This approach, pitting US-born workers against imported labor in California’s rural economy was, to put it mildly, not the only possibility. As Bardacke shows, there was already a long tradition of much more militant struggle in the California fields, including the IWW prior to US entry into World War I, the Partido Liberal Mexicano (PLM) of Magonista revolutionaries who fled repression during the Mexican Revolution and who worked with the IWW on both sides of the border (the red flag briefly flew over Tijuana in 1911), as well as the great strikes of 1933, organized in part by Communist Party trade union militants. PLM influence remained alive in Los Angeles and other Mexican-American centers into the 1950s. The Filipino-based Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee (AWOC) around Larry Itliong (about which more below) was in favor of reaching out to the braceros as class brothers. But for the cursillo adept and Alinsky-trained Cesar Chavez in 1950s Cold War America, this classwide approach was not only an “unknown past,” as Bardacke points out, it was a past he would have viscerally rejected, and did reject when it later re-erupted in his periodic purges of “leftists” and real or imagined “Communists” from the UFW, or finally when “in 1979, the ghost of Ricardo Flores Magon”[5] made “a cameo appearance at one of the most dramatic moments in UFW history.” This antagonism between braceros and Mexican-Americans even began to crack during a rural strike wave of 1959–1962. At the Dannenburg Ranch labor camp in the Imperial Valley in February 1961, a thousand UPWA pickets striking nearby lettuce fields confronted hundreds of braceros, potential scabs, through a fence topped with barbed wire designed to keep the braceros from escaping. After calling on the braceros to join them, and confronting the local sheriffs who arrived to clear the strikers away, the militants watched as hundreds of braceros jumped out of the scab-herding growers’ trucks and more than a hundred of them climbed the fence in solidarity.