SOCIAL DEMOCRACY SINCE THE DEATH OF LASSALLE.
The last chapter contained a description of the desires and demands of
the German social democratic party, without entering into any discussion
of the careers and characters of its leaders or of the organizations
which have been formed to support its programme. This chapter will treat
of what may be called social democracy in the concrete. I shall first
take up the external history of the political party which is designated
by that name, and then enter into a consideration of its internal
history. By its external history I mean an account of its outward life,
as manifested in the field of politics; by its internal history I mean a
description of the men who have led the party, and a presentation both of
the ideas which have controlled it and the measures which it has adopted
in its political and economic propaganda.
It was the introduction of universal suffrage by the North German
Confederation, in 1867, and by the German Empire, in 1871, which enabled
the social democrats to enter into political contests with any reasonable
hope of success. German laborers do not appear previously to have played
any _rôle_ in the politics of their country. The Prussian constitution
is so constructed as to give a preponderating influence to wealth. This
is not the place to explain the Prussian system of voting. It is only
necessary to remark that the voters are divided into three classes,
according to their wealth, and that a voter of the wealthiest class in
Berlin counts for as much as fifteen voters of the poorest class. The
laborer could not, of course, hope to gain political influence with such
tremendous odds against him. It was to enable the poor man to fight his
own battles that Lassalle demanded universal and equal suffrage for all.
This was, as will be remembered, the only explicit demand of the social
democratic party, contained in the statutes or by-laws of the “Universal
German Laborers’ Union.” Lassalle appears to have been acquainted with
Bismarck’s intention to embrace it in the constitution of the empire he
was striving to found, and hoped great things therefrom. But as he died
in 1864, and the citizens of the North German Confederation first voted
in 1867, he was never able to make use of it in his agitation. It is
not often profitable to speculate upon what might have happened if this
or that event had not occurred, but it is self-evident that Lassalle’s
agitation would have been very formidable if he could have led the
laborers to the ballot-box and defended their cause, first in the North
German, afterwards in the Imperial, parliaments, with all the resources
of his learning, mental acumen, and impassioned eloquence. Lassalle’s
death discouraged the social democrats for a moment only. It can scarcely
be said that it caused an interruption in the progress of the party,
though this progress would, we may believe, have been far more rapid had
he lived. However, his death itself was made useful. Living, he could
scarcely have been glorified as he was after his death, and his name
could not have so influenced the laborers.
The social democrats entered into the contest for election of members
to the Constituent Assembly of the North German Confederation. In one
of the districts their candidate ran against Bismarck and a leading
liberal, and received about one fourth of the votes cast for the three
candidates. As no one received a majority, a new election was ordered,
and Bismarck was elected by the aid of the social democrats, who always
prefer conservatives to liberals. As Bismarck was elected in another
district, it was necessary to vote for a third time in this place, when
the social democrat ran against the celebrated liberal, Dr. Gneist,
Professor of Constitutional Law in the University of Berlin, and one of
the leading jurists in Germany. The votes were about evenly divided,
but the social democrat was defeated by a small majority. The social
democrats elected two representatives, however, and in the fall of the
same year (1867) they sent eight members to the Parliament of the North
German Confederation.
Since the organization of the German Empire the social democratic votes
for members of the Imperial Parliament (Reichstag) have numbered as
follows: 1871, 123,975; 1874, 351,952; 1877, 493,288; 1878, 437,158.
