"Die Staaten (und) Voelker ... in diesem Geschaefte des Weltgeistes stehen in ihrem besonderen bestimmten Principe auf, das an ihrer Verfassung und der ganzen Breite ihres Zustandes seine Auslegung und Wirklichkeit hat, deren sie sich bewusst und in deren Interesse vertieft, sie zugleich bewustlose Werkzeuge und Glieder jenes inneren Geschaefts sind, worin diese Gestalten vergehen, der Geist an und fuer sich aber sich den Uebergang in seine naechste hoehere Stufe vorbereitet und erarbeitet."—Hegel,Rechtsphilosophie, § 344.
"Die Staaten (und) Voelker ... in diesem Geschaefte des Weltgeistes stehen in ihrem besonderen bestimmten Principe auf, das an ihrer Verfassung und der ganzen Breite ihres Zustandes seine Auslegung und Wirklichkeit hat, deren sie sich bewusst und in deren Interesse vertieft, sie zugleich bewustlose Werkzeuge und Glieder jenes inneren Geschaefts sind, worin diese Gestalten vergehen, der Geist an und fuer sich aber sich den Uebergang in seine naechste hoehere Stufe vorbereitet und erarbeitet."—Hegel,Rechtsphilosophie, § 344.
How shall we now, in a word, characterise the English working-men's movement? I think thus: since 1850 the definitely "revolutionary" agitation has ceased—that is, the working-men's movement accepts the bases of the capitalistic order of society, and endeavours through the establishment of benevolent funds, brotherhoods, and trade-unions, within the existing economy, to improve the condition of the working man. The opposition of classes is lessened; the worker is recognised as a man both by society and by his employer. Doubtless an elevation of the English working-classis accomplished. Effective legislation for the protection of the working man is secured; concerning which I would remark incidentally that this "elevation" tends in fact only to an aristocracy of working men such that, for example, in London immeasurable misery results—over 100,000 persons in that city are supported by the poor-rates, $25,000,000 are yearly disbursed in charity, one-fifth of the deaths occur in almshouses, public hospitals, etc. But not to dwell on this; other strata of the English proletariat have without doubt considerably improved their condition.
And now to the point;—all this is without part taken by the working man in politics, without the assumption of a political character by the working-men's movement, without constituting an independent working-men's party.
As we seek for the causes of such development, immediately we notice that, whether or not the "social spirit" has helped, we cannot think of this trait without considering a most peculiar combination of political and economic circumstances in England from 1850 to about 1880.
Without doubt the position of industrial monopoly which England reached, and whichgave a tremendous economic impulse to the nation, was the solid basis of all social development. A few figures in illustration.
The railroads of the United Kingdom covered
in 1842—1,857 English miles,in 1883—18,668 English miles.
The ships entering all British harbours amounted
in 1842 to935,000 tons,in 1883 to65,000,000 tons.
The import and export business was valued
in 1843 at about£103,000,000,in 1883 at about£732,000,000.
This means that the other nations could not rival England in extending the market for an increasing productiveness. It betokens a remarkable infrequence of disturbance through financial crises and market stagnation.
From this come important consequences for the working man: a generally favourable condition of the labour market, constantly growing need of labour, less lack of work, on the one side; on the other, satisfaction of the employer, and his inclination and ability to remunerate better the workman, to give him some share in the golden stream of profit.
Besides this peculiar combination of circumstances of an economic nature, which can never again come to any land because the competing and strengthened nations now struggle for supremacy in the markets of the world, consider the most remarkable condition of political party life in England.
It is well known that this rests, at least since the beginning of this century, upon an alternation of power between the two great parties, the Tories and the Whigs. They both strive after control, and they reach this from time to time by shrewd concession, to the spirit of progress, by a happy use of the situation at the moment. Now one, now the other, quickly seizes and masters it. Thetertius gaudensin this struggle for mastery is the working men as a class. It does not require much penetration to see that, for example, the radical English legislation in favour of the working man has come to pass only through the spite of the Tories, agrarian in their interests, against the liberal manufacturers. But if you wish to suppose noble motives for parliamentary majorities, the resolution of the Tories to provide protection for the industrial proletariat must at least have been made easy through theconsideration that the land proletariat would never get such laws. Later, especially since extension of the franchise, the policy of the Whigs was directed to reaching rule, or to sustaining themselves therein, with the help of the working man. That involved, naturally, concessions and a spirit of friendliness to the working class, even if hard to yield, even if the employers had not personal interest in these concessions.
But the employers—thanks again to the happy combination of circumstances at that time in England—had without doubt to some degree a direct and personal interest, if not in advancing, at least in not opposing, the exertions of the working class for an improvement of their situation within the limits of the existing economic order.
Thus gradually the trade unions and their regulations were recognised by the employers: the latter declared themselves ready to deal conclusively with the representatives of the workmen, and took part in arbitrations, conciliations, etc. Was this only out of consideration for the workman? Was it really because Carlyle had so advised? Was it not rather merely out of purely selfish motives? Was it not that the conservative, aristocratictrade-unions were a bulwark against all tendency to revolution, sure and strong as no police regulation could erect? And because methods of agreement offered a useful means of avoiding strikes and the consequent disturbances of trade, which were extremely feared because business was always favourable, and because every day they could make money, and because every day in which the manufactory stood still a considerablelucrum cessanswas involved?
