CHAPTER I

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* * * * *

SOCIALISM AND

DEMOCRACY IN

EUROPE

By

SAMUEL P. ORTH, PH.D.

_Author of "Five American Politicians" "Centralization of

Administration in Ohio," etc._

[Illustration]

NEW YORK

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

1913

COPYRIGHT, 1913

BY

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

Published January, 1913

THE QUINN & BODEN CO. PRESS

RAHWAY, N.J.

PREFACE

It is becoming more and more evident that democracy has served only

the first years of its apprenticeship. Political problems have served

only to introduce popular government. The economic problems now

rushing upon us will bring the real test of democracy.

The workingman has taken an advanced place in the struggle for the

democratization of industry. He has done so, first, through the

organization of labor unions; secondly, through the development of

political parties--labor parties. The blend of politics and economics

which he affects is loosely called Socialism. The term is as

indefinite in meaning as it is potent in influence. It has spread its

unctuous doctrines over every industrial land, and its representatives

sit in every important parliament, including our Congress.

Such a movement requires careful consideration from every point of

view.

It is the object of this volume to trace briefly the growth of the

movement in four leading European countries, and to attempt to

determine the relation of economic and political Socialism to

democracy--a question of peculiar interest to the friends of the

American Republic at this time.

In preparing this volume, the author has made extended visits to the

countries studied. He has tried to catch the spirit of the movement by

personal contact with the Socialist leaders and their antagonists,

and by many interviews with laboring men, the rank and file in every

country visited.

Everywhere he was received with the greatest cordiality, and he wishes

here to express his appreciation of these many kindnesses.

He wishes especially to acknowledge his obligations to the following

gentlemen: Mr. Graham Wallas of the University of London; Mr. W.G.

Towler of the London Municipal Society; Mr. John Hobson of London, and

Mr. J.S. Middleton, assistant secretary of the Labor Party; to Dr.

Robert Herz and Prof. Charles Gide of the University of Paris; Dr.

Albert Thomas and M. Adolphe Landry of the Chamber of Deputies; M.

Jean Longuet, editor of _L'Humanite_; to Dr. Franz Oppenheimer of the

University of Berlin; Dr. Suedekum of the Reichstag; Dr. Hilferding,

editor of _Vorwaerts_; Prof. T.H. Norton, American Consul at Chemnitz;

M. Camille Huysmans, secretary of the "International," Brussels; as

well as to many American friends for providing letters of introduction

which opened many useful and congenial doorways.

S.P.O.

January, 1913.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. WHY DOES SOCIALISM EXIST? 1

II. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOCIALISM 17

III. The Political Awakening of Socialism--The Period

of Revolution 42

IV. THE POLITICAL AWAKENING OF SOCIALISM--THE

INTERNATIONAL 56

V. THE SOCIALIST PARTY OF FRANCE 75

VI. THE BELGIAN LABOR PARTY 118

VII. THE GERMAN SOCIAL DEMOCRACY 146

VIII. GERMAN SOCIAL DEMOCRACY AND LABOR UNIONS 171

IX. THE ENGLISH LABOR PARTY 207

X. CONCLUSION 250

APPENDIX 273

INDEX 347

SOCIALISM AND DEMOCRACY IN EUROPE

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION--WHY DOES SOCIALISM EXIST?

The answer to this question will bring us nearer to the core of the

social movement than any attempted definition. The French Socialist

program begins with the assertion, "Socialism is a question of class."

Class distinction is the generator of Socialism.

The ordinary social triptych--upper, middle, and lower classes--will

not suffice us in our inquiry. We must distinguish between the

functions of the classes. The upper class is a remnant of the feudal

days, of the manorial times, when land-holding brought with it social

distinction and political prerogative. In this sense we have no upper

class in America. The middle class is composed of the business and

professional element, and the lower class of the wage-earning element.