The entire number of votes cast in 1877 was 5,401,021. We see, then,
that the social democratic voters numbered over one eleventh of all the
voters in that year. When it is remembered that there are nine or ten
political parties represented in the Reichstag, it must be acknowledged
that the elections revealed a large relative strength of the social
democratic party. Its votes have, however, been so scattered that it has
not had its proportionate number of representatives in Parliament. The
social democratic members of the Reichstag numbered two in 1871, nine
in 1874, twelve in 1877, and nine in 1878. The total number of members
of the Reichstag is about four hundred. It is thus seen that the social
democratic party advanced in strength, as far as that is measured by
votes, until 1878, when the decrease was only slight. Two attempts were
made on the life of the Emperor William in that year, and the social
democrats had to bear a good share of the blame. There was a considerable
popular indignation manifested; private employers, as well as government,
discharged laborers who entertained social democratic principles; and
in the elections following the police put every obstacle in the way of
the party. In the Reichstag the celebrated socialistic law was passed,
which gave government exceptional and despotic powers to proceed against
social democracy. The severity of the government appears to have done
more harm than good. In spite of what can be fairly designated as
persecution, in the elections which took place in October, 1881, the
social democrats secured thirteen seats, the largest number they have
ever yet gained.[192] This is, indeed, significant when it is remembered
that the exceptional law (_Ausnahmegesetz_) allows severe measures
against the social democrats which would not even be thought of against
any other party. Government has thus been enabled to suspend all their
party newspapers, to prohibit the sale of their books and pamphlets, and
to suppress all public agitation of the party. Their associations were
dissolved, and for a hotel-keeper even to rent them rooms for a meeting
was made an offence punishable with imprisonment for a length of time
varying from one month to a year.
The German government was undoubtedly placed in a trying position, but
they appear to have made a mistake. It is said that at the time the
_Ausnahmegesetz_ was passed, things were in a bad way with the social
democrats. They had twenty or thirty journals, but many of them were on
the point of bankruptcy. Differences existed in the party, and no one
seemed to know what to do next. It is possible, if the party had been
left alone, it might have fallen into a sad state of disorganization,
and have become so weak that it would have ceased to trouble the peace
of the government for years. However this might have been, it is certain
that the measures of government were not altogether unwelcome to the
party leaders. It relieved them of numerous perplexities. It was much
better, _e.g._, for them to have their newspapers and magazines suspended
by government than to cease to appear for lack of support. Governmental
persecution united the divided members and gave new energy to all. Every
social democratic laborer experienced, to a certain extent, the elevating
feelings of martyrdom. They all became secret missionaries, distributing
tracts and exhorting individually their fellow-laborers to join the
struggle for the emancipation of labor.
The German social democrats have held two congresses since the
socialistic law, both, of course, on foreign soil, and both have
indicated progress. The first was held at Wyden, Switzerland, August
20-23, 1880. This resulted in a complete triumph for the more moderate
party. The two leading extremists, Hasselmann and Most, were both
expelled from the party—the former by all save three votes, the latter by
all save two.
The next congress was held at Copenhagen, Denmark, from March 29 to April
2, 1883. It exhibited greater unanimity of sentiment and plan, and a more
wide-spread interest in social democracy, than any previous congress. One
feature of interest was the very considerable financial aid from America
which was reported.[193]
“Bismarck has acknowledged that the measures which government has adopted
up to this time have not proved successful in weakening social democracy,
or in checking, in any effectual manner, its spread among the people.
But he claims that he has not as yet carried out his full programme.
This is true. During the discussion upon the socialistic law of October
21, 1878, he declared distinctly that he did not expect to cure the
masses of the disease of social democracy by repressive measures alone.
Something more than external remedies was needed. The social democrats
had built upon well-grounded discontent of the people, and he proposed
to win back the masses for king and fatherland by removing the grounds
of discontent. These grounds were of an economic nature. Wages were
low, taxes high, work scarce, and the entire economic existence of the
lower classes uncertain and full of anxiety. But what was to be done
about it? No one knew exactly, but all looked forward with eagerness to
Bismarck’s proposals. Two years passed away without bringing any of his
plans to light. People began to think that the promises of relief to the
poor had been thrown out simply as a bait to catch votes for the bill
which became the socialistic law.”[194] That they were intended to serve
this purpose is undoubted. The only question is whether Bismarck really
intended to make any attempt to carry through legislation in behalf of
the laborers. The lapse of time made men sceptical. The opinion more and
more prevailed that the last had been heard of government institutions
designed to ameliorate the condition of the poor. “But Bismarck has a
good memory and a strong will. When he has once made up his mind to
pursue a certain course of action he is not to be diverted therefrom.
