TENDENCIES OF THE PRESENT
"Usually a man refuses to dismiss the fool that he carries
within, and to admit any great mistake, or to acknowledge any
truth that brings him to despair."
GOETHE, _Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship_.
Who, caring at all about what is going on in these days, has not
noticed the many contradictions which are now apparent in the great
social movement? Even the inexperienced observer, or he who stands too
near to real life to have free and wide outlook, will easily see
behind these contradictions a tendency towards a unity of effort. Now
that we have obtained a right understanding of this we shall, I hope,
do justice to these differences, these contradictions--we shall be
able to comprehend them in their essence and necessity.
The sources out of which they spring are as numerous as the
contradictions themselves. How often a personal motive can, under
certain circumstances, appear as an essential difference! Morbid
self-conceit, desire for power, quarrelsomeness, caprice,
malevolence, lack of honour--innumerable traits of character give
occasion for friction and contention.
But for these the social theorist cares nothing. Only that is of
importance to him which rests upon an essential difference. And of
these also there are enough, because the causes of them are numerous.
What is here decisive is the variation in the view of world and life,
is the difference of national character, is the varying degree of
vision into the essence of social development or of understanding
concerning accepted principles, is the varying measure of ripeness and
education of the masses, is the difference in economic development in
the various lands, etc.
But I cannot possibly exhaust the points of contradiction and strife
which arise out of these manifold and effective causes. I shall here
simply present certain matters which seem to me especially important
because essentially significant. My duty as to this problem can be,
again, only that of a theorist who tries to make a clear explanation,
who desires not to work upon your will but upon your intelligence, who
does not carry in his hand the brand of agitation but the lamp of
illumination.
If I do not pay attention to some points of difference which may seem
to you of supreme importance, it is not because I do not myself
recognise this importance, but because I suppose the contradiction
that comes to expression in them to be either out of date or only
imaginary, or because I go back of them to the deeper, essential
differences. Thus, for example, the alternative, _trade unions_ or _a
working-men's party_, is either the expression of a deeper opposition
concerning which I shall later speak, or it is a question that does
not concern us in these days. Thus concerning all those
representatives of the working-men's movement who place themselves
upon the platform of legal struggle. These men know that politics and
trade unions are like the right and left legs upon which the
proletariat marches; that political part-taking is needed in order to
obtain influence upon legislation; that economic organisation is
needed in order to discipline and educate the masses. The only
question can be now as to the degree, the more or less, of the one or
the other form of social agitation;--always within the limits of legal
agitation on the part of the working men. Any such question cannot be
general; it must be decided separately in each place and case. The
economic ripeness of the masses, the degree of political freedom, and
much else, must decide.
In a similar way is another point of difference to be judged; shall
there be an independent working-men's party or not? You know, I have
already spoken to you a number of times concerning this, saying that
in England thus far there has been practically no independent
working-men's party; I have given to you the reasons why, as it seems
to me, any such party has been until now at least unnecessary, even if
the working men desired to busy themselves in political matters. The
political influence of the social movement is not dependent upon the
existence of an independent party of working men. Even that question
is not a general one; it must be decided according to local
circumstances.
If we ask now for antitheses of real importance, we are met first and
especially, to-day, by that sufficiently explained opposition which is
contained in the words _revolution_ or _evolution_, the old point of
discussion which was, is, and I believe will be, a constant feature of
social agitation; that point of separation which we traced first in
the "International," and which to-day we see revived in the opposition
of the so-called "Junger" and the anarchists against the majority of
organised labour. The reasons on account of which I think that also in
the future this discussion will not cease are as follows.
Revolutionism is, as I have shown you, a manifestation of unripeness.