There are two words, as yet quite unfamiliar to American readers,

which are met with constantly in European works on Socialism and are

heard on every hand in political discussions--_proletariat_ and

_bourgeois_. The proletariat are the wage-earning class, the poor,

the underlings. The bourgeois[1] are roughly the middle class. The

French divide them into _petits_ bourgeois and _grands_ bourgeois.

Werner Sombart divides them into lower middle class, the manual

laborers who represent the guild system, and bourgeoisie, the

representatives of the capitalistic system.[2]

It will thus be seen that these divisions have a historical basis. The

upper class reflect the days of feudalism, of governmental prerogative

and aristocracy. The middle class are the representatives of the guild

and mercantile systems, when hand labor and later business acumen

brought power and wealth to the craftsman and adventurer. The lower

class are the homologues of the slaves, the serfs, the toilers, whose

reward has constantly been measured by the standard of bare existence.

Socialism arises consciously out of the efforts of this class to win

for itself a share of the powers of the other classes. It is necessary

to understand that while this class distinction is historic in origin

it is essentially economic in fact. It is not "social"; a middle-class

millionaire may be congenial to the social circles of the high-born.

It is not political; a workingman may vote with any party he chooses.

He may ally himself with the conservative Center as he sometimes does

in Germany, or with the Liberal Party as he sometimes does in England,

or with either of the old parties as he does in the United States. On

the other hand, a bourgeois may be a Socialist and vote with the

proletarians. Indeed, many of the Socialist leaders belong to the

well-to-do middle class.

This class distinction, then, is economic. It is a distinction of

function, the function of the capitalist and the function of the

wage-earner. Let us go one step further; it is a distinction in

property. The possessor of private wealth can become a capitalist by

investing his money in productive enterprise. He then becomes the

employer of labor. There are all grades of capitalists, from the

master wagon-maker who works by the side of his one or two workmen, to

the "captain" of a vast industry that gives employment to thousands of

men and turns out a wagon a minute.

The institution of private property is the basis of Socialism because

it is the basis of capitalistic production. It places in one man's

hands the power of owning raw material, machinery, land, factory, and

finished product; and the power of hiring men to operate the

machinery, and to convert the raw material into marketable wares. As

long as this power was limited to hand industry the proletarian

movement was abortive. When the industrial revolution linked the

ingenuity of man to the power of nature it so multiplied the potency

of the possessor that the proletarian movement by stress of

circumstances became a great factor in industrial life.

While the possession either of wealth or family tradition was always

the basis of class distinction, the industrial revolution brought with

it the enormously multiplied power of capital and the glorification of

riches. The proletarians multiplied rapidly in number, and all the

evils of sharp class distinction were heightened. In all lands where

capitalistic production spread, the two classes grew farther apart,

the distinction between possessor and wage-earner increased.

It is not the mere possession of wealth, however, which forms the

animus of the Socialist movement. It is probably not even the abuse of

this wealth, although this is a large factor in the problem. It is the

psychological effect of the capitalist system that is the real

enginery of Socialism. It is the class feeling, the consciousness of

the workingman that he is contributing muscle and blood and sweat to

the perfection of an article whose possession he does not share. This

feeling is aroused by the contrasts of life that the worker constantly

sees around him. He feels that his own life energy has contributed to

the magnificent equipages and the palatial luxuries of his employer.

He compares his own lot and that of his family with the lot of the

capitalist. This feeling of envy is not blunted by the kaleidoscopic

suddenness with which changes of fortune can take place in America

to-day. By some stroke of luck or piece of ingenious planning, a

receiver of wages to-day may be the giver of wages to-morrow.

Nor does the spread of education and intelligence dull the contrasts.

It greatly heightens them. The workman can now begin to analyze the

conditions under which he lives. He ponders over the distinctions that

are actual and contrasts them with his imagined utopia. To him the

differences between employer and employee are not natural. He does not

attribute them to any fault or shortcoming or inferiority of his own,

nor of his master, but to a flaw in the organization of society. The

social order is wrong.