More than once Germany has thought that he had forgotten some threat or
resolve because he allowed years to slip by without making any public
move towards the execution of his plans, but in such cases she has
reckoned without her host. It now looks as if Bismarck might have meant
all he said when he promised to use the power of the state to relieve
the poor classes. He had not for a moment forgotten his promise, but
was only working out his plans and waiting for an opportune moment to
execute them.” The German emperor, too, had been urging him forward in
the path he had marked out for government. The old Kaiser—who seems, in
his way, to have a warm, fatherly affection for his people—professed
his distress at the sufferings of the unfortunate, and maintained his
sincere desire to relieve them. He was an old man, he said, and he longed
to see the labor question satisfactorily adjusted before his death. To
one who realizes the utter impossibility of his seeing this pious wish
gratified, there is something undeniably touching in the simple and
honest expressions of this good-natured father of his people. “Early in
the year 1881 the Reichstag obtained an earnest of Bismarck’s plans for
pacifying the discontented elements in Germany in the Accident Insurance
bill, which is merely an episode in the history of German socialism.
The aim of the measure is to make provision for industrial laborers
injured in the prosecution of their callings, or for their families when
they are killed. It is proposed to establish a great insurance society
somewhat like the one founded and managed by the Baltimore and Ohio
Railroad Company.[195] The resemblance between many features of the two
plans is, indeed, surprising. It is desired, however, in Germany, that
government should bear a portion of the expenses; at any rate, that
is one characteristic of the government bill. Government also wishes
to manage the insurance society or societies undertaking this work,
although it might allow employers and employees some representation in
the administration of the business. In both these respects the bill is
clearly socialistic, and no one is better aware of this than Prince
Bismarck. It has been deliberately decided that private individuals, or
voluntary combinations of private individuals, are unable to perform all
the duties of society towards the poorer classes. The state is to become
a benefactor and protector of the weak and needy. Bills introduced by
government are always accompanied with so-called ‘motives,’ explaining
and defending them. The ‘motives’ accompanying the Accident Insurance
bill opened with these words: ‘That the state should care for its poorer
members in a higher degree than it has formerly done is a duty demanded
not only by humanity and Christianity—and the institutions of state
should be penetrated through and through by Christianity—but it is also a
measure required for the preservation of the state. A sound policy should
nourish in the indigent classes of the population, which are the most
numerous and least instructed, the view that the state is a beneficial,
as well as a necessary, arrangement. Legislative measures must bring them
direct, easily perceived advantages, to the end that they may learn to
regard the state not merely as an institution devised for the protection
of the wealthier classes, but as one which likewise ministers to their
needs and interests.’”
Bismarck proposes, then, to conquer social democracy by recognizing
and adopting into his own platform what there is of good in its
demands. It is curious to notice that friends of Bismarck and
supporters of the government have even gone so far as to adopt some
of the social democratic phrases. They have spoken of the laborers as
the “disinherited” classes of society. Yet this originated with the
social democrats; and a few years ago government gave as one reason
for prohibiting the sale of a certain book in Germany the fact that it
called the laborers the “disinherited” (_die Enterbten_). Thus far has
Bismarck gone in the way of making concessions. In the one point of the
Accident Insurance bill he has drawn a number of social democrats to his
support. They look upon it as only a beginning, and, indeed, Bismarck
has proposed to add features making provision for old age and for death
from disease and other causes than accident. But all that Bismarck
has promised is to them only one step. Those who regard the matter in
this light are willing to support him in this first step. Bebel, one
of their leaders at present, was one of the most earnest supporters of
Bismarck’s Insurance bill in the Reichstag, when the measure was brought
forward. Kayser, another social democrat, declared that he would let no
one “terrorize him—he would defend Bismarck.” All this makes a strange
impression upon us when we remember the cruelties and persecutions which
the social democrats have suffered through the instrumentality of the
great German statesman. It is amusing, and, at the same time, it is not
devoid of a certain pathos. It reminds one of an ancient prophecy—“The
wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like
the bullock.”