And, finally, why should not legislation in favour of the working man be recommended? Even if the cost of production is somewhat increased, we are easily in position to recover the charge from the consumer. But production is not necessarily made more costly; the shortening of the hours of labour can be made good through an increased intensity of work, and thereby arises an advantage in having capable workmen, who are gradually paid at higher rates. Or this drawback may be counterbalanced by improvement of machinery; this they were the more willing to do, for capital was abundant, and no bounds would be placed to increase of production and sale by the possibilities of the market. Lastly, theywould remember that shrewd legislation in favour of the working-man is an excellent weapon for the large concerns to use against the small, in order to do away with the disagreeable competition of petty manufacturers. But all this is with the assurance that an expansion of production will not be hindered, but rather be demanded, by the condition of the market.
But now, granting that all could be accomplished in so easy and business-like a way, as the social evolution in England has, in fact, been accomplished under the said conditions, we must consider, in addition, the peculiar temperament of the English working-man. Because he is such a moderate and practical fellow, he is fitted for any policy that does not oblige him to see beyond his nose; and he is satisfied with it. "Always something practical," is his motto; his social-political "business," as his yarn and iron business, has nothing of theelanof the French, of the subtle thought of the German, of the fire of the Italian workman.
This practical tendency finds its true incorporation in the old English trade-union, which, as I have already said, is the shrewdest schemefor the protection of personal interests that has ever been conceived; diplomatic, adroit, smooth towards that which is above—towards the employer; exclusive, narrow, brutal towards that which is underneath—towards four-fifths of the "outsiders," the poorer classes of workmen. The trade unions are capitalistic and business-like organisations, which the calculating practical sense of the English working-man has infused with his spirit. Hence, surely in great part, their large results.
Such causes as these seem to me at the bottom of the social development of England from 1850 to 1880. It was the coincidence of a number of circumstances favourable to capital that produced this business-like organisation of the working man—that specific type which we call English.
Thus there is no socialism, no social movement in the strict sense of the term, no struggle of classes; but there is a "social peace," or at least an approach towards such, upon the basis of the capitalistic economy.
Is it truly "social peace"? Perhaps it is only a postponement of the struggle. It seems almost so; unless all signs fail, this "social peace" will not last much longer in England.Since the passing of English supremacy from the markets of the world, since the rise of lower strata of working men, the "social movement" is again on. The sense of solidarity throughout the proletariat awakens anew. With it comes the strife of classes. The question of independent political action on the part of the working man now stands as a matter of discussion before the working-men's congresses. Already have socialistic theories and demands made impression upon the orthodox membership of the trade unions. But of this we must not here speak. I would merely refer to the fact that the time from 1850 to 1880 is rightly called the period of social truce; it was the time in which the specific English type of the working-man's movement was developed.
There is no doubt that, even if this in its peculiar form gradually disappears, it will be of continued influence upon the further development of the social movement. What the English working-man has left as a lasting inheritance to the agitation of the proletariat consists of rich experiences in the sphere of trade-unionism, and a steadiness, a calm, a business-like clearness of procedure on the part of organised labour. It is, in a word, the method ofagitation that comes over from the English type and will remain in the proletariat, even if the direction of agitation becomes essentially different.
And now we leave British ground. Now we step over the Channel, and go into France. What a change of scene! Out of foggy, smoky England, with its earnest, capable, dull populace, into the charming, sunny, warm land of France, with its passionate, impulsive, hasty population.
What kind of a social movement is this in France? I have already given some indications. All ferments and boils there, all bubbles and breaks out uninterruptedly since the "glorious" revolution of the previous century. Parties are in a state of constant flux; a movement divides itself into countless factions. With haste and pressure single acts fall over one another. Parliamentary struggle is set aside, now by bloody street fights, now by conspiracy, now by assassination. To understand clearly this general characteristic, which runs to-day in the very blood of the French proletariat, but which is becoming modified, we must go back to the earlier decades. We must think of the activity of the clubs andcompanies of conspirators in the third and fourth decades of this century; we must recall the awful street fights which the Parisian proletariat waged with heroism in the June days of the year 1848, and, later, in the May days of the year 1871. There is, as it were, a smouldering, inner fire that glows constantly in the masses and their leaders, and that, when any nourishment comes to it, breaks out violently and devastates all around. The social movement in France has always had in it something morbid, excited, convulsive. Mighty, magnificent, in sudden outbreaks; again faint and flagging after the first repulse. Always looking forward, always with inspiration; but often fantastic, dreamy, uncertain in its choice of ways and means. But always filled with a faith in quick accomplishment, in sudden action, whether with the ballot or with the dagger; always filled with faith in the miracle of revolution. In this I present its motto: the characteristic of the French type lies in the word "revolutionism"—by which I mean belief in revolution-making. Involved in this revolutionism lie all the other peculiarities, as seed-corn in the sheath. Let me specify them—pardon some of the harsh word-making!Factionism, clubbism, and Putschism. Factionism is the tendency to separate into innumerable small parties; clubbism is the desire of conspiracy in secret companies and conventicles; Putschism, finally, is the fanatical tendency towards street struggle, faith in the barricade.