The workingman has become the critic. Here you have the heart of

Socialism. Whatever form its outward aspect may take, at heart it is a

rebellion against things as they are. And whatever may be the

syllogisms of its logic, or the formularies of its philosophy, they

all begin with a grievance, that things as they are are wrong; and

they all end in a hope for a better society of to-morrow where the

inequalities shall somehow be made right.

In his struggle toward a new economic ideal, the proletarian has

achieved a class homogeneity and self-consciousness. The individuality

that is denied him in industry he has sought and found among his own

brethren. In the great factory he loses even his name and becomes

number so-and-so. In his union and in his party he asserts his

individuality with a grim and impressive stubbornness. The gravitation

of common ideals and common protests draws these forgotten particles

of industrialism into a massed consciousness that is to-day one of the

world's great potencies. The very fact that we call this body of

workers "the masses" is significant. We speak of them as a geologist

speaks of his "basement complex." We recognize unconsciously that they

form the foundation of our economic life.

The class struggle, then, is between two clearly defined and

self-conscious elements in modern industrial life that are the natural

product of our machine industry. On the one hand is the business man

pursuing with fevered energy the profits that are the goal of his

activity; on the other hand are the workingmen who, more and more

sullen in their discontent, are clamoring louder each year for a

greater share of the wealth they believe their toil creates.

There is some reason to believe that this class basis of Socialism is

vanishing. In England J. Ramsay MacDonald denies its significance.[3]

Revisionists and progressive Socialists, who are throwing aside the

Marxian dogmas, are also preaching the universality of the Socialist

conception. However, the economic factor based on class functions

remains the essence of the social movement.[4]

What are the ideals of Socialism? They are not merely economic or

social, they embrace all life. After one has taken the pains to read

the more important mass of Socialist literature, books, pamphlets, and

some current newspapers and magazines, and has listened to their

orators and talked with their leaders, confusion still remains in the

mind. The movement is so all-embracing that it has no clearly defined

limits. The Socialists are feeling their way from protest into

practice. Their heads are in the clouds; of this you are certain as

you proceed through their books and listen to their speeches. But are

their feet upon the earth?

For a literature of protest against "suffering, misery, and

injustice," as Owen calls it, there is a wonderful buoyancy and hope

in their words. It is one of the secrets of its power that Socialism

is not the energy of despair. It is the demand for the right to live

fully, joyfully, and in comfort. The Socialists demand ozone in their

air, nutrition in their food, heartiness in their laughter, ease in

their homes, and their days must have hours of relaxation.

The awakening aspirations of the proletarian were expressed by one of

their own number, William Weitling, a tailor of Magdeburg. He

afterwards migrated to America and became one of our first Socialist

agitators. His book is called _Garantieen der Harmonie und Freiheit_

(Guaranties of Harmony and Liberty). The book is illogical, full of

contradictions, and all of the errors of a child's reasoning. But it

remains the workingman's classic philippic, one of the most trenchant

recitals of social wrongs, because it blends, with the illogical

terminology of sentimentalism, the assurance of hope. "Property," he

says, "is the root of all evil." Gold is the symbol of this world of

wrongs. "We have become as accustomed to our coppers as the devil to

his hell." When the rule of gold shall cease, then "the teardrops

which are the tokens of true brotherliness will return to the dry eyes

of the selfish, the soul of the evildoer will be filled with noble and

virtuous sentiments such as he had never known before, and the impious

ones who have hitherto denied God will sing His praise." The humble

tailor is assured that the reign of property will be terminated and

the age of humanity begin, and he calls to the workingman, "Forward,

brethren; with the curse of Mammon on our lips, let us await the hour

of our emancipation, when our tears will be transmuted into pearls of

dew, our earth transformed into a paradise, and all of mankind united

into one happy family."[5] Nor is the closing cry of his book without

an element of prophecy. He addresses the "mighty ones of this earth,"

admonishing them that they may secure the fame of Alexander and

Napoleon by the deeds of emancipation which lie in their power. "But

if you compel us (the proletarians) to undertake the task alone with

our raw material, then it will be accomplished only after weary toil

and pain to us and to you."

