CHAPTER III

THE ANTECEDENTS OF THE SOCIAL MOVEMENT

"The great, dumb, deep-buried class lies like an Enceladus, who

in his pain, if he will complain of it, has to produce

earthquakes."--THOMAS CARLYLE, "Chartism," ix. (_Essays._

Edition, Chapman and Hall, vi., 169).

The question which now rests upon the lips of you all, since I have

indicated the lines of thought of the first socialists, is this: When

such noble minds drew the plan of a new and better world for their

suffering brethren, where was the proletariat itself, and what did it

do? What are the beginnings of the social movement which is carried on

by the masses?

The answer must be that long, very long, after much had been thought

and written concerning the condition and future of the proletariat

this element of the population yet remained completely untouched by

these new ideas, knew nothing of them, cared nothing for them; it

permitted itself to be controlled by other forces, other motives. The

systems of St. Simon, Fourier, Owen, have had little or no influence

with the masses.

As we turn to the proletariat itself and ask after its fate,--perhaps

up to the middle of our century,--we find a precursor of the social

movement which everywhere--that is, in all lands controlled by the

capitalistic economy--exhibits the same marks and is uniformly

characterised in the following way: where the movement of the masses

stands out clearly and conscious of its aim, it is not proletarian;

where it is proletarian, it is not clear and conscious of its aim.

That means, in the conscious movement in which the proletariat is

found engaged, middle-class elements direct as to the object sought:

where the proletariat undertakes to be independent, it shows all the

immaturity of the formative stages of a social class, mere instincts,

no clearly defined postulates and aims.

Those historic occurrences in which the proletariat played a role,

although they were not proletarian movements, are the well-known

revolutions which we connect with the years 1789, 1793, 1830, 1832,

1848--for I must go back into the previous century for the inner

connection. We have here movements which are essentially middle-class;

in them political liberties are sought, and, so far as the proletarian

elements are concerned, the masses fight the battles of the middle

classes, like the common soldiers who fought in feudal armies. This

fact, that we here have to do with purely middle-class movements, has

so often been mistaken by many celebrated historians, the terms

"communism" and "socialism" have been so constantly applied to those

agitations, that it is well worth our while to show the incorrectness

of this assumption. For this purpose, we must look separately at those

movements which are connected with the years thus specified, since

each one has its own characteristics.

If we present to ourselves first the real meaning of the movements of

1789 and 1793, the great French Revolution, it is clear even to those

of limited vision that the revolution of 1789 was purely a

middle-class movement, and indeed carried on by the higher part of the

middle-class. It is the struggle of the upper middle-class for the

recognition of its rights, and for relief from the privileges of the

ruling class of society--from the fetters in which it had been held by

feudal powers. It expresses this struggle in demands for equality and

freedom, but it really means from the very start a limited equality

and freedom. Look at the first, trenchant, we may call them social,

laws which were passed by the new regime of France. They are by no

means of a popular character, or partial to the working-man; we see at

the first look that they were not made by the masses for the masses,

but by an aristocratic middle-class, which places itself in sharp

opposition to the rabble. Thus the well-known _Loi martiale_ of

October 20, 1789, a riot act, gives expression to this distinction as

it speaks of the "_bons citoyens_" who must be protected by stern

police regulation against the attacks of the _gens mal intentionés_;

"when the mob does not disperse on warning, then the armed forces

shall fire." They would so control the caprices of the masses that not

a second time should a dagger find its way into the breast of an

honourable baker, when the populace without authority would

appropriate to itself the bread in the bakeries.

I think of a second important law, born out of the doctrinaire

middle-class spirit of these first years; the "Coalitions Law" of June

17, 1791. It punishes every combination of tradesworkers for the

furtherance of their "alleged" common interests, as an attempt upon

the freedom and rights of man, by a fine of five hundred livres and

the loss of citizenship for a year. This applies equally to the

employer and the working-man, we may better say the master and the

journeyman; but we all know what crying injustice this equality has

produced.

Then comes the first consolidation of the new society, the

Constitution of November 3, 1791, which, through the introduction, of

limited franchise, brings to sharp and clear expression the separation

between a ruling class of those well-to-do and a ruled class of the

"have-nothings." There are now "full citizens" and citizens of the

second class.

Thus it is clear that the revolution of 1789 was not at all a

proletarian movement. There may seem to be some doubt concerning the

agitation of 1793, for it is this, before all others, which our great

historians, as Sybel, like to specify as "communistic." The men of

Montaigne are, in their eyes, the predecessors of the social

democracy; and, indeed, quite lately in a small book published by the

Berlin Professor H. Delbrueck in the Goettingen library for

working-men, exactly this assertion is presented--that the leaders of

this social movement were true social democrats, and that in fact the

social democracy has developed no new thoughts since Saint Just and

Robespierre. I cannot recognise this assertion as correct. Let us test

it.

I assert that even the movement of 1793 was essentially

non-proletarian. We grant that in it an undercurrent of democracy

breaks forth, which the French Revolution always had; and it is this

which has misled many. This was there from the beginning. It expressed

itself already in 1789, in the elections to the States-General, and

comes finally in 1793 to its full development.

As you read through the _Cahiers_ with their _Doléances_ of the year

1789, those "papers of grievances" which the electors, especially

those of Paris and Lyons, were accustomed to hand to their

representatives, you find therein already a peculiar tone which does

not harmonise with the honeyed expressions of the men of the "tennis

court." These demands were connected with the ruling hard times, for

the winter of 1789 had been severe; and they complained because misery

could not be lessened by a free constitution. "The voice of freedom

means nothing to the heart of a miserable man who is dying of hunger."

Already they demanded bread taxes and employment, the overthrow of

Sunday rest and of feast-days. Everyone knows how this cry arises

again and again in the speeches and writings of Marat. The _Ami du

Peuple_ declaims against the "aristocrats," and desires to serve the

"people." They found out that, for the great masses of the "poor,"

freedom and equality availed nothing; and Marat thus concludes:

"Equality of rights leads to equality of enjoyment, and only upon this

basis can the idea rest quietly." Then come the taxes; the "maximum"

comes. But I ask you, does that make this movement a proletarian and

social one? Can it be that at all? Let us look merely at its

supporters! The chief centres of democratic undercurrent are, as has

been said, Lyons and Paris. In Lyons we find, indeed, a proletariat,

that of the silk industry. We have the statistics of the year 1789; at

that time there were, in the Lyons silk industry, 410 _maîtres

marchands fabricants_, 4402 _maîtres ouvriers_, 1796 _compagnons_, and

about 40,000 other workers of both sexes. We must allow that here,

without doubt, there are indeed strong proletarian interests and

instincts; yet they are veiled by the peculiar character of the Lyons

silk industry. It had at that time, and has even to-day, a strong

hold upon the lower middle-class, and to a degree upon the upper

middle-class, for two reasons. One, due to its peculiar organisation,

the fact that this work was not carried on in large manufactories but

in small workshops under the direction of independent masters, and

that this created a class of independent men, between the capitalist

and the worker, hard to move to concerted action with the proletariat.

A second reason is this, that the Lyons silk industry is a manufacture

of an article of luxury. Such industries are in their very nature,

even in the earlier times, anti-revolutionary; the men of Montaigne

would not use silk stockings. For this reason we find Lyons,

naturally, after the first enthusiasm is over, by the side of the

_Vendée_ at the head of the counter-revolution, even at the beginning

of the year 1790. In general, as Lyons becomes anti-revolutionary the

faubourgs of Paris come to the foreground; out of them new masses

spring forward, the Sans-culottes. But what kind of people are they?

Certainly there are wage-workers among them. But the majority were of

a better class; there are traces of the trades out of which they had

come or to which they yet belonged. The real mass of the

Sans-culottes was not made out of wage-workers. It was rather the

Parisian lower middle-class; it was, first, the guild-excluded master

mechanics who dwelt in the Faubourg St. Antoine and Du Temple;

secondly, the journeymen; thirdly, that element which the French call

_la boutique_, retailers, tavern-keepers, etc., an important category.

These, then, are the great hordes who clustered around Danton,

Robespierre, and Marat. And what of these leaders themselves? Of what

spirit are they children? They are, essentially, of the lower

middle-class by birth. They are extreme radicals, extreme

individualists. They are in their ideals and aims entirely unsocial

and unproletarian according to our ideas to-day. The Constitution of

1793, in Article II., proclaims as _Droits de l'Homme: Egalité,

Liberté, Surété, Propriété_. That is not proletarian and is not

socialistic; thus all the assertions of a communistic movement at that

time are thrown out. I have dwelt thus long on this revolution of 1793

in order to show how premature it is to speak of social democrats and

of a social or proletarian movement wherever there is any outcry and

disturbance.

I can but briefly touch upon other movements of this early history.

The insurrection of Babeuf, 1796, bore certainly the communistic

stamp; but, as we now know, it was without any response from the

masses, who were finally tired of revolution.

Conspicuously of the upper middle-class were the July revolution of

1830 in France and the agitation of 1848 in Germany. In both cases we

see citizenship in strife with feudal forces. Less clearly appears the

civic character of the revolution of 1832 in England, and of the

February revolution of 1848 in France, because these agitations were

directed against forms of government sustained by citizens themselves.

Yet even these movements, of 1832 in England and the February

revolution in France, are not proletarian; they are rather the

struggle of a part of the middle-class, the radicals, against another

part, the _Haute finance_. This very opposition is now to be found

again in Italy in the struggle of the North Italian industries against

the rotten, half-feudal _Haute finance_ which Crispi represents.

These are the agitations of our century which have been definite and

conscious of their aim. In all of them the proletariat has been

involved, behind all the barricades from 1789 to 1848 lie proletarian

bodies; but of all those movements of which I have thus told you, not

a single one is proletarian, or in our sense a social movement.

Where now the proletariat fights for itself and represents its own

interests we discern at first mere muttered, inarticulate sounds; and

it takes long for these tones to rise to cries, for these cries to

grow to general demands, and to become crystallised into programmes.

The first proletarian agitations--movements of the unhappy, deeply

buried mass--are, according to Carlyle's word, like the movements of

Enceladus, who as he quivers in his pain causes an earthquake. These

are movements of an entirely instinctive kind, claiming that which

lies next, and attacking that which seems to them evidently to stand

in the way. These are deeds which originally and largely assume the

form of robbery and plunder. They have as their object to injure in

some way the enemy in his power of possession. In England towards the

close of the preceding and the beginning of the present century there

was much destruction and plundering of manufactories. In the year 1812

the demolition of factories was punished in England with death, the

best proof of the frequency of the fact. In other lands we have

similar occurrences. I think of the factory-burning in Uster in

Switzerland in the year 1832, of the weavers' riots in Germany in

1840, of the Lyons silk-weavers' insurrection in France in 1831. This

last distinguishes itself from previous events of a similar character

by the fact that it assumes as its great motive the motto which indeed

we can think of as written over the portal of the proletarian

movement: _Vivre en travaillant, ou mourir en combattant!_ That is the

first timid formulation of proletarian struggle, because the

battle-cry is negatively and positively an expression of true

proletarian-socialistic effort: negatively--no one shall live who does

not work; positively--those who work shall be able to live. Thus this

is the first development of proletarian agitation: attack upon the

external and visible forms in which the opponent is incorporated--upon

the manufactories and machines because in their coming lies

competition with hand-work, upon the dwellings of the employers which

appear as the citadels of the new dictators.

It is a step in advance when, in place of the immediate and visible

object, there come into view the principles which lie behind these

things, upon which the capitalistic system of economy rests--free

competition in production. It is therefore advance in proletarian

agitation as this begins to direct itself to the abolition of modern

institutions. Thus the proletariat in England, towards the end of the

previous and the beginning of the present century, struggled long for

a revival of the Elizabethan trade law. This had specified that every

master should have only one apprentice for three workmen. The time of

apprenticeship should also be limited to seven years, the wages should

be settled by a justice of the peace. This is an instinctive clutching

after a protective barrier which seems to be disappearing. Even this

is not at first clear; but essentially we find this trait common to

all the antecedents of proletarianism, that the movements hold fast to

what was in the good old times. Thus, for example, in Germany, the

working-man's agitation of 1848 was largely an attempt to reintroduce

the old guild system. But it all belongs to the antecedent history of

the social movement, because there was no definite aim before the

proletariat.

Also to this antecedent history belongs that great and well known

movement, frequently specified as the first typical,

socialistic-proletarian agitation; I mean the Chartist movement in

England in 1837-1848. This differs from the brief outbreakings of the

masses which we have just now specified in that it was carried on

systematically for more than a decade, and it seems to us like a well

organised movement. Without doubt it is a true proletarian agitation:

if you wish so to call it, the first organised proletarian movement. It

is proletarian because the great masses of the Chartists were of the

labouring class; also, because its demands grew immediately out of the

condition of the proletariat, and it exerted itself immediately for a

material betterment of the oppressed factory-hands. Thus at that time

the maximum day's work was presented as a demand; also, let me remind

you of the celebrated phrase of the Rev. Mr. Stephens, who cried out to

the masses: "The question which concerns us here is only one of knife

and fork!" The Chartist movement is also proletarian because in it the

antagonism between labour and capital arises often and sharply. The

"government," the "ruling class," is identified with the capitalist.

This finds expression in a genuine hate against employers which at

that time possessed the masses and became a battle-cry. O'Connor's

word, "Down with the wretches who drink the blood of our children, take

pleasure in the misery of our wives, and become satiated by our sweat!"

reminds us of the phraseology of the proletarian assemblages of the

present day. Further, the demand for the right to work is thoroughly

proletarian; so also the right to a full profit from the work, to the

"increase" which flows into the pockets of the employer. A symptom of

the proletarian character of the Chartist movement is seen in its

growing indifference to political questions that do not immediately

concern it; as, for example, concerning the abolition of the corn tax.

It is interesting to see how gradually the Chartist movement became

indifferent towards the most pressing interests of the middle-class;

these, though originally included, were finally and completely thrown

overboard. Also, in the form of the struggle we find the proletarian

character. Thus, at that time the general strike appears as a means of

warfare, an idea that can rise only in a true proletarian movement. So

without doubt, for these and other reasons, we have in Chartism a

proletarian agitation. But I place it in the antecedent history,

because I miss in it the clear programme of the proletarian-social

movement, a clearly defined aim towards which it works. The only

programme of the Chartist movement is the charter, which contains no

true socialistic postulates, but only a collection of parliamentary

reforms. It is nothing other than a platform upon which a man stands

because he knows nothing better; a programme that had been taken up by

the radical middle-class democracy. It is O'Connell who transferred it

to the proletariat: "universal suffrage, secret ballot, equal

representation, payment for members of parliaments, no property

qualifications for representatives, annual parliaments." Therefore,

though the kernel of the Chartist movement seems to be proletarian and

though the spirit which rules it is proletarian, it must be

distinguished from later definite proletarian socialistic movements on

account of the uncertainty of its platform. I speak thus emphatically,

because frequently, even by such a distinguished student of English

history as Brentano, the Chartist is classed with the German social

democrat. This conception holds too largely to the external form,

which has similarity in both cases so far as these movements aspire

after political power; but it is the inner character which is the

determining feature of a social movement.

What characterises the antecedent history of the social movement

everywhere is, as I have already said, its invariable similarity.

Those agitations and exertions which I have specified as

characteristic of the earlier history are invariably similar in every

land, wherever we can speak of a social movement. But on the very

threshold, in the passage from antecedent to present history, the

differences in the social movements begin to become apparent. Unity at

the beginning; diversity as the movement develops.

I distinguish three types; and for greater simplicity I call them the

English, the French, and the German type. Under the English type of

the working-man's movement I understand that agitation which has

essentially an un-political, purely trade character. As the type of

the French movement let me specify that which I call "revolutionism"

or "Putschism," a kind of conspiracy coupled with street fights. And

as the German type I would specify the lawful parliamentary-political

working-man's agitation.

These are the three different forms in which the social movement now

grows. In them all the living germs, which in general the social

movement contains, unfold themselves to independent life, develop the

peculiar and differing principles of this agitation. We shall see

later that, after the different nations have developed their

peculiarities, the social movement has a tendency again to greater

uniformity.

* * * * *

Before we attempt to make clear these differences of national

characteristics, it is perhaps well to settle a point which is

decisive for a right understanding of the matter in general. I mean

the main position which we as scientific observers should assume

concerning this diversity of social movement. It is usual, as the

variations of the movement are presented, to make a distinction

between that which is called the healthy and normal on the one side,

and the morbid movement on the other. Further, this distinction is

usually identified with the difference between the movement in England

and that upon the Continent. The English agitation, which is

essentially a trade-union movement, they like to speak of as normal

and proper; the Continental, which is rather political, as abnormal

and improper. How shall we stand on this question? I believe that, in

this discrimination and judgment, there is a twofold error, one of

method and one of fact. When science pronounces any such judgment,

entering into the realm of human history, that is in my opinion an

overstepping of the bounds which a scientific man should place about

himself. There is presented as objective knowledge a something that is

purely subjective and merely the strong private opinion of an

interested person--quite regardless of the fact that, as Hegel once

expressed it, science always comes too late to teach a man how the

world should be. So there lies here what I call a mistake of method.

But this manner of looking at the matter involves also a mistake of

fact, in that what it specifies as the normal tendency is the most

abnormal that has ever existed, because the English social agitation

could have become what it is only through a succession of unusual

circumstances. For if we take the normal progress of modern

capitalistic development as the objective standard of measurement,

and in fact that is the only one which is of avail, then we would have

much more right to say that the Continental movement is the normal,

and the English the abnormal. I think, however, that it is more

scientific to put aside the distinction between the normal and the

abnormal, and to attempt rather to trace the causes for the different

phases of the social movement in different lands. That at least shall

be my attempt in what follows--to call attention to the variations of

social movement, and to explain the reason for these variations in

certain lands.

But what does it mean to "explain" these matters? Here also there is

needed a word of definition, because in this, alas how often, we fail.

Of course at this point we can say but little. To "explain" social

occurrences means, naturally, to uncover the sources out of which they

have sprung. It becomes necessary to trace these sources. And here we

must not allow ourselves to become unrealistic, as is too often the

case. I call any explanation of a social phenomenon unrealistic, which

derives the fact superficially from the idealistic and altruistic

motives of the persons involved, and which underestimates as

impelling forces the preponderant interests of economic life, and

which believes in miracles in the social world.

Thus, to make my point clear by an illustration, I hold that the usual

explanation of the social development in England is unrealistic, that

it cannot claim reality. According to this outline, matters in England

have developed somewhat as follows: after the proletariat for some

decades, and finally in the Chartist movement, had conducted itself in

an unruly way in struggling for its interests, about the middle of

this century it suddenly became polite, reconciled itself to the

dominant economic order, and made peace with employers, who at the

same time had become better men. All this occurred because a new

spirit had come into man, a revolution of thought had occurred, a

change from the individualistic and utilitarian view of things to a

social conception of society and of the position and obligation of the

individuals in it. The promoters and teachers of this new spirit are

supposed to be, before all, Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) and the

Christian socialists Maurice, Kingsley, Ludlow, and others. Carlyle's

teaching culminates in sentences like these: The evils which have

broken out over Europe--the French Revolution!--Chartism!--rest upon

this, that the spirit of evil rules; mammonism, selfishness,

forgetfulness of obligation. This spirit must be reformed; faith

instead of scepticism, idealism instead of mammonism, self-sacrifice

instead of selfishness, and social spirit instead of individualism

must again come into the heart of man. The individual must not be the

central point, as is the case in the eudemonistic-utilitarian

philosophy; but social aims, objective work, ideals, shall direct the

activity of man. From this conception of the fulfilment of social

obligation the relation between the proletariat and the capitalist

becomes ennobled and its harshness is relieved; the employer must

become humanised, learn to rule truly; the workman must become

manageable, learn to serve truly. Quite similarly reason the so-called

Christian socialists, save that they would derive the "new social

spirit" from the teachings of Christianity.

These teachings are said to bring forth fruit. That social spirit--who

would have thought it!--does in fact, they say, enter into the hearts

of men; the social conflict is hereby removed from the world; in place

of hate and mistrust enter love and confidence. The "social question"

is solved; at least we are upon the way to "social peace," capitalism

is saved, socialism is sloughed off.

I shall investigate later the extent to which the social facts, here

asserted, can claim reality; but assuming this--that pure harmony

rules in Albion--can such a hyper-idealistic explanation satisfy us?

Must we not introduce some more substantial causes than merely the

results of Carlyle's sermons?

Absolute proof of the one or the other conception, naturally, cannot

be had, because it is the critic's philosophy, his estimate of man,

that finally decides; Wallenstein the realist and Max the idealist can

never fully convince one another. Anyone can, through a massing of

reasons and proofs, make the truth of his assertion concerning certain

evident facts at least plausible.

I, for my part, am sceptical concerning all optimistic explanations of

history, and believe rather with Wallenstein than with Max. And as

now, forced by this ill-favoured mistrust, I look more closely at the

development in England of the matter that lies before us, I get a

picture essentially different from that which I have sketched for you

as the prevailing conception. Before all, I find but little of that

renowned "social spirit," which is said to have accomplished such

wonders. In the institutions which are characteristic of proletarian

development in England, trade-unions and brotherhoods, rules, so far

as I can see, a healthy spirit of selfishness. Perhaps there is no

social creation which is built more brutally upon selfishness than the

trade-union--necessarily so. And as I read the troubled outpourings of

the Christian socialists over the complete failure of their exertions,

I can bring them easily into harmony with other observations. But even

allowing that there is a certain effectiveness of the "social spirit,"

that it does exist, shall I believe that it is able to remove

mountains? Or shall I not venture to assume that the economic and

political development, controlled by selfishness, has strongly helped,

has created the conditions in which the social spirit could work?

All this I present in a kindly spirit. My conclusion is that I cannot

possibly be satisfied with Carlyle and his "social spirit," but must

seek a realistic explanation, for England as for other lands. And this

is indeed not difficult. Let us see how the national peculiarities of

the social movement, considering the actual facts of history, can be

understood as the necessary results of specific lines of development.

Socialism and the Social Movement in the 19th Century · 第 3 / 8 章