However, the two parties drew near together only for one special
purpose, and but for a moment. No reconciliation has taken place between
the opposing elements of industrial society in Germany. Only one of
Bismarck’s schemes for the amelioration of the condition of the laboring
man has been adopted.
In treating of these schemes I have brought the external history of
social democracy down to the present moment, for they are to-day being
discussed in Germany. They are viewed with the deepest distrust by large
classes of the population, and Parliament has greeted them coolly. Were
they accepted, they alone would not be sufficient to cure so deep-seated
a disease; perhaps they would scarcely mitigate it. Radical changes, not
to be hoped for in our lifetime, must take place before the conflict
between capitalist and laborer—between rich and poor—will cease to
disturb the peace of Christendom. The evil is rooted in the very nature
of society itself, and can only terminate in a transformation and moral
elevation of the various social elements. Its cause lies deeper than the
agitation of Karl Marx or the eloquence of Ferdinand Lassalle, who only
acted upon latent feelings and expressed thoughts, of which the laborers
had already a dim consciousness. Sooner or later their feelings were
bound to become active and their thoughts to find adequate expression.
Roscher, in his “Political Economy,” describes five conditions which,
meeting together, produce communistic and socialistic movements. As his
description of them has become celebrated, and explains not the mere
surface phenomena, but the underlying causes of communism and socialism,
I think it worth while to present them. I shall, however, take the
liberty of making abbreviations and changes, and interspersing such
remarks of my own as will better adapt the description to the purpose of
this volume.
The first condition is “a well-defined confrontation of rich and poor. So
long as there is a middle-class of considerable numbers between them, the
two extremes are kept, by its moral force, from coming into collision.
There is no greater preservative against envy of the superior classes
and contempt for the inferior than the gradual and unbroken fading of
one class of society into another.... But when the rich and the poor are
separated by an abyss which there is no hope of ever crossing, how pride,
on the one side, and envy, on the other, rage! and especially in the
centres of industry, the great cities, where the deepest misery is found
side by side with the most brazen-faced luxury, and where the wretched
themselves, conscious of their numbers, mutually excite their own bad
passions. It cannot, unfortunately, be denied that when a nation has
attained the acme of its development we find a multitude of tendencies
prevailing to make the rich richer and the poor, at least relatively,
poorer, and thus to diminish the number of the middle-class from both
sides; unless, indeed, remedial influences are brought to bear and to
operate in a contrary direction.”
The second condition mentioned is “a high degree of the division of
labor, by which, on the one hand, the mutual dependence of man on man
grows ever greater, but by which, at the same time, the eye of the
uncultured man becomes less and less able to perceive the connection
existing between merit and reward, or service and remuneration. Let us
betake ourselves in imagination to Crusoe’s island. There, when one man,
after the labor of many months, has hollowed out a tree into a canoe,
with no tools but an animal’s tooth, it does not occur to another, who,
in the meantime, was, it may be, sleeping on the skin of some wild
animal, to contest the right of the former to the fruit of his labor.
How different this from the condition of things where civilization is
advanced, as it is in our day; where the banker, by a single stroke
of his pen, seems to earn a thousand times more than a day-laborer in
a week; where, in the case of those who lend money on interest, their
debtors too frequently forget how laborious was the process of acquiring
the capital by the possessors, or their predecessors in ownership! More
especially, we have in times of over-population whole masses of honest
men asking, not alms, but only work—an opportunity to earn their bread,
and yet on the verge of starvation.”