Let us turn to Robert Owen, who was at an early age the most

successful cotton spinner in England. He adapted an old philosophy to

a new humanitarianism. He saw that a "gradual increase in the number

of our paupers has accompanied our increasing wealth."[6] He began the

series of experiments which made his name familiar in England and

America and made him known in history as the greatest experimental

communist. His experiments have failed. But his hopefulness persists.

In his address delivered at the dedication of New Lanark, 1816, he

said that he had found plenty of unhappiness and plenty of misery.

"But from this day a change must take place; a new era must commence;

the human intellect, through the whole extent of the earth, hitherto

enveloped by the grossest ignorance and superstition, must begin to be

released from its state of darkness; nor shall nourishment henceforth

be given to the seeds of disunion and division among men. For the time

has come when the means may be prepared to train all the nations of

the world in that knowledge which shall _impel them not only to love

but to be actively kind to each other in the whole of their conduct,

without a single exception_."

Here is an all-inclusive hopefulness. Its significance is not

diminished by the fact that it was spoken of his own peculiar remedy

by education and environment.

This faith and hope runs through all their books like a golden song.

Excepting Marx, he was the great gloomy one. Even those who condemn

modern society with the most scathing adjectives link with their

denunciations the most sanguine sentences of hope.

The Christian Socialism of Kingsley is filled with optimism. "Look up,

my brother Christians, open your eyes, the hour of a new crusade has

struck."[7]

The song of the new crusade was sung by Robert Morris:

"Come, shoulder to shoulder ere the world grows older!

Help lies in naught but thee and me;

Hope is before us, the long years that bore us,

Bore leaders more than men may be.

"Let dead hearts tarry and trade and marry,

And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth,

While we, the living, our lives are giving

To bring the bright new world to birth."

This song of hope is sung to-day by thousands of marching Socialists.

Their bitter experiences in parliaments and in strikes, and all the

warfare of politics and trade, have not blighted their rosy hope. They

are still looking forward to "the bright new world," in which a new

social order shall reign.

Linked with this optimism is a certain prophetic tone, an elevation of

spirit that lifts some of their books out of the commonplace. The

sincerity of these prophets of Socialism contributes this quality more

than does their originality of mind.

In their search for happiness the Socialists see a great barrier in

their way. The barrier is want, poverty. There are no greater

contrasts, mental and temperamental, than between John Stuart Mill,

the erudite economist and philosopher, and H.G. Wells, the romancer

and sentimental critic of things as they are. Both begin their attacks

upon the social order at the same point--the vulnerable spot,

_poverty_. Mill places it first in his category of existing evils. He

asks, "What proportion of the population in the most civilized

countries of Europe enjoy, in their own person, anything worth naming

of the benefits of property?" "Suffice it to say that the condition of

numbers in civilized Europe, and even in England and France, is more

wretched than that of most tribes of savages who are known to us."[8]

Wells bases his racy criticism in his popular book, _New Worlds for

Old_, on the facts revealed in the reports of various charity

organizations in Edinburgh, York, and London. To both the exacting

economist and the popular expositor of Socialism, poverty is the

glaring fault of our social system. To Wells poverty is an "atrocious

failure in statesmanship."[9] To Mill it is "_pro tanto_ a failure of

the social arrangement."[10]

These examples are typical. Every school of Socialism finds in poverty

the curse, in private property the cause, of human misery, and in a

readjusted machinery of social production the hope of human

betterment.

All Socialists, learned and unlearned, agree that poverty is the

stumbling-block in the pathway to better social conditions. They all

agree as to the causes of poverty: first, private capitalistic

production; second, competition. It is private capitalistic production

that enables the employer to pocket all the profits; it is competition

that enables him to buy labor in an open market at the lowest possible

price, a price regulated by the necessities of bare existence. To the

Socialist, competition is anarchy, an anarchy that leaves "every man

free to ruin himself so that he may ruin another."[11]

To do away with private capital and to abolish competition means

bringing about a tremendous change in society. All Socialists

unhesitatingly and with boldness are ready, even eager, to make such a

change. The problem is not insuperable to them.

