The organizations that are commonly and distinctively known as machines

are those belonging to the two great recognized parties, or to their

factional subdivisions; and the reason why the word machine has come to

be used, to a certain extent, as a term of opprobrium is to be found

in the fact that these organizations are now run by the leaders very

largely as business concerns to benefit themselves and their followers,

with little regard to the community at large. This is natural enough.

The men having control and doing all the work have gradually come to

have the same feeling about politics that other men have about the

business of a merchant or manufacturer; it was too much to expect that

if left entirely to themselves they would continue disinterestedly to

work for the benefit of others. Many a machine politician who is to-day

a most unwholesome influence in our politics is in private life quite

as respectable as anyone else; only he has forgotten that his business

affects the state at large, and, regarding it as merely his own private

concern, he has carried into it the same selfish spirit that actuates

in business matters the majority of the average mercantile community.

A merchant or manufacturer works his business, as a rule, purely for

his own benefit, without any regard whatever for the community at

large. The merchant uses all his influence for a low tariff, and the

manufacturer is even more strenuously in favor of protection, not at

all from any theory of abstract right, but because of self-interest.

Each views such a political question as the tariff, not from the

standpoint of how it will affect the nation as a whole, but merely

from that of how it will affect him personally. If a community were in

favor of protection, but nevertheless permitted all the governmental

machinery to fall into the hands of importing merchants, it would

be small cause for wonder if the latter shaped the laws to suit

themselves, and the chief blame, after all, would rest with the supine

and lethargic majority which failed to have enough energy to take

charge of their own affairs. Our machine politicians, in actual life

act in just this same way; their actions are very often dictated by

selfish motives, with but little regard for the people at large though,

like the merchants, they often hold a very high standard of honor on

certain points; they therefore need continually to be watched and

opposed by those who wish to see good government. But, after all, it is

hardly to be wondered at that they abuse power which is allowed to fall

into their hands owing to the ignorance or timid indifference of those

who by rights should themselves keep it.

In a society properly constituted for true democratic government--in

a society such as that seen in many of our country towns, for

example--machine rule is impossible. But in New York, as well as

in most of our other great cities, the conditions favor the growth

of ring or boss rule. The chief causes thus operating against good

government are the moral and mental attitudes towards politics assumed

by different sections of the voters. A large number of these are

simply densely ignorant, and, of course, such are apt to fall under

the influence of cunning leaders, and even if they do right, it is

by hazard merely. The criminal class in a great city is always of

some size, while what may be called the potentially criminal class is

still larger. Then there is a great class of laboring men, mostly

of foreign birth or parentage, who at present both expect too much

from legislation and yet at the same time realize too little how

powerfully though indirectly they are affected by a bad or corrupt

government. In many wards the overwhelming majority of the voters do

not realize that heavy taxes fall ultimately upon them, and actually

view with perfect complacency burdens laid by their representatives

upon the tax-payers, and, if anything, approve of a hostile attitude

towards the latter--having a vague feeling of animosity towards them

as possessing more than their proper proportion of the world’s good

things, and sharing with most other human beings the capacity to bear

with philosophic equanimity ills merely affecting one’s neighbors. When

powerfully roused on some financial, but still more on some sentimental

question, this same laboring class will throw its enormous and usually

decisive weight into the scale which it believes inclines to the right;

but its members are often curiously and cynically indifferent to

charges of corruption against favorite heroes or demagogues, so long

as these charges do not imply betrayal of their own real or fancied

interests. Thus an alderman or assemblyman representing certain wards

may make as much money as he pleases out of corporations without

seriously jeopardizing his standing with his constituents; but if he

once, whether from honest or dishonest motives, stands by a corporation

when the interests of the latter are supposed to conflict with those

of “the people,” it is all up with him. These voters are, moreover,

very emotional; they value in a public man what we are accustomed

to consider virtues only to be taken into account when estimating

private character. Thus, if a man is open-handed and warm-hearted,

they consider it as a fair offset to his being a little bit shaky

when it comes to applying the eighth commandment to affairs of state.

