WHIGS, DEMOCRATS, AND SOCIALISTS. {37a}

WHAT is the state of parties in England to-day? How shall we enumerate

them? The Whigs, who stand first on the list in my title, are considered

generally to be the survival of an old historical party once looked on as

having democratic tendencies, but now the hope of all who would stand

soberly on the ancient ways. Besides these, there are Tories also, the

descendants of the stout defenders of Church and State and the divine

right of kings.

Now, I don’t mean to say but that at the back of this ancient name of

Tory there lies a great mass of genuine Conservative feeling, held by

people who, if they had their own way, would play some rather fantastic

tricks, I fancy; nay, even might in the course of time be somewhat rough

with such people as are in this hall at present. {37b} But this feeling,

after all, is only a sentiment now; all practical hope has died out of

it, and these worthy people _cannot_ have their own way. It is true that

they elect members of Parliament, who talk very big to please them, and

sometimes even they manage to get a Government into power that nominally

represents their sentiment, but when that happens the said Government is

forced, even when its party has a majority in the House of Commons, to

take a much lower standpoint than the high Tory ideal; the utmost that

the real Tory party can do, even when backed by the Primrose League and

its sham hierarchy, is to delude the electors to return Tories to

Parliament to pass measures more akin to Radicalism than the Whigs durst

attempt, so that, though there are Tories, there is no Tory party in

England.

On the other hand, there is a party, which I can call for the present by

no other name than Whig, which is both numerous and very powerful, and

which does, in fact, govern England, and to my mind will always do so as

long as the present constitutional Parliament lasts. Of course, like all

parties it includes men of various shades of opinion, from the

Tory-tinted Whiggery of Lord Salisbury to the Radical-tinted Whiggery of

Mr. Chamberlain’s present tail. Neither do I mean to say that they are

conscious of being a united party; on the contrary, the groups will

sometimes oppose each other furiously at elections, and perhaps the more

simple-minded of them really think that it is a matter of importance to

the nation which section of them may be in power; but they may always be

reckoned upon to be in their places and vote against any measure which

carries with it a real attack on our constitutional system; surely very

naturally, since they are there for no other purpose than to do so. They

are, and always must be, conscious defenders of the present system,

political and economical, as long as they have any cohesion as Tories,

Whigs, Liberals, or even Radicals. Not one of them probably would go

such a very short journey towards revolution as the abolition of the

House of Lords. A one-chamber Parliament would seem to them an impious

horror, and the abolition of the monarchy they would consider a serious

inconvenience to the London tradesman.

Now this is the real Parliamentary Party, at present divided into jarring

sections under the influence of the survival of the party warfare of the

last few generations, but which already shows signs of sinking its

differences so as to offer a solid front of resistance to the growing

instinct which on its side will before long result in a party claiming

full economical as well as political freedom for the whole people.

But is there nothing in Parliament, or seeking entrance to it, except

this variously tinted Whiggery, this Harlequin of Reaction? Well, inside

Parliament, setting aside the Irish party, which is, we may now well

hope, merely temporarily there, there is not much. It is not among

people of “wealth and local influence,” who I see are supposed to be the

only available candidates for Parliament of a recognized party, that you

will find the elements of revolution. We will grant that there are some

few genuine Democrats there, and let them pass. But outside there are

undoubtedly many who are genuine Democrats, and who have it in their

heads that it is both possible and desirable to capture the

constitutional Parliament and turn it into a real popular assembly,

which, with the people behind it, might lead us peaceably and

constitutionally into the great Revolution which all _thoughtful_ men

desire to bring about; all thoughtful men, that is, who do not belong to

the consciously cynical Tories, _i.e._, men determined, whether it be

just or unjust, good for humanity or bad for it, to keep the people down

as long as they can, which they hope, very naturally, will be as long as

they live.

To capture Parliament and turn it into a popular but constitutional

assembly is, I must conclude, the aspiration of the genuine Democrats

wherever they may be found; that is their idea of the first step of the

Democratic policy. The questions to be asked of this, as of all other

policies, are first, What is the end proposed by it? and secondly, Are

they likely to succeed? As to the end proposed, I think there is much

difference of opinion. Some Democrats would answer from the merely

political point of view, and say: Universal suffrage, payment of members,

annual Parliaments, abolition of the House of Lords, abolition of the

monarchy, and so forth. I would answer this by saying: After all, these

are not ends, but means to an end; and passing by the fact that the last

two are not constitutional measures, and so could not be brought about

without actual rebellion, I would say if you had gained all these things,

and more, all you would have done would have been to establish the

ascendancy of the Democratic party; having so established it, you would

then have to find out by the usual party means what that Democratic party

meant, and you would find that your triumph in mere politics would lead

you back again exactly to the place you started from. You would be Whigs

under a different name. Monarchy, House of Lords, pensions, standing

army, and the rest of it, are only supports to the present social

system—the _privilege_ based on the wages and capital system of

production—and are worth nothing except as supports to it. If you are

determined to support that system, therefore, you had better leave these

things alone. The real masters of Society, the real tyrants of the

people, are the Landlords and Capitalists, whom your political triumph

would not interfere with.