Whence all this? One thing springs immediately to the attention of the student of French history: what we here have learned to recognise as a characteristic trait of the movement of the French proletariat is to be found almost without change in all the actions of the French middle-classes. Indeed, it is evidently an inheritance that the proletariat has assumed. Unnoticeably the one movement passes into the other. The French proletariat is led into history by the hand of the bourgeoisie. Long after the proletariat in France had begun an independent agitation, the influence of this former movement was conspicuous. Not only in the method of strife; as well in the programmes and ideals of the French proletariat, this middle-class spirit stands even to our latest time, so that we can understand why Proudhon, the greatest theorist of the revolutionary movement, as late as after 1848 had influencein the circles of the French proletariat. That Proudhon was really a bourgeois theorist is often denied, but is none the less true; however revolutionary his phraseology may be, all his proposals for reform—whether the exchange and credit banks, or the wage theory, or the "establishment of value,"—point to an upholding, a strengthening, an ethicizing of individualistic production and the exchange of individual service.
But no one who looks at the matter will wonder at the long predominance of middle-class influence in the French proletarian movement. What prestige the French, especially the Parisian, middle-class has won in the eyes of the populace, in the course of later French history! How many chaplets of fame have been laid upon its brow since the days of 1793! In no other land, Italy perhaps excepted, has it proved itself so valiant, daring, successful. If the French bourgeoisie, as no other in the world, has made a free path for itself in so short a time through the overcoming of feudal institutions, truly the iron broom of Napoleon has done a great share of this work. But we must not forget that it is the revolution of 1793—the uprising of the middle class—whichhas levelled the ground; that is the historic significance of the Reign of Terror, and with it of the middle-class that since those days has borne an aureole upon its head.
But it is not only this rather ideal element that is responsible for the preponderance of the middle-class influence in France; we must add the weighty fact that a great part of the specifically French industries, owing to the peculiar organisation inateliers, bears a half-individualistic character, and that these are largely industries of the arts. Thus the Lyons silk industry and many of the Parisian manufactures of luxury. These are in sharp contrast, for example, to the great English staple industries of coal, iron, and cotton. The Frenchouvrier, in Lyons directly calledmaître ouvrier, assumes, through the tendency and organisation of many French industries, a more individualistic, and so middle-class, appearance than the proletariat in other lands.
But to understand the characteristics which are stamped upon the social movement in France as an inheritance from the middle-class, to explain that enthusiasm for revolution of which I have spoken to you, we mustlook at the whole history of France. That people!—a sanguine, enthusiastic race, with a volatile temperament, with a dash which is not to be found in those of northern lands. Perhaps the French type of the social movement, somewhat modified by German influence, is again to be found in Italy; there we must learn to see its peculiar characteristics, the quick response of large masses, the straw fire of momentary enthusiasm—in short, we must understand clearly an entirely different mode of thought and feeling in order to comprehend this French, or, if you will, Roman, type of the born revolutionist, in its heaven-wide difference from the English workman. Victor Hehn says somewhere, in his striking way, concerning the Italians, but it can be applied to all of the Latin races:
"Completely strange to him is the German, and even more so the English!—Philistine, quite unthinkable, is the temperament of those unimaginative and well-meaning sons of habit who, arrayed with all the virtues of the commonplace, are respectable through the moderation of their claims, are slow in comprehension, ... and who drag after them throughout their lives, with pathetic patience, a burden of social prejudices received from their fathers."
"Completely strange to him is the German, and even more so the English!—Philistine, quite unthinkable, is the temperament of those unimaginative and well-meaning sons of habit who, arrayed with all the virtues of the commonplace, are respectable through the moderation of their claims, are slow in comprehension, ... and who drag after them throughout their lives, with pathetic patience, a burden of social prejudices received from their fathers."
Thus one of Latin race strives after a far-off object, and does not shrink from forceful means of reaching it. This heaven-storming temperament has been given to him by nature for his mission in history. Further, in order to understand the character of the social movement in France, think of the preponderance in this land of the capital city, Paris! If Paris is not exactly France, as is often asserted, yet it is strong enough to dictate on occasion the laws of the people. Paris, this nerve ganglion! This rumbling volcano!
Further, I have always the impression that the French people stand even to-day under the influence, perhaps we may say the ban, of their "glorious" revolution. The influence of such an event—the most tremendous drama of history—cannot in one hundred years disappear from a people. So I think that this nervosity, if I may so express it, which clings to all public life in France, may be, in large part, a heritage from those terrible years of general overthrow, an inheritance that has been most carefully fostered in less glorious revolutions since then—ah, how many! And out of that time springs something else: an overmastering faith in force, in the availabilityof the political riot. The history of France has developed itself since the July days of 1789 rather from without to within, than from within to without; the change of régime has played a mighty rôle, has often worked decisively upon the progress of social life. It is not strange that always they rest their hope upon it, and seek to use further, as a means of development, the political revolution which has often wrought so mightily. This belief in revolution stands, however, in close connection, I think, with the specifically French, optimistic, ideal-socialistic philosophy of the eighteenth century, of which I have heretofore spoken. In France is the classic ground of that belief in theordre naturel, which can come over the world "as a thief in the night," because it is already here and needs only to be uncovered.