A man can, in a certain sense, assert that the social movement begins
anew every moment; for every day new masses arise out of the lower
strata of the proletariat yet living in stupid unconsciousness, and
they attach themselves to the social movement. These unschooled
elements, of course, in their part-taking show the characteristics of
the social movement itself in its beginnings. They find their natural
leaders in the disinherited citizens of the day, like Catiline of old,
mostly young men who have nothing to lose and who try to substitute a
fiery enthusiasm for theoretic insight and practical judgment. The
process which we have watched for a decade is one which must ever
again be repeated; the maturer elements are absorbed and disappear,
new hordes of revolutionists arise, and the process of absorption by
the riper, evolutionary, elements begins anew. Thus we see two
opposing phases of the development of social agitation that play their
part at the same time in different spheres of the proletariat. So far
as can be seen, there has been thus far an uninterrupted progress in
the absorption of the unripe revolutionary elements by the
evolutionists.
But even here, where the idea of evolution, consciously or
unconsciously, obtains recognition as the basis of the social
movement, we meet questions, many of which, as it seems to me, arise
because of a false conception of the essence of social evolution.
Although I have had opportunity at different times to show what social
evolution is, at least in a general way, let me here repeat concisely
what I understand by this idea; for a right comprehension of this
point is all-important. Social evolution, and the conception of the
social movement as such an evolution, rest upon the thought that we
find ourselves in a continued condition of economic and thus social
change, and that specific social interests and the necessary relations
of mastery are connected with each change; thus in proportion as the
evolution proceeds and as the activities of the interested groups
develop, the balance of power becomes displaced, with the result that
the ruling classes are slowly replaced by other classes that reach
control. Here also lies at bottom the thought that the division of
power at any given time is truly the expression of economic relations,
and is no merely accidental and artificial work; that this power can
only be displaced gradually, and only as the economic relations are
changed, and as at the same time the personal and subjective
conditions and the characteristics of the aspiring classes are
developed. In a word, social evolution is a gradual achievement of
power, the creation of a new condition of society, corresponding to
the overthrow of economic relations and the transformation and
schooling of character.
Among the evolutionists differences have emerged owing to a confusion
of the terms "quietism" and "evolution." Especially among the Marxists
has the thought spread, that evolution is so entirely a process of
nature, independent of human activity, that the individual must let
his hands rest in his lap and must wait until the ripened fruit drops.
This quietist and, as I believe, pseudo-Marxist idea has no real
connection with the inner thought of evolution. Its fundamental
mistake lies in the fact that all the occurrences in social life are
carried out by living men, and that men complete the process of
development by placing aims before themselves and by striving to
realise these aims.
The standpoints of the social theorist and of him who deals
practically in social life are entirely different; but men constantly
interchange the two. For the theorist, social development is a
necessary sequence of cause and effect, as he sees it in the shaping
of life compulsorily by the motives of the persons involved; and these
motives themselves he tries to understand in their limitations. For
him social life is a process rather of the past. But for the man who
deals practically in social life, it lies in the future. What the
theorist understands as the working of specified causes is, to the
practical man, an object lying in the future which his will should
help to accomplish. This very will is a necessary element in the
causation of social happening. And this will, conditioned as it may
be, is the highest personal possession of man in action. As the social
theorist seeks to show as necessary specific tendencies of the will,
and with them specific developments of the social life, he can do
this with the self-evident limitation that the energy of the
practical man in creating and accomplishing these efforts of the will
does not fail. If for any reason, for example through the pressure of
quietistic sentiment, this energy should be lessened, the most
important link in the assumed chain of causes would drop out, and the
development would take an entirely different course. It is a great
mistake to apply unqualifiedly to social life the idea of a process in
accordance with natural law; for example, to say that socialism must
come by a "necessity of nature." Socialism has nothing to do with any
such necessity. Thus, for example, we cannot see why the development
of capitalism should not lead just as well to the overthrow of modern
culture. And it must surely take this course if the leaders of advance
do not develop during the transformation of the social life the
necessary qualities for a new order of society, if they allow
themselves to sink into a marasmus or quietism. For them, all social
happening is only a condition to be created: and in order to
accomplish this in the future they need an energy of resolution.