Then, as now, there would be a proletariat and a moneyed class. Then, as

now, it would be possible sometimes for a diligent, energetic man, with

his mind set wholly on such success, to climb out of the proletariat into

the moneyed class, there to sweat as he once was sweated; which, my

friends, is, if you will excuse the word, your ridiculous idea of freedom

of contract.

The sole and utmost success of your policy would be that it might raise

up a strong opposition to the condition of things which it would be your

function to uphold; but most probably such opposition would still be

outside Parliament, and not in it; you would have made a revolution,

probably not without bloodshed, only to show people the necessity for

another revolution the very next day.

Will you think the example of America too trite? Anyhow, consider it! A

country with universal suffrage, no king, no House of Lords, no privilege

as you fondly think; only a little standing army, chiefly used for the

murder of red-skins; a democracy after your model; and with all that, a

society corrupt to the core, and at this moment engaged in suppressing

freedom with just the same reckless brutality and blind ignorance as the

Czar of all the Russias uses. {43}

But it will be said, and certainly with much truth, that not all the

Democrats are for mere political reform. I say that I believe that this

is true, and it is a very important truth too. I will go farther, and

will say that all those Democrats who can be distinguished from Whigs do

intend social reforms which they hope will somewhat alter the relations

of the classes towards each other; and there is, generally speaking,

amongst Democrats a leaning towards a kind of limited State-Socialism,

and it is through that that they hope to bring about a peaceful

revolution, which, if it does not introduce a condition of equality, will

at least make the workers better off and contented with their lot.

They hope to get a body of representatives elected to Parliament, and by

them to get measure after measure passed which will tend towards this

goal; nor would some of them, perhaps most of them, be discontented if by

this means we could glide into complete State-Socialism. I think that

the present Democrats are widely tinged with this idea, and to me it is a

matter of hope that it is so; whatever of error there is in it, it means

advance beyond the complete barrenness of the mere political programme.

Yet I must point out to these semi-Socialist Democrats that in the first

place they will be made the cat’s-paw of some of the wilier of the Whigs.

There are several of these measures which look to some Socialistic, as,

for instance, the allotments scheme, and other schemes tending toward

peasant proprietorship, co-operation, and the like, but which after all,

in spite of their benevolent appearance, are really weapons in the hands

of reactionaries, having for their real object the creation of a new

middle-class made out of the working-class and at their expense; the

raising, in short, of a new army against the attack of the disinherited.

There is no end to this kind of dodge, nor will be apparently till there

is an end of the class which tries it on; and a great many of the

Democrats will be amused and absorbed by it from time to time. They call

this sort of nonsense “practical;” it _seems_ like doing something, while

the steady propaganda of a principle which must prevail in the end is,

according to them, doing nothing, and is unpractical. For the rest, it

is not likely to become dangerous, further than as it clogs the wheels of

the real movement somewhat, because it is sometimes a mere piece of

reaction, as when, for instance, it takes the form of peasant

proprietorship, flying right in the face of the commercial development of

the day, which tends ever more and more towards the aggregation of

capital, thereby smoothing the way for the organized possession of the

means of production by the workers when the true revolution shall come:

while, on the other hand, when this attempt to manufacture a new

middle-class takes the form of co-operation and the like, it is not

dangerous, because it means nothing more than a slightly altered form of

joint-stockery, and everybody almost is beginning to see this. The greed

of men stimulated by the spectacle of profit-making all around them, and

also by the burden of the interest on the money which they have been

obliged to borrow, will not allow them even to approach a true system of

co-operation. Those benefited by the transaction presently become eager

shareholders in a commercial speculation, and if they are working-men, as

they often are, they are also capitalists. The enormous commercial

success of the great co-operative societies, and the absolute no-effect

of that success on the social conditions of the workers, are sufficient

tokens of what this non-political co-operation must come to: “Nothing—it

shall not be less.”

But again, it may be said, some of the Democrats go farther than this;

they take up actual pieces of Socialism, and are more than inclined to

support them. Nationalization of the land, or of railways, or cumulative

taxation on incomes, or limiting the right of inheritance, or new factory

laws, or the restriction by law of the day’s labour—one of these, or more

than one sometimes, the Democrats will support, and see absolute

salvation in these one or two planks of the platform. All this I admit,

and once again say it is a hopeful sign, and yet once again I say there

is a snare in it—a snake lies lurking in the grass.