If, now, we would see all of the innumerable influences that work together in order to produce the peculiar type of French agitation, we must notice that in this land a strange growth of modern times has struck deep root—anarchism. For centuries past preparations had been made for its easy entrance. For what is anarchism fundamentally other than a new formof pure revolutionism in method, of middle-class ideals as object? Are not Ravachol and Caserio the true sons of those conspirators who inspired the France of 1830 and 1840? Is there any more legitimate father of anarchy than Blanqui? Anarchy, we may say, is born of the marriage of the social philosophy of the eighteenth century with the revolutionism of the nineteenth; it is a bloody renaissance of social utopism.
Here mention must be made of a matter which I have carefully avoided thus far, because it is an hypothesis which I must lay before you with a question-mark. Has the fact that the land is divided among so many small owners had any effect upon the peculiar development of the modern anarchistic movement? I mean, there must be a connection between both these phenomena. Indeed, it is a question as to how far anarchism has ever obtained in the masses. But, so far as I can see, wherever the anarchistic propaganda seems to spread it is always in agrarian districts; I recall the work of Bakunin in Italy and Spain, and, as well, the nestling of anarchism now again in France. And wherever the country people have been aroused toindependent agitation, this movement has always shown at least a trace of anarchism. For examples, Italy and Spain and Ireland.
It is an interesting problem:—Is, and if so, why is, anarchy the theoretical expression of agrarian revolution? The investigation of this would lead away from my present purpose, which is to speak of the proletarian-socialistic agitation. But I would at least present it.
If you ask me, finally, what lasting effect the peculiarity of the French agitation has had upon the great international movement of the proletariat, I answer—perhaps the least of all the nations, since it bears unmistakable marks of unripeness. But I believe that it will be the model for all other races, because of the idealism, theélan, the energy, which distinguish it from the movements of other nations. I wonder if the proletariat in Paris may not again be filled with an inspiration for some ideal, while we middle-class citizens of other nations are in danger of decadence!
You all know what wonderful progress the proletarian movement has made in Germany. For as we look back to the inconsiderable beginnings about the year 1840—they were rather agitation by hand-workers than true proletariandisturbances—suddenly, in the year 1863, as if shot out of a pistol, appears an independent political working-men's party, not again to disappear, but to grow to mighty proportions.
Whence comes this strange apparition of such a social agitation in Germany? How can we explain the suddenness of its entrance, and especially the fundamental traits of its character—its legal-parliamentary tendency, and its self-reliance from the beginning even until now?
At first we may incline to the thought that the causes for the peculiarities of agitation in Germany should be sought in the personality of its founder, Ferdinand Lassalle. Without doubt we owe much to the individuality of this extraordinary man. We know what kind of a fire it was that burnt consumingly within him—a demoniacal ambition, a Titanic eagerness for fame. And as this ambition, after many years of scientific renown, finally led him into the sphere of politics, wherein all ambitious men who cannot be generals and artists in our time must necessarily go, it was only natural that the masterful Lassalle should become leader, chief, prince. Where Bismarck stood, another could stand only in the shadow;but the opposition would not have Lassalle—apparently about 1855-1865 he desired to ally himself with them, but they feared this man to whom they would not yield themselves. There remained only one thing, to become the leader of a new and distinct party, the working-men's party. This was Lassalle's party in the strictest sense, his hammer, his sword, with which he would win for himself a position in political life.
But these personal elements must be aided by circumstances, the specific conditions of political and social life in Germany, in order to crown Lassalle's efforts with success and to establish thoroughly the movement during the short year of his leadership.
I will not here dwell much upon the German national characteristics. Concerning the peculiarities of the English and the French types of the social movement this was necessary; but the German type owes little to racial character. We dwell rather upon the external, incidental circumstances in order to explain the peculiarities of the social movement in Germany; and it is not hard to trace the chain of causes.
In Germany a real revolutionary movement,like that in France, was not at this time possible—even if we assume that German character would thus incline. The opportunity came too late. Revolutionism in the French sense bears, as I have already said, the mark of unripeness. Revolutionism may influence a nation long, but it cannot be made the ruling motive of a social movement at so late a point of time as that at which the German agitation began because the stage of unripeness has passed. Take for example Italy, whose people certainly by nature tend towards revolutionism; yet they must conform to the experiences of older lands even if the inner nature always urges to outbreak.
On the other hand, Germany, as its social agitation began, was yet so immature economically—like England at the end of the last century—that the subordination of economic to political agitation is easily understood.
But would it not have been perhaps more natural if the proletariat, when it desired to enter into a legal-parliamentary course of action, had sought alliance with the existing party of opposition—as has happened in other lands? We must lay stress on the fact that it was hindered in this through the incapacity of the middle-class party of that time in radicalpolitics; for this reason it could not at the time absorb the proletariat.
It is a part of the inheritance which German liberalism has received from the year 1848 that one of its chief characteristics is the fear of the red spectre—revolution. Indeed the proletariat has itself helped towards this by its behaviour. We all know how the middle-class agitation of the year 1848 in Germany failed, and sought the protection of the Prussian bayonet from the "gens mal intentionnés"—the well-known undercurrent of democracy present in every civil revolution. Civic pride and defiance fell at that moment, as always, when the spectre of social revolution appeared on the horizon—witness the law against the socialists. Thus was the bridge between the proletarian agitation and civic opposition even at that early time broken, soon to be entirely destroyed.