In close connection with the point of which we have just spoken
stands another matter, which also in the last analysis depends upon a
right understanding of the essence of social evolution. I refer to the
confusion of "ideal" and "programme"--the substitution of politics for
idealism. I mean this: superficial evolutionists, especially in the
ranks of the Marxists, are inclined to look with supreme contempt upon
idealists and enthusiasts, and to rest only upon practical politics;
they emphasise the rational to the exclusion of the ideal. That is a
conception which does not at all harmonise with the real meaning of
evolution. For evolution wants its highest social ideals to be
realised, but these are founded only upon postulates essentially
ethical. To realise these ideals it is necessary to become inspired,
to kindle a heart's glow, to develop a fire of enthusiasm. The warming
sun must shed its beams, if all is not to go under and become
darkened--with danger of the annihilation of all life. The word of the
dying St. Simon, with which he took departure from his favourite
scholar Rodriguez, is eternally true: "Never forget, my friend, that a
man must have enthusiasm in order to accomplish great things." When
this idealism and enthusiasm disappear from a movement, when its
impetus is lost, when it passes into a littleness of opportunism, into
an emptiness of small politics, it dies like a body without life. And
it is certainly one of the most unpleasant traits of many of the
modern representatives of the proletarian movement, that in the dusty
atmosphere of common politics they have lost their enthusiasm and have
sunk to the level of political malcontents.
But on the other side, we must not confuse idealism with fantasy or
utopism. Enthusiasm for an object should be combined with common
sense. In the one is warmth, in the other clearness; in the one lies
the ideal, in the other the programme, that will offer ways and means
for reaching the end.
Only when we learn to distinguish between these two fundamental
thoughts shall we be able to unite ideal enthusiasm with practical
common sense. For as the confusion of programme with ideal tends on
the one side to a decline into useless commonplace, so on the other
side it leads to a crippling of practical activity. But he who learns
to distinguish the road from the goal will see that tireless exertion
is needed in order to press towards the mark. An understanding of the
importance and necessity of gradual reform is only awakened as a
deeper insight into the worth and essence of the ideal is obtained.
It must be allowed that a certain contradiction will remain in any
full understanding of the evolution idea in a social movement. We
cannot avoid the fact that the sceptical pessimist stands by the side
of the light-hearted optimist; that there will always be some who hope
for a speedy entrance into the promised land, while others are of the
opinion that the march thereto lies through the wilderness and will
last long. Hence the differences of position that men take regarding
what we call practical reforms. Men who believe that we are about to
move into a new building will not be willing to try to improve the old
structure; but those who think that the new edifice may be long in
rising will be contented to live for a while longer as comfortably as
possible in the old structure. This contradiction is in the nature of
man. It will continue ineradicable. It is enough for a man to be
conscious of its existence.
What we have learned to recognise thus far of antithesis rests upon
essentially different conceptions of the essence of social
development or upon different interpretations of one of these
conceptions--the evolutionary. Let me now, in a few words, speak of a
matter which rests upon the different interpretations--at least when
they arise to consciousness--which men place upon the progress and the
direction of social development. This contradiction rests upon a
variation of ideal, and consequently of programme; and it may be
expressed in the antithesis _democratic or socialistic_. In order to
understand properly this most important contradiction, which to-day
stands as the central point of discussion and which finds its acutest
expression in the exciting "agrarian question," I must remind you of
something said heretofore--at that hour when I spoke to you concerning
the necessary limitation of the proletarian-socialistic ideal. You
remember that there I specified as a necessary condition for the
development of socialism as the object of the modern social movement,
the previous development of capitalism and with it the impoverishment
of the masses. There must be a thorough proletarian condition.
But now consider the following. When the proletariat sets up this
object upon the basis of its economic conditions of existence, how
will the proletariat conduct itself with all those strata of society
who have not this same basis of economic existence? What will be the
relation of the proletariat to those masses who are not yet made
proletarian in character--as, for example, the lower middle-classes?