The third condition: “A violent shaking or perplexing of public opinion
in its relation to the feeling of right by revolutions, especially when
they follow rapidly one on the heels of another, and take opposite
directions. On such occasions both parties have generally prostituted
themselves for the sake of the favor of the masses.... In this way they
are stirred up to the making of pretentious claims which it is afterwards
very difficult to silence.” It is in this prostitution of parties that
our greatest danger in the United States lies. It is already sought to
influence large classes by promises of office. The evils of political
contests controlled by those who hope to gain offices and those who
fear they may lose them will increase in two ways. First, the number of
offices will necessarily become greater with the increase of population
and the growth of public business. Instead of one hundred thousand
federal office-holders, we will yet have two hundred thousand. Second,
as population increases, and it becomes ever more and more difficult
to gain one’s bread, to say nothing about ascending the social ladder,
public offices will be coveted even more than at present, and over each
one there will be waged a bitter personal warfare. What, then, we have to
fear is that, as in ancient Rome, politicians will strive to influence
the great masses by promises of favors—food and entertainments (_panem et
circenses_). If a beginning is ever made in that direction the enemies
of the republic will have already crossed the rubicon. It behooves us to
stop in the downward path before it is too late. This can be done only by
putting our civil service—federal, state, and municipal—on a sound moral
basis.
The fourth condition: “Pretensions of the lower classes in consequence of
a democratic constitution. Communism is the logically not inconsistent
exaggeration of the principle of equality.” If you reflect upon it,
you will perceive that political equality, in the course of time,
very naturally leads to thoughts of economic equality—equality in the
enjoyment of spiritual and material goods.
The fifth condition: “A general decay of religion and morality in the
people. When every one regards wealth as a sacred trust or office, coming
from God, and poverty as a divine dispensation, intended to educate and
develop those afflicted thereby, and considers all men as brothers,
and this earthly life only as a preparation for eternity, even extreme
differences of property lose their irritating and demoralizing power.
On the other hand, the atheist and materialist becomes only too readily
a mammonist, and the poor mammonist falls only too easily into that
despair which would gladly kindle a universal conflagration, in order
either to plunder or lose his own life.” The maxim of the materialist,
sunk in poverty and despair, is, as is noticed, not that noble one of
our fathers, “Give me liberty or give me death,” but “Give me pleasure,
enjoyment in this life, or let me die in my misery.” “The rich mammonist
aggravates this sad condition of things when he casts suspicion on all
wealth by the immorality of the means he takes to acquire it and the
sinfulness of his enjoyments.”[196]
Turning to the internal history of social democracy after Lassalle’s
death, we have first to notice the condition of the “Universal German
Laborers’ Union” since that event. It was controlled for some time by
the Countess von Hatzfeldt. Her former connection with Lassalle and the
possession of large financial resources enabled her for some time to
maintain her position as its leading spirit. She interested herself in
politics, however, more on account of Lassalle than for the sake of the
laborers. She wished to honor his memory and promote the cause which had
been dear to him.
Before Lassalle died he mentioned the name of a man whom he recommended
as his successor in the presidency of the “Laborers’ Union.” The choice
was not a happy one. The new president soon made enemies of the ablest
members of the Union, and finally had a falling-out with the countess, in
whose house he lived, and who, for the sake of the cause, supported him.
It appears that one day the countess commissioned him to purchase butter
and cheese for the household. This was too much for the poor president.
He regarded the performance of such offices as incompatible with his
manly dignity and the respect due his high and honorable position. He did
not, indeed, fail to appreciate to the fullest extent the honor which
Lassalle had conferred upon him. Identifying the Union with all mankind,
he was accustomed to sign himself “President of Humanity.” He compared
his noiseless activity to the gentle rain, which, without thunder and
lightning, gradually penetrates the hard crust of the earth.