The three theories that underlie Socialism permit the hope of the

possibility of a social regeneration. These theories are, first, that

God made the world good, hence all you need to do is to revert to this

pristine goodness and the world is reformed. Second, that society is

what it is through evolution. If this is true then it is only

necessary to control by environment the factors of evolution and the

product will be preordained. Third, that even if man is bad and has

permitted pernicious institutions like private property to exist, he

can remake society by a bold effort, i.e., by revolution, because all

social power is vested in man and he can do as he likes. The ruling

class can impose its social order upon all. When the Socialist becomes

the ruling class his social system will be adopted.

This great change which the Socialist has in mind means the

substitution of co-operation for competition and the placing of

productive property in the care of the state or of society, instead

of letting it remain under the domination of individuals. To abolish

private productive capital by making it public, to establish a

communistic instead of a competitive society, that is the object.

In the Socialist's new order of society, where poverty will be

unknown, there is to be a common bond. This bond is not possession,

but work. With glowing exultation all the expositors and exhorters of

the proletarian movement dwell upon the blessedness of toil. They

glorify man, not through his inheritance of personality, certainly not

through his possession of things, but through his achievements of

toil.

When all members of society work at useful occupations, then all the

necessary things can be done in a few hours. Six or four, or some even

say two, hours a day will be sufficient to do all the drudgery and the

essential things in a well-organized human beehive. There is to be

nothing morose or despondent in this toil. It is all to be done to the

melody of good cheer and willingness.

How is this great change to come about, and what is to be the exact

organization of society under this regime of work and co-operation?

Here unanimity ceases. As a criticism Socialism is unanimous, as a

method it is divided, as a reconstructive process it is hopelessly at

sea.

At first Socialists were utopians, then they became revolutionists.

This was natural. Socialism was born in an air of revolution--the

political revolutions of the bourgeois, and the infinitely greater

industrial revolution. The tides of change and passion were rocking

the foundations of state and industry. The evils in early

industrialism were abhorrent. Small children and their mothers were

forced into factories, pauperism was thriving, the ugly machine-fed

towns were replacing the quaint and cheerful villages, rulers were

forgetting their duties in their greed for gain, and the state was

persecuting men for their political and economic opinions. Every face

was turned against the preachers of the new order, and they naturally

thought that the change could be brought about only by violence and

revolution. Louis Blanc said "a social revolution ought to be tried:

"Firstly, because the present social system is too full of iniquity,

misery, and turpitude to exist much longer.

"Secondly, because there is no one who is not interested, whatever his

position, rank, and fortune, in the inauguration of a new social

system.

"Thirdly, and lastly, because this revolution, so necessary, is

possible, even easy to accomplish peacefully."[12]

These are the naive words of a young man of thirty-seven, the youngest

member of the ill-fated revolutionary government of France in 1848.

Not every one thought that the revolution could be peacefully

accomplished, and, it must be admitted, few seemed to care.

In their "Communist Manifesto," the most noted of all Socialist

broadsides, Marx and Engels know of no peaceful revolution. They close

with these virile words: "The communists disdain to conceal their

views and aims. They openly declare that their ends can be attained

only by the forcible overthrow of all existing conditions. Let the

ruling classes tremble at a communistic revolution. The proletarians

have nothing to lose but their chains. They have the world to win.

Workingmen of all countries, unite!"

These words are often quoted even in these placid days of evolution

that have replaced the red days of violence. The workingmen of all

countries are uniting, as we shall see, not for bloody revolution nor

for the violence of passion, but for the promulgation of peace. To-day

the silent coercion of multitudes is taking the place of the eruptive

methods of the '40's and the '70's.