And there is a question yet more important--What will be the relation
of the proletariat to that part of the people, the _demos_, who cannot
possibly ever have a tendency towards becoming proletarian? Here
arises the great dilemma, and this is the deep contradiction which
comes here to expression: Shall the aim of the proletariat remain
essentially and preponderantly proletarian, or shall it become on the
whole democratic? And further, if the working-men's party will
interest itself in all these component parts of the _demos_, how shall
the proletariat conduct itself with them? If there is to be a general
democratic "people's party," what then becomes of the proletarian
programme? For this is clear: the whole reason for the existence of
socialistic agitation, as it is to-day attempted, with the cry of a
"need of nature" in the economic development, falls to the ground in
the moment when this economic development does not lead to the
proletarianisation of the masses and to the communisation of the
processes of production--to mercantile operations on a large scale. If
socialism is postulated upon any other grounds of ethics or
expediency, it cannot be "scientific" in the thought of the day. Here,
as I believe, lies the justification for the antithesis "socialistic
or democratic." And in the opposition of these two general thoughts,
each of which is represented within the social movement, is expressed
that deeply lying conflict of which we speak.
How these tendencies will settle themselves we cannot yet clearly see.
I believe that the following considerations may tend towards a
clearing of the situation.
The whole strength of the social movement, all chances for the final
victory of its ideas, so far as I see, rest upon the fact that it
proposes to be the representative of the highest form of economic life
at every period of production upon the largest scale. It tries to
climb upon the shoulders of the bourgeoisie, who are now the
representatives of the most highly developed forms of economy; and it
thinks that it will be able to overtop. History teaches us that what
we call advance has always been only change to a higher system of
economy, and that those classes thrive who represent this higher
system. Behind capitalism there is no "development"; possibly there
may be ahead. The degree of production which has been reached by it
must in any case be rivalled by any party that will secure the future
for itself. In that is shown, I think, the standard of any advance
movement.
If the social democracy is to maintain its historic mission, if it is
to be a party of advance, it must avoid compromise with the
notoriously declining classes, as the hand-workers and other
economically low organisations. Even a temporary compact with them is
dangerous. It will not be admissible, also, to change the programme
and goal of the social movement to suit the middle-class elements that
have crept in, if that great aim of production upon the largest scale
shall be held fast--because we know positively that their hand-work
represents in general a low form of economy. But now the other side of
the question. If there are spheres in economic life which are not to
be subjected to this process of communisation, because the smaller
method of business is under the conditions more profitable than the
larger,--how about the farmer? That is the whole problem which to-day
stands before the social democracy as the "agrarian question." Must
the communistic ideal of production on a large scale, and the
developed programme connected with it, undergo any essential change as
applied to the peasantry? And if a man reaches the conclusion that in
agrarian development no tendency to production on a large scale
exists, but that here operation on a large scale is not at all the
highest form of management, then we see before us the decisive
question--Shall we now be democratic in the sense of allowing
production on a small scale in this sphere and thus change our
programme and desert the communistic ideal; or shall we remain
proletarian, hold fast to the communistic ideal and exclude this class
from our movement? In this case the former decision would not be
reactionary, because, in spite of the acceptance of that lower
middle-class element into the movement, it is not necessary to come
down from the level of production that has been reached in the spheres
of industry that have been communised.
I have here been obliged to speak doubtfully because thus far, so far
as I know, there is no certainty either as to the tendency of
development among the agriculturalists or as to the form of
management, nor are we certain as to whether any specific form of
agrarian production is the superior. But, so far as I see, the Marxian
system breaks down on this point; the deductions of Marx are not
applicable to the sphere of agriculture without change. He has said
much of importance concerning agrarian matters; but his theory of
development, which rests upon an assumption of business upon a large
scale and upon the proletarianising of the masses, and which
necessarily leads to socialism in its development, is only for the
sphere of manufactures. It does not apply to agricultural development;
and to me it seems that only a scientific investigation will be able
to fill the gap which now exists.