As in the strictly political sphere this fear and hesitation did not permit the liberal party to come to decided radicalism, which probably would have contented the proletariat for a long time, so in the economic sphere earlier German liberalism was characterised by what we to-day would call an incomprehensible doctrinairism, an inane obsession derived from thedreary Manchester school of thought. The exertions of Schulze-Delitzsch, who was indeed in his sphere a serviceable man, could not nearly make good the shortcomings of the liberal party in all questions of social politics. The liberal political economists of that time had no understanding of the demands and movements of the proletariat. Such pitiful writings on the so-called "working-man's question" as those by Prince-Smith are not produced by writers of reputation in other lands, so far as I know. Possibly this or that great mande l'Instituthas rivalled them.
The inability of the liberal party to draw the gushing water of proletarian agitation to its own mill finds striking example in the answer which, in the year 1862, a deputation of working-men from Leipsic received from the leaders of the "National Union." The working men had applied for the privilege of taking part in political life. They wanted some recognition for their leaders. And what was given as answer? That the working men were by birth already honorary members of the union!
And now Bismarck, in spite of the fact that the liberal party was refusing the franchise tothe proletariat, forced upon the country in the year 1867 a universal, direct, and secret ballot, a bequest of Lassalle's. We are tempted to assume diabolical revenge against the liberals as a motive for this. For the moulding of the social movement in Germany this had two consequences of fundamental importance. First, it weakened yet more the middle class, which, now between the aristocracy and the proletariat, was sinking into an ever-increasing insignificance and, through fear of the growing working-men's party, lost more and more of its self-confidence. Hence a further estrangement between the liberal party and the proletarian movement ensued.
Secondly, this franchise that had fallen into the lap of the working man inclined the leaders of the proletariat to purely parliamentary agitation, and for a long time hindered them from a right understanding of the non-political aims of the proletariat.
We may look upon all this with sorrow or with joy—and everyone who sympathises with the fate of his people will feel in one way or the other; now we must accept it as a fact, the existence of which cannot be changed, even if for the future we alter the particularobjects of political effort. But the purpose of science is only to explain how things have unfolded themselves; and only that is the idea which has ruled throughout this my work. Hut of course there are always people unable to separate science and politics.
One remark in conclusion! This Lassalle movement, and with it also the German type of social agitation, bears the stamp not only of historic-national interest, as I have attempted to show to you, but also much of purely personal characteristics; as is proved by the mysticism, the cult of a person and the creation of a sect, to which the movement has deteriorated. Has it never occurred to you how remarkable it is that this movement, perhaps more than any other, has developed, in spite of its German and personal characteristics, into a world-wide and enduring "school," if I may so express it? Of this there can be no doubt.
One ground for this may be found in the personality of its creator, in the passionate force of his oratory, in the power of his agitation. Treitschke thinks that Germany has possessed three great agitators, List, Blum, and Lassalle. Surely Lassalle is the greatestleader of the proletariat thus far; the only agitator of real greatness which the proletariat has thus far had. For this reason his personality continues in force even until now.
"In Breslau a churchyard—a dead man in grave:There slumbers the one who to us the sword gave."
"In Breslau a churchyard—a dead man in grave:There slumbers the one who to us the sword gave."
But here again we are not satisfied with the purely personal element; we must rather seek after the real grounds for the explanation of the fact.
To me it seems that the triumph of the German type in the international movement, as it was begun through Lassalle, lies essentially in the circumstance that Lassalle's agitation, and then the later German movement, is filled by the spirit of that man who was called to formulate the theories which should bring to a sharp point all the general objects of proletarian effort. You know that I mean Karl Marx.
The name of this man expresses all the centripetal force which the modern social movement contains. From him comes all that which tends to remove national peculiarities and to make an international movement. "Marxism" is the tendency to make the socialmovement international, to unify it. But of this we must not here speak; only of its peculiar features. The one great social movement runs first into separate streams of national effort; later these unite again. There is throughout a tendency to return to unity. But the movement develops itself in national lines and is determined by contingencies which make history. The general law of these incidental circumstances I have tried to show to you to-day.
And now at last let us pass to the theorist of the social movement, Karl Marx.
"κτῆμα ἐς ἀεί."Thuc., i., 22.
Karl Marx was born in Treves in the year 1818, the son of a Jewish lawyer, who was later baptised into the Christian faith. Intelligence and general culture were at home in the house of his parents. The favourite authors of the family were Rousseau and Shakespeare, the latter of whom was the favourite poet of Karl Marx throughout life. An element of cosmopolitanism was conspicuous in the household life of the Marx family. Their closest intercourse was with the family von Westphalen, the parents of the later Prussian minister—the half-Scottish, highly cultured Baron Edgar. To this man the young Karl owed his first introduction to literature, and later to his wife Jenny.
Karl studied philosophy and history in Bonn,purposing to become a Prussian professor. By the year 1842 he came to the point of formal admission as lecturer. But difficulties soon presented themselves; the young Marx, then allied with Bruno Bauer, was carried away by the reactionary tendency which at that time swept again over the Prussian universities, especially over heretical Bonn. As customarily happens in such cases of aborted career, the young Marx became a journalist. Soon he emigrated, because in 1844 the Prussian police drove him out of the land; he fled to Paris, was thrown out again by Guizot on demand, we suppose, of Prussia; in 1845 he went to Brussels, returning to Germany during the year 1848; finally after the year 1849 he found rest in London from the pressure of the police. Here he lived until his death in the year 1883.