I have more than once heard the statement, “He is very liberal to

the poor,” advanced as a perfectly satisfactory answer to the charge

that a certain public man was corrupt. Moreover, working men, whose

lives are passed in one unceasing round of narrow and monotonous

toil, are not unnaturally inclined to pay heed to the demagogues and

professional labor advocates who promise if elected to try to pass

laws to better their condition; they are hardly prepared to understand

or approve the American doctrine of government, which is that the

state cannot ordinarily attempt to better the condition of a man or a

set of men, but can merely see that no wrong is done him or them by

anyone else, and that all alike have a fair chance in the struggle

for life--a struggle wherein, it may as well at once be freely though

sadly acknowledged, very many are bound to fail, no matter how ideally

perfect any given system of government may be.

Of course it must be remembered that all these general statements are

subject to an immense number of individual exceptions; there are tens

of thousands of men who work with their hands for their daily bread

and yet put into actual practice that sublime virtue of disinterested

adherence to the right, even when it seems likely merely to benefit

others, and those others better off than they themselves are; for they

vote for honesty and cleanliness, in spite of great temptation to

do the opposite, and in spite of their not seeing how any immediate

benefit will result to themselves.

REASONS FOR THE NEGLECT OF PUBLIC DUTIES BY RESPECTABLE MEN IN EASY

CIRCUMSTANCES.

This class is composed of the great bulk of the men who range from

well-to-do up to very rich; and of these the former generally and the

latter almost universally neglect their political duties, for the most

part rather pluming themselves upon their good conduct if they so

much as vote on election day. This largely comes from the tremendous

wear and tension of life in our great cities. Moreover, the men of

small means with us are usually men of domestic habits; and this very

devotion to home, which is one of their chief virtues, leads them to

neglect their public duties. They work hard, as clerks, mechanics,

small tradesmen, etc., all day long, and when they get home in the

evening they dislike to go out. If they do go to a ward meeting, they

find themselves isolated, and strangers both to the men whom they meet

and to the matter on which they have to act; for in the city a man is

quite as sure to know next to nothing about his neighbors as in the

country he is to be intimately acquainted with them. In the country

the people of a neighborhood, when they assemble in one of their

local conventions, are already well acquainted, and therefore able to

act together with effect; whereas in the city, even if the ordinary

citizens do come out, they are totally unacquainted with one another,

and are as helplessly unable to oppose the disciplined ranks of the

professional politicians as is the case with a mob of freshmen in

one of our colleges when in danger of being hazed by the sophomores.

Moreover, the pressure of competition in city life is so keen that men

often have as much as they can do to attend to their own affairs, and

really hardly have the leisure to look after those of the public. The

general tendency everywhere is toward the specialization of functions,

and this holds good as well in politics as elsewhere.

The reputable private citizens of small means thus often neglect to

attend to their public duties because to do so would perhaps interfere

with their private business. This is bad enough, but the case is

worse with the really wealthy, who still more generally neglect

these same duties, partly because not to do so would interfere with

their pleasure, and partly from a combination of other motives, all

of them natural but none of them creditable. A successful merchant,

well dressed, pompous, self-important, unused to any life outside of

the counting-room, and accustomed because of his very success to be

treated with deferential regard, as one who stands above the common run

of humanity, naturally finds it very unpleasant to go to a caucus or

primary where he has to stand on an equal footing with his groom and

day-laborers, and indeed may discover that the latter, thanks to their

faculty for combination, are rated higher in the scale of political

importance than he is himself. In all the large cities of the North the

wealthier, or, as they would prefer to style themselves, the “upper”