The amenities of life among the social democrats are curiously
illustrated by their dissensions during the presidency of this man—Becker
by name. Becoming enraged at Marx once, he proposed that the author of
“Capital” and the founder of the International should embalm himself with
his International and have himself hung in the chimney as a mad herring.
In return for this Liebknecht moved, in the Berlin association, that
Becker should be expelled from the Union as a low-minded slanderer and a
hopelessly incurable idiot.[197]
New presidents were elected yearly for two or three years, but the
countess could agree with none. She finally withdrew, with her followers,
and established a new association, called the “Female Line.” It never
played a considerable _rôle_, and in a few years died a natural death.
After the withdrawal of the countess the “Universal Laborers’ Union”
showed good sense enough to elect their ablest man president. This was
Jean Baptista von Schweitzer, a dramatic writer of some note, whose
comedies are considered among the best which have appeared recently.
Perhaps the best known are “Die Darwinianer,” “Epidemisch,” and
“Grosstädtisch.”
Von Schweitzer belonged to an old and wealthy patrician family of
Frankfort-on-the-Main. He had led a dissipated life, been involved in a
scandalous affair in Mannheim, and become a noted _roué_. When society in
Frankfort could tolerate him no longer he took up his abode in another
city, but here again became suspected of improper acts. It is surprising
that a man of such character should join the laborers and declaim about
their hardships. While it is possible that he was so thoroughly _blasé_
that he could find needed excitement in no other way, I should prefer to
regard this move on his part as the first step in a better path. He was
a man of talent, and was never entirely absorbed in sensual pleasures.
When he took up the cause of the social democrats he began to think about
other things than his own selfish and immoral gratifications. For four
years he held the post of president of the “Universal German Laborers’
Union;” and in this position not only displayed administrative ability of
a high order, but manifested an unwearied devotion in his leadership. He
found the Union weak and about to fall to pieces; he left it a strong,
compact body. The _Social Democrat_, one of the most prominent organs
of the party, was founded by him, and in this paper he defended the
doctrines of Lassalle with vigor and understanding.
Von Schweitzer withdrew from the social democrats in 1871, and led
thenceforth an unexceptionable life. The love of woman had finally
conquered his wild nature. He was happily married, and passed the last
years of his life in literary pursuits. He died in 1875,[198] having
already gained an honorable position as an author.
The Union elected another president, who continued to hold the position
as long as the association existed. Its importance soon began to decline,
however, and it was finally absorbed by the organization formally
known as the “Social Democratic Labor Party” (“Social-demokratische
Arbeiterpartei”). This grew out of the alliance of “German Laborers’
Unions” (“Verband deutscher Arbeitervereine”), whose members were
gradually led over into the social democratic camp, as I described in
the first chapter of this work. The two leading spirits in this party,
which swallowed up all other social democratic organizations, were
Liebknecht and Bebel.
Liebknecht, unlike some of the other social democrats, is, as generally
admitted, personally an honorable man. Nothing can be said against
his private life. He differed from Marx, Lassalle, and Von Schweitzer
in family and fortune. He was born poor, and has always remained so.
While in party matters Liebknecht is unscrupulous as to means, he would
sacrifice no principle for the sake of personal gain or advancement. If
he had been less conscientious his life might have been a prosperous one.
I have it directly from a friend, who associated with him considerably in
Leipsic, that Bismarck offered him an excellent position as editor of the
_Kreuzzeitung_, which I have already mentioned as the leading organ of
the conservatives. Liebknecht declined promptly, and without hesitation,
what was intended as a bribe. He is satisfied with the merest necessities
of life, so long as he can serve his cause. Mehring, who is far from
being a social democrat, says that in this respect he is irreproachable.
“No one can accuse him of improper motives in the lower sense of the
term.” It is only when the cause of the social democrats is concerned
that he shows himself unscrupulous, exciting envy and discontent, and
arousing class against class. His ideas have taken such hold of him that
he cannot see the deeds of opponents in their true light. He ascribes the
worst of motives to what government does with the best intention.