Those who think that they can deal with our present system in this

piecemeal way very much underrate the strength of the tremendous

organization under which we live, and which appoints to each of us his

place, and if we do not chance to fit it, grinds us down till we do.

Nothing but a tremendous force can deal with this force; it will not

suffer itself to be dismembered, nor to lose anything which really is its

essence without putting forth all its force in resistance; rather than

lose anything which it considers of importance, it will pull the roof of

the world down upon its head. For, indeed, I grant these semi-Socialist

Democrats that there is one hope for their tampering piecemeal with our

Society; if by chance they can excite people into seriously, however

blindly, claiming one or other of these things in question, and could be

successful in Parliament in driving it through, they would certainly draw

on a great civil war, and such a war once let loose would not end but

either with the full triumph of Socialism or its extinction for the

present; it would be impossible to limit the aim of the struggle; nor can

we even guess at the course which it would take, except that it could not

be a matter of compromise. But suppose the Democratic party peaceably

successful on this new basis of semi-State Socialism, what would it all

mean? Attempts to balance the two classes whose interests are opposed to

each other, a mere ignoring of this antagonism which has led us through

so many centuries to where we are now, and then, after a period of

disappointment and disaster, the naked conflict once more; a revolution

made, and another immediately necessary on its morrow!

Yet, indeed, it will not come to that; for, whatever may be the aims of

the Democrats, they will not succeed in getting themselves into a

position from whence they could make the attempt to realize them. I have

said there are Tories and yet no real Tory party; so also it seems to me

that there are Democrats but no Democratic party; at present they are

used by the leaders of the parliamentary factions, and also kept at a

distance by them from any real power. If they by hook or crook managed

to get a number of members into Parliament, they would find out their

differences very speedily under the influence of party rule; in point of

fact, the Democrats are not a party; because they have no principles

other than the old Whig-Radical ones, extended in some cases so as to

take in a little semi-Socialism which the march of events has forced on

them—that is, they gravitate on one side to the Whigs and on the other to

the Socialists. Whenever, if ever, they begin to be a power in the

elections and get members in the House, the temptation to be members of a

real live party which may have the government of the country in its

hands, the temptation to what is (facetiously, I suppose) called

practical politics, will be too much for many, even of those who

gravitate towards Socialism; a quasi-Democratic parliamentary party,

therefore, would probably be merely a recruiting ground, a nursery for

the left wing of the Whigs; though it would indeed leave behind some

small nucleus of opposition, the principles of which, however, would be

vague and floating, so that it would be but a powerless group after all.

The future of the constitutional Parliament, therefore, it seems to me,

is a perpetual Whig Rump, which will yield to pressure when mere

political reforms are attempted to be got out of it, but will be quite

immovable towards any real change in social and economical matters; that

is to say, so far as it may be conscious of the attack; for I grant that

it may be _betrayed_ into passing semi-State-Socialistic measures, which

will do this amount of good, that they will help to entangle commerce in

difficulties, and so add to discontent by creating suffering; suffering

of which the people will not understand the causes definitely, but which

their instinct will tell them truly is brought about by _government_, and

that, too, the only kind of government which they can have so long as the

constitutional Parliament lasts.

Now, if you think I have exaggerated the power of the Whigs, that is, of

solid, dead, unmoving resistance to progress, I must call your attention

to the events of the last few weeks. Here has been a measure of

pacification proposed; at the least and worst an attempt to enter upon a

pacification of a weary and miserable quarrel many centuries old. The

British people, in spite of their hereditary prejudice against the Irish,

were not averse to the measure; the Tories were, as usual, powerless

against it; yet so strong has been the _vis inertiæ_ of Whiggery that it

has won a notable victory over common-sense and sentiment combined, and

has drawn over to it a section of those hitherto known as Radicals, and

probably would have drawn all Radicals over but for the personal

ascendancy of Mr. Gladstone. The Whigs, seeing, if but dimly, that this

Irish Independence meant an attack on property, have been successful in

snatching the promised peace out of the people’s hands, and in preparing

all kinds of entanglement and confusion for us for a long while in their

steady resistance to even the beginnings of revolution.

This, therefore, is what Parliament looks to me: a solid central party,

with mere nebulous opposition on the right hand and on the left. The

people governed; that is to say, fair play amongst themselves for the

money-privileged classes to make the most of their privilege, and to

fight sturdily with each other in doing so; but the government concealed

as much as possible, and also as long as possible; that is to say, the

government resting on an assumed necessary eternity of privilege to

monopolize the means of the fructification of labour.