Of far-reaching importance, and at this moment of pressing interest,
are two points which I would present in conclusion. I mean the
attitude of the social movement towards religion and towards
nationality. Because here personal feeling and temperament may easily
interfere with the clear vision of the observer, it is doubly
necessary to divest oneself of all passion and to deal with these
problems objectively. Let us make the attempt. Leaving out of
consideration the English working-man, who to-day, as a generation
ago, seems to oscillate between pietism and positivism, and who on
this point cannot be considered typical because of the well-known
peculiar conditions of his development, the proletarian movement
doubtless is strongly anti-religious. How comes this?
So far as I see, the opposition to religion comes from two different
sources: it has a "theoretical" and a "practical" origin.
Theoretically the proletariat and its leaders have become heirs of the
liberal "age of illumination." Out of a superficial study of natural
sciences have sprung all these anti-religious writings of the years
1860-1880 which in an intoxication of joy announced the first
recognition of the atheistic dogma to the world. These writers never
rose above the level of "itinerant preachers of materialism," and they
have never reached to the level of the Marx-Engels conception of life.
The platform of this dogmatic atheism may be considered to-day as
entirely something of the past. There is no earnest representative of
science anywhere who to-day dares to assert that science means atheism
and excludes religion. Thus the attitude of the proletariat towards
religion would be entirely free and independent if the ground of its
irreligion were merely a theoretic and misleading incursion into the
dogmatism of natural science. But the enmity to religion has much
deeper grounds. Not only has an enthusiasm for scientific materialism
taken hold of the proletariat with special force; but also the
enthusiasm for unbelief has been helped greatly in its development by
the instinctive feeling, or the clear consciousness, that in the
materialistic conception of the world lies the germ of a mighty
revolutionary force, well suited to drive authority from all spheres
of life. What wonder that the proletariat took hold of it as a useful
weapon for the strife; for, as we know, one of the conditions of the
very existence of the proletariat lies in a tearing asunder of all the
old points of faith. Thus the predilection for materialism and atheism
is well explained.
And now consider that the acceptance of this dogma betokens a protest
against the Christian system of thought, which the working man must
look upon as inimical because represented by the ruling classes and
used in their interests. For there can be no doubt that, in an
overwhelming majority of cases, official Christianity has been used by
the ruling classes against the movement for the emancipation of the
proletariat. The fate that falls upon heretical Christians is the best
proof of this. So long as men try to support monarchy and capitalism
as a necessary and Divine institution, using the Christian Church for
this purpose, the social movement must become anti-ecclesiastical and
thus anti-religious. Thus a mistrust as to the position, in the social
struggle, of the official representatives of the Church estranges the
proletariat from this Church and thus from religion. In the moment
that this mistrust is removed--and you all know that the new
Christian-socialists, especially in Germany, have taken this as their
task,--in the moment when Christianity is presented either as
unpartisan in its social influence, as Goehre preaches it, or as
directly social-democratic, as Naumann presents it,--in that moment,
so far as I see, there will be no reason why the proletariat should
maintain an anti-religious character.
In saying this, of course, I assume that religion is adapted to the
needs of the proletariat. Whether or not Christianity possesses this
adaptability, I do not dare to say. But that it is thus adapted would
seem to be indicated by the fact that it became the religion of Rome
in its decadence and of the German tribes in the youthful freshness of
their civilisation, of feudalism as well as of those stages of
civilisation in which the free cities and later the bourgeoisie have
had predominance. Then why may it not also be the religion of the
proletariat? But it must be presented to the lower classes with all of
the joy of life of which Christianity is capable. For the element of
asceticism in Christianity pleases little these classes, which press
towards air and light and which do not show any inclination to allow
the good things of life to be taken from them.
As if overhung with thick clouds of passion, appears now the question
as to the attitude of the social movement towards nationality. A great
part of the heated discussion on this point, as it seems to me, is due
to lack of clearness in thought. It is not so much our German
language, as it is our German instinct, that distinguishes between two
ideas, rightly but not always sharply separated; we are accustomed to
specify them as _patriotism_ and _nationalism_.