Although he must be called a demagogue, Liebknecht is a highly educated
man. He comes of what the Germans call a _Beamtenfamilie_—_i.e._, of a
family whose members have for a long time devoted themselves to the civil
service. This implies, at least, education and social respectability.
Liebknecht was only sixteen years of age when he graduated from a German
gymnasium—what we would call a college—but he had already decided that
a career as a civil-service officer placed one in a position of such
dependence that it was unworthy of a freeman. At the university he
took no regular professional course, as he despised bread-and-butter
studies, but devoted himself to various branches of science according
to his inclination, or as he fancied they might contribute to the free
development of his mind. At twenty he thought he had freed himself from
bondage to the antiquated institutions of a corrupt world.
Liebknecht took part in the revolutionary movement of 1848 in Germany,
and threw himself into the contest with admirable personal bravery.
Regardless of danger, he was ever to be found in the thick of the fight.
When the rebellion was put down, he found it necessary to flee to
Switzerland, whence he emigrated to London, where he lived in exile for
thirteen years. His life in London was a hard struggle for existence,
and this may have embittered him. His associates, while there, were the
old rebels, Engels, Wolff, and Marx, and they must have confirmed him
in his views. Amnesty was granted him when the present Emperor William
was crowned King of Prussia, and he returned full of hatred for Germany.
He has devoted his entire life to the purpose of making propaganda for
social democracy, and has never for a moment forgotten his end and
aim. Mehring says that in the years since he again set foot on German
soil there has been, perhaps, no day, no hour, no minute in which
he has not been conscious of the object of his existence. It is this
indomitable will, this inflexible purpose, this devotion on the part of
men of learning and intelligence, which has filled the world with German
socialism. Anything like it has never been known in history.
Liebknecht is not original, but is able to interpret Marx to the common
people, since he is not too much ahead of them, but only far enough
to take the lead, to express thoughts struggling in their minds for
utterance. He takes, however, extreme positions, and injures himself and
his party thereby. While he can excite those already won over to his
side, he cannot gain adherents from those as yet undecided, still less
from those opposed. He cannot persuade such, because he is unable, even
for a moment, to place himself in their position so as to understand
their thoughts and feelings.
Bebel is a disciple of Liebknecht, and his most important one. He is
a turner by profession, and his only education was received in common
schools, in Sunday schools, and in travelling about from place to place
in the practice of his trade. He has never left his trade, and has never
made any pretensions to being anything more than an ordinary artisan. He
is sincere, simple, and of sound understanding. Bebel has been called the
incorporated ideal of a modern laborer in the best sense of the word.
This was, however, before he had been embittered by Liebknecht. He is
unassuming, but has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. His influence
on the people has been very great. He has a homely sort of eloquence
which appeals strongly to them. In the Imperial Parliament he has been
able to hold his own with men like Lasker and Simson, the Chief-justice
of the Supreme Court of Germany. Bebel’s historical importance lies in
the fact that he is the first and, up to the present time, the only
German artisan who has pushed himself into the foreground of political
life and shown himself an equal of other leaders.
He has become prosperous, and employs two or three hundred laborers.
He owns, also, a valuable house in Leipsic. Some have objected that he
was inconsistent in paying his employees just as other masters do and
in living well himself. Those who do so cannot understand the social
democrats. The very corner-stone of their belief is that the individual
is not responsible for the present condition of things; that harmony can
be secured only by the combined action of society—by a social, and not by
an individual, regeneration. All that the individual can do, they hold,
is to labor for the overthrow of existing society and the establishment
of the people’s state, and in the meanwhile to live like other people.
A change has taken place in German social democracy since the death of
Lassalle, who was a patriot, and with whom it was national. He sought
a basis in united Germany. Social democracy is now cosmopolitan and
international in the sense of anti-national. It has approached more and
more nearly to the most unqualified communism. Like French communism, it
lays most stress on equality, and at times appears ready to sacrifice
everything else to obtain that. The unity of interests (_solidarité_)
and economic equality (_egalité_) are the watchwords of the leaders.