As to the ultimate form of organized society, there is nothing but

confusion to be found in the mass of literature that has grown up

around the subject. The earliest writers were cocksure of themselves;

the latest ones bridge over the question with wide-arching

generalities. I have asked many of their leaders to give me some hint

as to what form their Society of To-morrow will take. Every one

dodged. "No one can tell. It will be humanitarian and co-operative."

If one could be assured of this!

Finally, all Socialists agree in the instrument of change. It lies at

hand as the greatest co-operative achievement of our race, the state.

It is the common possession of all, and it is the one power that can

lay its hands upon property and compel its obedience. The power of the

state is to be the dynamo of change. This state is naturally to be

democratic. The people shall hold the reins of power in their own

hands.

It must be remembered that every year sees a shifting in the

Socialist's attitude. As he has left the sphere of mere fault-finding

and of dreaming, and has entered politics, entered the labor war

through unions, and the business war through co-operative societies,

he has been compelled to adapt himself to the necessities of things as

they are.

I have tried briefly to show that Socialism originated as a class

movement, a proletarian movement; that the classes, wage-earner and

capitalist, are the natural outcome of machine production; that

Socialism is one of the natural products of the antagonistic relations

that these two classes at present occupy; that Socialism intends to

eliminate this antagonism by eliminating the private employer. I have

tried to show also that Socialism is a criticism of the present social

order placing the blame for the miseries of society upon the shoulders

of private property and competition; that it is optimistic in spirit,

buoyant in hope; and that its program of reconstruction is confused

and immature.

Stripped of its glamour, our society is in a neck-to-neck race for

things, for property. Its hideousness has shocked the sensibilities of

dreamers and humanitarians. Our machine industry has produced a

civilization that is ugly. It is natural that the esthetic and

philanthropic members of this society should raise their protest.

Ruskin and Anatole France and Maeterlinck and Carlyle and Robert

Morris and Emerson and Grierson are read with increasing satisfaction.

It is natural that the participants in this death race should utter

their cries of alternate despair and hope. Socialism is the cry of the

toiler. It is not to be ignored. We in America have no conception of

its potency. There are millions of hearts in Europe hanging upon its

precepts for the hope that makes life worth the fight.

Their Utopia may be only a rainbow, a mirage in the mists on the

horizon. But the energy which it has inspired is a reality. It has

organized the largest body of human beings that the world has known.

Its international Socialist movement has but one rival for homogeneity

and zeal, the Church, whose organization at one time embraced all

kingdoms and enlisted the faithful service of princes and paupers.

It is this reality in its political form which I hope to set forth in

the following pages. We will try to discover what the Socialist

movement is doing in politics, how much of theory has been merged in

political practice, what its everyday parliamentary drudgery is, and,

if possible, to tell in what direction the movement is tending.

Before we do this it is necessary to state briefly the history of the

underlying theories of the movement.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] "By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modern capitalists, owners

of the means of social production, and employers of wage-labor. By

proletariat, the class of modern wage-laborers, who, having no means

of production of their own, are reduced to selling their labor power

in order to live."--FREDERICK ENGELS, _Notes on the Communist

Manifesto_, 1888.

[2] See SOMBART, _Socialism and the Social Movement_, Introduction,

for discussion of the class movement.

[3] _The Socialist Movement_, p. 147.

[4] The all-embracing character of Socialism was eloquently phrased by

Millerand in 1896: "In its large synthesis Socialism embraces every

manifestation of life, because nothing human is alien to it, because

it alone offers to-day to our hunger for justice and happiness an

ideal, purely human and apart from all dogma." See ENSOR, _Modern

Socialism_, p. 53.

[5] _Garantieen der Harmonie und Freiheit_, pp. 57-58, edition of

1845.

[6] Letter I, addressed to David Ricardo.

[7] Tract No. IV.

[8] _Socialism_, pp. 71-72.

[9] WELLS, _New Worlds for Old_, p. 36.

[10] MILL, _Socialism_, p. 72.

[11] LOUIS BLANC, _The Right to Labor_, p. 63.

[12] _Organization of Labor_, p. 87, 1847.

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