Patriotism, the love of the Fatherland, is indeed a feeling that
unconsciously and without effort is held fast in our hearts, and
exists therein like love of home and of family. It is an aggregation
of impressions, of memories, over which we have no control. It is that
indefinable power exercised upon our souls by the sound of the mother
tongue, by the harmony of the national song, by many peculiar customs
and usages, by the whole history and poetry of the home land. It is
that feeling which comes to its fulness only in a strange land, and
presses as truly upon the soul of the exiled revolutionist as upon
that of the peaceful citizen. I cannot see why this should be the
heritage of a particular class. It is a foolish idea that such a
feeling may, or can, die out in the great masses of men, so long as
there are lands and peoples with their own languages and songs.
Quite different is nationalism--the intelligent presentation, if I may
so express it, of national opinion, especially in opposition and
enmity to other nations. The modern proletariat does not simply refuse
to share this feeling; it actually fights against it.
Here again we meet the same fact that we observed before in
connection with the attitude of the proletariat towards religion; they
identify the idea of "nationalism" with the ruling classes, and as
enemies of the representatives of the idea they turn their hatred
against the idea itself. Especially is this so because, in many lands,
it is not made easy for the rising working-men's movement to identify
itself with the official representatives of the nation; hate,
persecution, repression, are not suitable means to arouse pride in
that national structure in which the working men must live together
with those from whom all this evil proceeds. At the same time a
friendly hand is reached over the national boundary-line by the
proletariat of a strange and unfriendly land, by companions in
suffering, with similar interests and efforts. Truly it is no wonder
that the modern proletariat generally becomes imbued with an
anti-national, an international, tendency.
But I hold it to be quite wrong to justify an anti-national theory by
this impulsive anti-nationalism. I see in the essence of modern
socialism no reason for such an idea. I have explicitly pointed out to
you the tendency towards an international understanding and unity on
the part of the proletariat. But that is only an artificial abolition
of national barriers. Only one who chases after the phantom of a world
republic will be able to imagine a social development outside of
national limitations. A man will hardly venture to prophesy with
certainty, even for only a short time, as to when the social
contradictions within a nation shall rival those points of difference
at present existing between nations. But it must be clear even to the
short-sighted that, so far as we can see, an energetic upholding of
national interests can never be entirely unnecessary.
Even if in Western Europe the differences between nations should be so
far obviated that only social questions remain in the field, I believe
that we could never assume that this Western European civilisation can
pursue its course undisturbed and without the admixture of other
elements. We must never forget that, as a result of modern means of
communication, not only Russian civilisation threatens that of Western
Europe, but even the Asiatic more and more strongly presses upon us.
The development in Asia which we have seen in the course of the last
decade, the rapid advancement of Japan, and now the attempt of China
to enter civilisation in order to nibble at the fruits of commerce and
to grow out of its narrow circle--this development will doubtless take
a course which must of necessity lead to new international
complications. I believe that the moment will come when European
society as a whole will say to itself: All our mutual differences are
of no importance as compared with that which threatens us from this
enemy. As an indication of this see the attitude of America towards
Asiatic development. There is a case in which the "internationalism"
of the proletariat is simply thrown aside; and this would be the case
also among the proletariat of Western Europe, if the coolies should
begin to swarm over us like rats. An artificial sympathy with the most
downtrodden people would prove too weak to restrain a sound national
self-interest. So soon as a common enemy threatens the existence of a
society it becomes again conscious of its economic interests and
rallies to their support; and in the meantime its internal differences
are forgotten.
Thus there can be no talk of an essential repudiation of nationalism
on the part of the proletariat throughout the world. Discussion of
the question concerns only a circle of kindred nations to which one
does not want to see the principle of anti-nationalism applied. How
such national groups are constituted is a question which it is not
necessary for us here to determine, as I desire only to present the
essential point in the national problem. You see that, with this
discussion, I complete the circle of my thought, and return to that
with which I began--the idea that there is, and apparently always will
be, an antithesis around which, as around poles, human history
circles, the social and the national. That is something which the
proletariat should never forget.