Liebknecht says: “Human progress consists in the approach to equality;
freedom is only a conventional phrase, which conceals all possible
things.” It begins to be recognized that equality and liberty—as now
understood, at any rate—are incompatible, and greater value is attached
to the former.
Most, in his lecture in Baltimore, to which reference has already been
made, brought out vividly the gross, materialistic view the social
democrats take of liberty. “You boast of your American liberty,” cried
he, “but of what value is it? Has any one ever been able to clothe
himself with it? to house himself in it? or to satisfy with it the
cravings of his stomach?”
Previous to the attempts to take the life of the German emperor, in
1878, the necessity of overthrowing existing institutions by violence
was proclaimed with ever-increasing openness. Lassalle had spoken of
a radical change brought about peacefully, which he called a peaceful
revolution. The upper classes had the choice between yielding to the
demands of the fourth estate and a violent overthrow of existing economic
institutions. “I am persuaded,” said he, “that a revolution will take
place. It will take place legally and with all the blessings of freedom
if, before it is too late, our rulers become wise, determined, and
courageous enough to lead it. Otherwise, after the lapse of a certain
time, the goddess of revolution will force an entrance into our social
structure, amid all the convulsions of violence, with wild, streaming
locks and brazen sandals on her feet. In the one way or the other she
will come; and when, forgetting the tumult of the day, I sink myself in
history, I am able to hear from afar her heavy tread.”
But the social democrats soon became convinced that the existing powers
of state and society would not yield their positions without a combat.
Glorification of bloody struggles of laborers in the past became ever
more common. Laborers were taught that they had, in times gone by, seized
the sword and sacrificed life in behalf of their wealthy oppressors;
they were told that they must next use the weapons of war in their own
behalf, to fight for the day of their own deliverance from bondage.
This was made to appear just by representing them as humanity and the
few rich people as wilfully cruel and wicked taskmasters. The presiding
officer of the Social Democratic Congress, in 1869, used these words in
the address with which he closed their meetings: “There is a tree which
bears golden fruit, but when those who have planted it reach out their
hand to pluck it, it draws back and escapes them. Wound about the tree
there is a serpent, which keeps every one away from it. This tree is
society; the serpent is our present economic organization, which prevents
us from enjoying the golden fruit. Gentlemen, we are determined to enjoy
the golden fruit and to drive away the serpent. If that cannot be done in
peace, then, as men who do not tremble before a conflict, are we ready to
fell the old tree, and in its place to set a new, powerful tree.”
This sort of talk was stopped by the stringent law which was enacted
after the attempts on the life of the emperor. There is no evidence
to warrant the belief that the social democratic party had any direct
connection with these attempts, but those who committed them had been,
doubtless, excited by the constant talk of wrong and oppression, and of
release therefrom by a destruction of our present leaders of society.
They consequently struck at its very head.
Social democrats are fond of comparing themselves to the early
Christians. They speak of their leaders as the apostles of the present
and of laborers as the rock upon which the Church of the future must be
built. The German has a strongly religious nature, of which he can never
divest himself. So these social democrats make their economic belief a
matter of religion, and therein attempt, even unconsciously, to satisfy
their religious feelings.
We would not, for a moment, accept the comparison between social
democracy and Christianity in the sense in which these men mean it. Yet
when we find rude, uneducated men—for such are the social democratic
masses—turning the world upside-down, and striking terror into the hearts
of the powers that be, we are reminded of that earlier faith, propagated
by poor, ignorant men, which, in the course of centuries, has become
more powerful than statesmen, monarchs, and armies. No one, save a fool,
would pretend to be able to describe exactly the ultimate organization of
society; but we know that in profane, as well as in sacred, history, weak
and contemptible beginnings have, ere this, led to grand and glorious
growths and developments.