For so long as that assumption is accepted by the ignorance of the

people, the Great Whig Rump will remain inexpugnable, but as soon as the

people’s eyes are opened, even partially—and they begin to understand the

meaning of the words, the Emancipation of Labour—we shall begin to have

an assured hope of throwing off the basest and most sordid tyranny which

the world has yet seen, the tyranny of so-called Constitutionalism.

How, then, are the people’s eyes to be opened? By the force evolved from

the final triumph and consequent corruption of Commercial Whiggery, which

force will include in it a recognition of its constructive activity by

intelligent people on the one hand, and on the other half-blind

instinctive struggles to use its destructive activity on the part of

those who suffer and have not been allowed to think; and, to boot, a

great deal that goes between those two extremes.

In this turmoil, all those who can be truly called Socialists will be

involved. The modern development of the great class-struggle has forced

us to think, our thoughts force us to speak, and our hopes force us to

try to get a hearing from the people. Nor can one tell how far our words

will carry, so to say. The most moderate exposition of our principles

will bear with it the seeds of disruption; nor can we tell what form that

disruption will take.

One and all, then, we are responsible for the enunciation of Socialist

principles and of the consequences which may flow from their general

acceptance, whatever that may be. This responsibility no Socialist can

shake off by declarations against physical force and in favour of

constitutional methods of agitation; we are attacking the Constitution

with the very beginnings, the mere lispings, of Socialism.

Whiggery, therefore, in its various forms, is the representative of

Constitutionalism—is the outward expression of monopoly and consequent

artificial restraints on labour and life; and there is only one

expression of the force which will destroy Whiggery, and that is

Socialism; and on the right hand and on the left Toryism and Radicalism

will melt into Whiggery—are doing so now—and Socialism has got to absorb

all that is not Whig in Radicalism.

Then comes the question, What is the policy of Socialism? If Toryism and

Democracy are only nebulous masses of opposition to the solid centre of

Whiggery, what can we call Socialism?

Well, at present, in England at least, Socialism is not a party, but a

sect. That is sometimes brought against it as a taunt; but I am not

dismayed by it; for I can conceive of a sect—nay, I have heard of

one—becoming a very formidable power, and becoming so by dint of its long

remaining a sect. So I think it is quite possible that Socialism will

remain a sect till the very eve of the last stroke that completes the

revolution, after which it will melt into the new Society. And is it not

sects, bodies of definite, uncompromising principles, that lead us into

revolutions? Was it not so in the Cromwellian times? Nay, have not the

Fenian sect, even in our own days, made Home Rule possible? They may

give birth to parties, though not parties themselves. And what should a

sect like we are have to do in the parliamentary struggle—we who have an

ideal to keep always before ourselves and others, and who cannot accept

compromise; who can see nothing that can give us rest for a minute save

the emancipation of labour, which will be brought about by the workers

gaining possession of all the means of the fructification of labour; and

who, even when that is gained, shall have pure Communism ahead to strive

for?

What are we to do, then? Stand by and look on? Not exactly. Yet we may

look on other people doing their work while we do ours. They are already

beginning, as I have said, to stumble about with attempts at State

Socialism. Let them make their experiments and blunders, and prepare the

way for us by so doing. And our own business? Well, we—sect or party,

or group of self-seekers, madmen, and poets, which you will—are at least

the only set of people who have been able to see that there is and has

been a great class-struggle going on. Further, we can see that this

class-struggle cannot come to an end till the classes themselves do: one

class must absorb the other. Which, then? Surely the useful one, the

one that the world lives by, and on. The business of the people at

present is to make it impossible for the useless, non-producing class to

live; while the business of Constitutionalism is, on the contrary, to

make it possible for them to live. And our business is to help to make

the people _conscious_ of this great antagonism between the people and

Constitutionalism; and meantime to let Constitutionalism go on with its

government unhelped by us at least, until it at last becomes _conscious_

of its burden of the people’s hate, of the people’s knowledge that it is

disinherited, which we shall have done our best to further by any means

that we could.

As to Socialists in Parliament, there are two words about that. If they

go there to take a part in carrying on Constitutionalism by palliating

the evils of the system, and so helping our rulers to bear their burden

of government, I for one, and so far as their action therein goes, cannot

call them Socialists at all. But if they go there with the intention of

doing what they can towards the disruption of Parliament, that is a

matter of tactics for the time being; but even here I cannot help seeing

the danger of their being seduced from their true errand, and I fear that

they might become, on the terms above mentioned, simply supporters of the

very thing they set out to undo.

I say that our work lies quite outside Parliament, and it is to help to

educate the people by every and any means that may be effective; and the

knowledge we have to help them to is threefold—to know their own, to know

how to take their own, and to know how to use their own.

Signs of Change · 第 6 / 12 题