classes, tend distinctly towards the bourgeois type; and an individual

in the bourgeois stage of development, while honest, industrious, and

virtuous, is also not unapt to be a miracle of timid and short-sighted

selfishness. The commercial classes are only too likely to regard

everything merely from the standpoint of “Does it pay?” and many a

merchant does not take any part in politics because he is short-sighted

enough to think that it will pay him better to attend purely to making

money, and too selfish to be willing to undergo any trouble for the

sake of abstract duty; while the younger men of this type are too much

engrossed in their various social pleasures to be willing to give

their time to anything else. It is also unfortunately true, especially

throughout New England and the Middle States, that the general tendency

among people of culture and high education has been to neglect and even

to look down upon the rougher and manlier virtues, so that an advanced

state of intellectual development is too often associated with a

certain effeminacy of character. Our more intellectual men often shrink

from the raw coarseness and the eager struggle of political life as if

they were women. Now, however refined and virtuous a man may be, he is

yet entirely out of place in the American body-politic unless he is

himself of sufficiently coarse fibre and virile character to be more

angered than hurt by an insult or injury; the timid good form a most

useless as well as a most despicable portion of the community. Again,

when a man is heard objecting to taking part in politics because it is

“low,” he may be set down as either a fool or a coward: it would be

quite as sensible for a militiaman to advance the same statement as an

excuse for refusing to assist in quelling a riot. Many cultured men

neglect their political duties simply because they are too delicate to

have the element of “strike back” in their natures, and because they

have an unmanly fear of being forced to stand up for their own rights

when threatened with abuse or insult. Such are the conditions which

give the machine men their chance; and they have been able to make the

most possible out of this chance,--first, because of the perfection to

which they have brought their machinery, and, second, because of the

social character of their political organizations.

ORGANIZATION AND WORK OF THE MACHINES.

The machinery of any one of our political bodies is always rather

complicated; and its politicians invariably endeavor to keep it so,

because, their time being wholly given to it, they are able to become

perfectly familiar with all its workings, while the average outsider

becomes more and more helpless in proportion as the organization is

less and less simple. Besides some others of minor importance, there

are at present in New York three great political organizations, _viz._,

those of the regular Republicans, of the County Democracy,[10] and of

Tammany Hall, that of the last being perhaps the most perfect, viewed

from a machine standpoint. Although with wide differences in detail,

all these bodies are organized upon much the same general plan; and

one description may be taken in the rough, as applying to all. There

is a large central committee, composed of numerous delegates from the

different assembly districts, which decides upon the various questions

affecting the party as a whole in the county and city; and then there

are the various organizations in the assembly districts themselves,

which are the real sources of strength, and with which alone it is

necessary to deal. There are different rules for the admission to the

various district primaries and caucuses of the voters belonging to the

respective parties; but in almost every case the real work is done and

the real power held by a small knot of men, who in turn pay a greater

or less degree of fealty to a single boss.

The mere work to be done on election day and in preparing for it

forms no slight task. There is an association in each assembly or

election district, with its president, secretary, treasurer, executive

committee, etc.; these call the primaries and caucuses, arrange the

lists of the delegates to the various nominating conventions, raise

funds for campaign purposes, and hold themselves in communication

with their central party organizations. At the primaries in each

assembly district a full set of delegates is chosen to nominate

assemblymen and aldermen, while others are chosen to go to the

State, county, and congressional conventions. Before election day

many thousands of complete sets of the party ticket are printed,

folded, and put together, or, as it is called, “bunched.” A single

bundle of these ballots is then sent to every voter in the district,

while thousands are reserved for distribution at the polls. In every

election precinct--there are probably twenty or thirty in each

assembly district--a captain and from two to a dozen subordinates

are appointed.[11] These have charge of the actual giving out of the

ballots at the polls. On election day they are at their places long

before the hour set for voting; each party has a wooden booth, looking

a good deal like a sentry-box, covered over with flaming posters

containing the names of their nominees, and the “workers” cluster

around these as centres. Every voter as he approaches is certain to be

offered a set of tickets; usually these sets are “straight,” that is,

contain all the nominees of one party, but frequently crooked work will

be done, and some one candidate will get his own ballots bunched with

the rest of those of the opposite party. Each captain of a district

is generally paid a certain sum of money, greater or less according to

his ability as a politician or according to his power of serving the

boss or machine. Nominally this money goes in paying the subordinates

and in what are vaguely termed “campaign expenses,” but as a matter of

fact it is in many instances simply pocketed by the recipient; indeed,

very little of the large sums of money annually spent by candidates to

bribe voters actually reaches the voters supposed to be bribed. The

money thus furnished is procured either by subscriptions from rich

outsiders, or by assessments upon the candidates themselves; formerly

much was also obtained from office-holders, but this is now prohibited

by law. A great deal of money is also spent in advertising, placarding

posters, paying for public meetings, and organizing and uniforming

members to take part in some huge torchlight procession--this last

particular form of spectacular enjoyment being one peculiarly dear to

the average American political mind. Candidates for very lucrative

positions are often assessed really huge sums, in order to pay for

the extravagant methods by which our canvasses are conducted. Before

a legislative committee of which I was a member, the Register of New

York County blandly testified under oath that he had forgotten whether

his expenses during his canvass had been over or under fifty thousand

dollars. It must be remembered that even now--and until recently

the evil was very much greater--the rewards paid to certain public

officials are out of all proportion to the services rendered; and in

such cases the active managing politicians feel that they have a right

to exact the heaviest possible toll from the candidate, to help pay

the army of hungry heelers who do their bidding. Thus, before the same

committee the County Clerk testified that his income was very nearly

eighty thousand a year, but with refreshing frankness admitted that his

own position was practically merely that of a figure-head, and that all

the work was done by his deputy, on a small fixed salary. As the County

Clerk’s term is three years, he should nominally have received nearly

a quarter of a million dollars; but as a matter of fact two thirds of

the money probably went to the political organizations with which he

was connected. The enormous emoluments of such officers are, of course,

most effective in debauching politics. They bear no relation whatever

to the trifling quantity of work done, and the chosen candidate readily

recognizes what is the exact truth,--namely, that the benefit of his

service is expected to enure to his party allies, and not to the

citizens at large. Thus, one of the county officers who came before

the above-mentioned committee, testified with a naïve openness which

was appalling, in answer to what was believed to be a purely formal

question as to whether he performed his public duties faithfully,

that he did so perform them whenever they did not conflict with his

political duties!--meaning thereby, as he explained, attending to his

local organizations, seeing politicians, fixing primaries, bailing

out those of his friends (apparently by no means few in number) who

got hauled up before a justice of the peace, etc., etc. This man’s

statements were valuable because, being a truthful person and of such

dense ignorance that he was at first wholly unaware his testimony was

in any way remarkable, he really tried to tell things as they were;

and it had evidently never occurred to him that he was not expected by

everyone to do just as he had been doing,--that is, to draw a large

salary for himself, to turn over a still larger fund to his party

allies, and conscientiously to endeavor, as far as he could, by the

free use of his time and influence, to satisfy the innumerable demands

made upon him by the various small-fry politicians.[12]

“HEELERS.”

The “heelers,” or “workers,” who stand at the polls, and are paid

in the way above described, form a large part of the rank and file

composing each organization. There are, of course, scores of them in

each assembly district association, and, together with the almost

equally numerous class of federal, State, or local paid office-holders

(except in so far as these last have been cut out by the operations

of the civil-service reform laws), they form the bulk of the men by

whom the machine is run, the bosses of great and small degree chiefly

merely oversee the work and supervise the deeds of their henchmen.

The organization of a party in our city is really much like that of

an army. There is one great central boss, assisted by some trusted

and able lieutenants; these communicate with the different district

bosses, whom they alternately bully and assist. The district boss in

turn has a number of half-subordinates, half-allies, under him; these

latter choose the captains of the election districts, etc., and come

into contact with the common heelers. The more stupid and ignorant

the common heelers are, and the more implicitly they obey orders, the

greater becomes the effectiveness of the machine. An ideal machine has

for its officers men of marked force, cunning and unscrupulous, and

for its common soldiers men who may be either corrupt or moderately

honest, but who must be of low intelligence. This is the reason why

such a large proportion of the members of every political machine

are recruited from the lower grades of the foreign population. These

henchmen obey unhesitatingly the orders of their chiefs, both at the

primary or caucus and on election day, receiving regular rewards for

so doing, either in employment procured for them or else in money

outright. Of course it is by no means true that these men are all

actuated merely by mercenary motives. The great majority entertain also

a real feeling of allegiance towards the party to which they belong,

or towards the political chief whose fortunes they follow; and many

work entirely without pay and purely for what they believe to be right.

Indeed, an experienced politician always greatly prefers to have under

him men whose hearts are in their work and upon whose unbribed devotion

he can rely; but unfortunately he finds in most cases that their

exertions have to be seconded by others which are prompted by motives

far more mixed.

All of these men, whether paid or not, make a business of political

life and are thoroughly at home among the obscure intrigues that go to

make up so much of it; and consequently they have quite as much the

advantage when pitted against amateurs as regular soldiers have when

matched against militiamen. But their numbers, though absolutely large,

are, relatively to the entire community, so small that some other cause

must be taken into consideration in order to account for the commanding

position occupied by the machine and the machine politicians in public

life. This other determining cause is to be found in the fact that all

these machine associations have a social as well as a political side,

and that a large part of the political life of every leader or boss is

also identical with his social life.

THE SOCIAL SIDE OF MACHINE POLITICS.

American ideals, and other essays, social and political · 第 7 / 23 段