His personality, the characteristics of which were strikingly developed through the external circumstances of his life, was marked by extraordinary intellectual activity. He was a pitiless and positive critic in his very nature. He had an abnormally sharp vision for psychological and historical continuity, especially where these are based upon the less noble impulsesof mankind. A word of Pierre Leroux's seems to me as if coined for Marx: "il etait ... fort pénétrant sur le mauvais côté de la nature humaine." So it was by nature easy for him to believe in Hegel's teaching that "evil" has accomplished all the development of mankind. His conception of the world is expressed in Wallenstein's magnificent words:
"To the bad spirit belongs the earth, not to the good; the good things that the gods send to us from above are to be held only in communal possession. Their light gives us joy, yet makes no man rich; in their kingdom there is no private possession."
"To the bad spirit belongs the earth, not to the good; the good things that the gods send to us from above are to be held only in communal possession. Their light gives us joy, yet makes no man rich; in their kingdom there is no private possession."
What qualified Karl Marx to reach the first rank among the social philosophers of the nineteenth century, and to obtain next to Hegel and Darwin the greatest influence upon modern ideas, was the fact that he united a knowledge of the highest form of the historic philosophy of his time—Hegel—with a knowledge of the highest form of social life—that of Western Europe, of France, and especially of England. It was because he knew how to concentrate, as by a lens, all the rays of light which had been shed by other thinkers, and because he was able through hiscosmopolitan experience to withdraw attention from the incidental features of national development, and to concentrate it upon what is typical in modern social life.
Marx, in common with his friend Friedrich Engels, in a large number of monographs, the best known of which isCapital, has laid the ground-lines of an amazing system of social philosophy; but this is not the place for a study of its particular features. What interests us much more at this time is the Marxian theory of social agitation, because this is especially what has enabled him to influence decisively the progress of social development. In no single book of his is this theory comprehensively presented. Yet we find all the essential elements of it in the celebrated "Communistic Manifesto" of Marx and Engels in the year 1847, which was presented as a programme to the "League of the Righteous" in Brussels; they accepted it and thus changed themselves into a "League of Communists." The "Communistic Manifesto" contained the principles of a philosophy of history, upon which the programme of a party is based. Its leading thoughts are these:
All history is the story of a struggle betweenclasses; the history of the present is the story of the struggle between the middle class and the proletariat. The making of classes results from certain economic conditions of production and distribution, through which also social control is determined. "Immanent" forces (the expression does not occur in the "Communistic Manifesto," but becomes later a technical term) constantly revolutionise the conditions of production, and thus of all economic matters. In our time this organic change is accomplished with especial quickness, because the tremendous forces of production created by the middle class grow too fast. Thus on the one side the conditions of existence under the present capitalistic economy quickly deteriorate; upon the other side the conditions of existence tend to a social organisation without classes upon a basis of common production and communal ownership of the means of production (this formula, also, is not found in the "Communistic Manifesto," in which merely the abolition of private property is presented; but our phrase first occurs two years later, in the history of class struggle in France). This deterioration appears in the crises in which society feels itself "suddenly thrown back into a conditionof momentary barbarism," and in the emergence of pauperism in which it plainly appears now
"that the middle class is unfit longer to remain the ruling class of society and to enforce the life condition of itself as the ruling law; it is unfit to rule because it is incapable of securing subsistence to its slave within the terms of his slavery, because it is compelled to let him sink into a position in which it must support him instead of being supported by him."
"that the middle class is unfit longer to remain the ruling class of society and to enforce the life condition of itself as the ruling law; it is unfit to rule because it is incapable of securing subsistence to its slave within the terms of his slavery, because it is compelled to let him sink into a position in which it must support him instead of being supported by him."
But the conditions of the new social order (this thought also is merely suggested in the "Communistic Manifesto" and only later, especially by Engels, is it developed) are created by an enormous increase of the forces of production and by the "communisation of the processes of production" which goes hand in hand with this increase—that is, the interweaving and combination of the individual acts of production, and transition to co-operative methods, etc.
The most important consequence now for our question is this: the economic revolution finds its spontaneous expression in opposition and struggle of classes, the "modern social movement"—that is, the movement of the proletariat is nothing but the organisation of those elements of society which are called to breakthe rule of the middle class and "to conquer the new social forces of production." This they can accomplish only by "abolishing their own private appropriation as it has thus far existed and with it the whole idea of private property"; that is, in place of private possession and private production to establish communism.
The "communists"—that is, the political party for which the "Communistic Manifesto" serves as a confession of faith—are only a part of the warring proletariat; they form that part which is conscious of the process of development. This party
"distinguishes itself from the other proletarian elements only in that on the one side it emphasises and enforces in the different national campaigns of the proletariat the interests of the proletariat as a whole, and on the other hand in that in the different stages of development through which the struggle between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie passes, invariably it represents the interests of the general proletarian movement.""The theories of the communists rest in no way upon ideas or principles which have been discovered by this or that reformer. They are only general expressions of the actual conditions in an existing struggle of classes, an agitation which is happening historically before our very eyes."
"distinguishes itself from the other proletarian elements only in that on the one side it emphasises and enforces in the different national campaigns of the proletariat the interests of the proletariat as a whole, and on the other hand in that in the different stages of development through which the struggle between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie passes, invariably it represents the interests of the general proletarian movement."
"The theories of the communists rest in no way upon ideas or principles which have been discovered by this or that reformer. They are only general expressions of the actual conditions in an existing struggle of classes, an agitation which is happening historically before our very eyes."
The thoughts here expressed, as I have already indicated in several places in this review, have been later to some extent more precisely worded, have been to some decree enlarged and developed, have been in part modified; but the ground-lines of Marx's theory of the social movement are already revealed in them all. In what now lies their historic importance? How shall we explain their tremendous power of conquest? Whence comes their continuance already through a half-century?—and all this, in spite of the fact that, as I believe, this theory errs in essential points, and that it can scarcely indeed sustain itself as a whole!
Before I now attempt to give the answer I must make one thing clear. What Marx and Engels have left to us as an intellectual inheritance, whether we consider their writings from 1842, or even only those after 1847, seems at first as if it were a confused mass of varied thought-material. Only he who looks closely and who takes the trouble to enter into the spirit of the men can bring the separated lines of thought into order. Such an one finds that some fundamental ideas run through the writings of Marx and Engels during the whole period of their literary activity; also that atdifferent times quite different lines of thought run across and confuse the system which, as a whole, is built up upon these great ideas. Most exponents of the Marxian teaching, especially those representing the middle class, have made the mistake of not separating the essential from the accidental, and have as a result not been able to do justice to the historic significance of these theories. Naturally it is easier to start with the contradictions and inconsistencies of an author, rather than to make tedious tracing of what is of lasting worth; it is easy, but not right, to content oneself with detached and apparent blunders and mistakes in the teaching of an important thinker, in order to reject this teachingin toto. Marxism, as no other teaching, offers itself for such treatment; partly because many of his theories awake the passions of the critic and hence must in advance prevent calm judgment, partly because in fact, as already said, it presents a most clumsy confusion of contradictory teachings. This is shown in the fact that even now, after his thoughts have lived through a half-century, we must still exert ourselves to get at the real meaning and the deep importance of his teaching. This is due especially to the"middle-class" critics of Marx; but it is also because of the members of his own party. I recall the fact that the fundamental principle of Marx's economic system—the theory of value—has become an object of fruitful discussion as lately as two years ago. At that time I attempted to bring into use this method which I have just specified as the only true one for such a peculiar formation as the Marxian teaching; I asked how the parts of Marx's theory which stand in such opposition to each other could be reconciled, in order to bring out the sense which so earnest a thinker must surely have laid underneath. At that time the aged Engels could bear witness that I had about "hit the right mark," but that he could not endorse all that I had "introduced" into the Marxian teaching. Other critics thought at the time that nothing more would be heard of Marx's teaching concerning value. Perhaps they are right; but if Marx'sTheory of Valueis a scientific work, it can be such only in my interpretation.
I have thus spoken in order to show you how I stand concerning Marx's theory of the social movement. I make most earnest effort to separate it from all extraneous matter, tocomprehend it in its essential points, and so to present these essentials in such way that they shall be consistent with reality. At the same time I emphasise the spirit of Marx's theories, and only hope that it is truly the soul of Marx, and not of myself, "in which the times reflect themselves."
I shall attempt to speak later concerning what I look upon as confusing "non-essentials" of the theory; I speak now of what I think to be the historically important essence—theκτῆμα ἐς ἀεί—of Marx's theory of the social movement.
First and before all, it is a scientific accomplishment of the first order to give prominence to the historic conception of the social movement and the inner relationship of the "economic," "social," and "political" manifestations and precedents. Marx applies the evolution idea to the social movement. Other conspicuous men have tried to consider socialism and the social movement as in the flow of historic life—I think, for example, of Lorenz von Stein, that writer who, perhaps, has most influenced Marx. But no one has so clearly, illuminatively, effectively shown these historical relations. That political revolutions and agitations arefundamentally great displacements of social classes is a truth enunciated before the time of Marx; but no one has ever presented it in so impressive a way. He takes economic revolutions as his starting-point, in order to explain the creation and the conflict of social classes; and inMisère(175), before the "Communistic Manifesto," he had already said: "il n'y a jamais de mouvement politique qui ne soit social en même temps." But therewith—and it is this that is of importance to us—is the proletariat brought to full self-consciousness and taught to know itself in its historic relations. Out of this historic conception arises, for Marx and for the proletariat, with certainty the main points of the programme and the tactics of the social movement. They are only "a general expression of actual relations in an existing struggle of classes," as the "Communistic Manifesto" has expressed it somewhat vaguely. To state it more exactly, the theory of Marx affirms the identification of that which unconsciously and instinctively had arisen as a proletarian idea with that which is actually observable as the result of economic development. As to tactical management, however, the idea was decisive that revolutionscould not be forced, but were the outgrowth of specific economic antecedents; while class strife in both its forms—the political, of which the "Communistic Manifesto" speaks chiefly, and the economic, for which inMisèreMarx breaks a lance—is recognised as the instrument which the proletariat must use in order to protect its interests during the process of economic transformation. Thus he formulates that which every intelligent proletarian movement must recognise as its fundamental principles. Socialism as a goal, struggle between classes as the way towards it, cease to be merely personal opinions, and are understood as necessary.
This elementary conception, that these two main pillars of the modern social movement are not merely arbitrary creations, but are unavoidable products of the historic development, is even to-day so little accepted that it is worth our while to spend a little time upon it.
First, it must be noticed that in all the writing's of Marx and Engels, whose "Anti-Duehring" always constitutes a necessary complement to all the theories of Marx, there is no proof of the asserted "necessity" of the socialmovement which fully satisfies the demands of our day as to scientific method. It is known that Marx stands upon the Hegelian dialectic, out of date now. What we demand is a psychological founding of social happening, and for this Marx cares little.
Now it seems to me easy to fill this gap. I shall attempt it so far as the limitations of time allow.
Why must the ideal of every proletarian movement be necessarily a democratic collectivism—that is, the communisation of the means of production? It seems to me that the following considerations contain the answer to the question.
The modern social movement strives after that which is represented by the battle-cry, "The emancipation of the proletariat." But this has two phases, an ideal and a material. Ideally a social class can consider itself as "emancipated" only when it as a class is economically and politically dominant or at least independent; the proletariat, that now finds itself in economic dependence upon capital, can only become "emancipated" by throwing off this connection. Perhaps we can conceive of the proletariat as using employersas agents to carry on the work of production. But even then the management will be no longer in the hands of the employers as to-day, but of the proletariat as master of the situation. So long as this supremacy is not reached in any such form, there can be no thought of an "emancipation" of a class. Nor can we speak of this "emancipation" in a material sense, so long as those conditions obtain which to-day, from a class standpoint, are looked upon as marking a social inferiority and are derived from the capitalistic social system. If the proletariat sets an aim clearly before itself, this goal can only be, from the class standpoint, the overthrow of this capitalistic order. Now this overthrow is possible in either of two ways. Either operations on a large scale, which have replaced the earlier and smaller methods of production, can be so reconstituted as that large interlocal and international production shall be again narrowed and localised—in which case the overthrow of the capitalistic order will be simply a retrogression to the "middle-class" system. Or this present order can be conquered in such a way that the existing forms of production on a large scale shall be retained—then the resultswill be socialism. There is no third possibility. If the proletariat does not vanquish capitalism by a return to the smaller forms of operation, it can accomplish this only by putting a socialistic organisation in place of the capitalistic. And further: the proletariat can attach itself only to the latter method, because its whole existence is interwoven with the system of production on a large scale; it is indeed only the shadow of the system, it exists only where this system rules. Therefore we can say that socialism as the aim of the social movement arises fundamentally and necessarily out of the economic situation of the proletariat. The whole demonstration falls to the ground in a moment, wherever a tendency to the development of proletarian production on a large scale does not exist in economic life.
What I would here show, let me say again, is the necessity of the ideal; but this must not be confused with the certainty of its realisation. In order to prove this, it would be necessary to present other considerations, which lie far from our subject. Thus, whether any such realisation of the ideal is scientifically possible seems to be doubtful. For this would not be proved even if it should be demonstrated thatwhat the proletariat desires and strives for has been provided in the course of social development. I shall have opportunity later to draw attention to this, that the conception of socialism as a need of nature, and thus "necessarily" to be realised, does not rest upon clear thought.
What we must now hold fast as the result of our investigation is this, and it is a true Marxian thought, that social ideals are only utopianism so long as they are merely evolved in the head of the theorist. They obtain reality only when they are united to actual economic conditions, when they arise out of these conditions. The possibility of realising the good and beautiful is enclosed within the sheath of economic necessity. This covering, created out of capitalistic and proletarian conditions and historic economic circumstances, is of such a nature that the ideal of proletarian exertion can only lie in the direction of a socialistic order of society.
But why must the way towards the realisation of this aim lie through class strife? To this we answer in brief: modern society presents itself to us as an artificial medley of numerous social classes—that is, of certaingroups of persons whose homogeneity arises out of their attachment to specific forms or spheres of economic life. We distinguish the "junker," as representative of feudal agrarianism, from the bourgeoisie, the representatives of capital; we distinguish the "middle class," the representatives of local production and distribution, from the modern wage-worker or the proletariat, etc. Each one of these groups of economic interests has its special adherents in the professional classes of society among the officials, scholars, artists, who stand outside the economic life, but who unite themselves by birth or position to one or another of the social classes.
This attachment to a social class works decisively in two directions. It implants in the mind of each individual member of a class the conception of the world and life characteristic of that group of men whose thoughts and feelings tend to become identical through the uniformity of the external circumstances that control them; similarity of aspiration and ideal is created. Further, this attachment accomplishes a positive control over the individual in the maintenance of that which is represented by the class—its social position as truly as itsmaterial interests; it creates what we may call class interest.
Everywhere and spontaneously there is developed a distinction between classes, and class interest is involved in this. The upholding of this class interest leads throughout to class opposition. Not always does the upholding of a class standard involve necessarily collision with the interests of other classes; at times an identity of interests arises; but this harmony never lasts. The interest of the "junker" must at a certain point come into conflict with that of the burgher, that of the capitalist with that of the proletariat, that of the hand-worker and tradesman with that of the large capitalist; for each class strives naturally for itself, and by that very fact excludes other interests. Then comes to pass the saying: