview which we take from the "Call" of September 4, 1919: