THE DEVELOPMENT OF NATIONAL PECULIARITIES
"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-class is 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 which gave 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 to 935,000 tons,
in 1883 to 65,000,000 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. The _tertius gaudens_ in
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 the consideration 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, aristocratic trade-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 considerable _lucrum cessans_ was 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, they would 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 the _elan_ of 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
scheme for 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 of agitation 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 and companies 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 influence in 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--which has 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 in _ateliers_, 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
French _ouvrier_, in Lyons directly called _maître 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 must look 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."
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 availability
of 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 the _ordre 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 form of 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 to independent
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, the _élan_,
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
proletarian disturbances--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 radical politics; 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 the dreary 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 man _de l'Institut_ has 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 to the 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 particular objects 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 greatest leader 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."
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 social movement
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.