BOLSHEVIST THEORY AND PRACTICE
I
Utopia-making is among the easiest and most fascinating of all intellectual
occupations. Few employments which can be called intellectual are easier
than that of devising panaceas for the ills of society, of demonstrating on
paper how the rough places of life may be made plain and its crooked ones
made straight. And it is not a vain and fruitless waste of effort and of
time, as things so easy of achievement often are. Many of the noblest minds
of all lands and all ages have found pleasure and satisfaction in the
imagining of ideal commonwealths and by so doing have rendered great
service to mankind, enriching literature and, what is more important,
stimulating the urge and passion for improvement and the faith of men in
their power to climb to the farthest heights of their dreams. But the
material of life is hard and lacks the plastic quality of inspired
imagination. Though there is probably no single evil which exists for which
a solution has not been devised in the wonderful laboratory of visioning,
the perversity of the subtle and mysterious thing called life is such that
many great and grave evils continue to challenge, perplex, and harass our
humankind.
Yet, notwithstanding the plain lesson of history and experience, the
reminder impressed on every page of humanity's record, that between the
glow and the glamour of the vision and its actual realization stretches a
long, long road, there are many simple-minded souls to whom the vision
gleamed is as the goal attained. They do not distinguish between schemes on
paper and ideals crystallized into living realities. This type of mind is
far more common than is generally recognized; that is why so many people
quite seriously believe that the Bolsheviki have really established in
Russia a society which conforms to the generous ideals of social democracy.
They have read the rhetorical "decrees" and "proclamations" in which the
shibboleths of freedom and democracy abound, and are satisfied. Yet it
ought to be plainly evident to any intelligent person that, even if the
decrees and proclamations were as sound as they are in fact unsound, and as
definite as they are in fact vague, they would afford no real basis for
judging Bolshevism as an actual experiment in social polity. There is, in
ultimate analysis, only one test to apply to Bolshevism--namely, the test
of reality. We must ask what the Bolsheviki did, not what they professed;
what was the performance, not what was the promise.
Of course, this does not mean that we are to judge result wholly without
regard to aim. Admirable intention is still admirable as intention, even
when untoward circumstance defeats it and brings deplorable results.
Bolshevism is not merely a body of belief and speculation. When the
Bolsheviki seized the government of Russia and began to attempt to carry
out their ideas, Bolshevism became a living movement in a world of reality
and subject to the acid test of pragmatic criteria. It must be judged by
such a matter-of-fact standard as the extent to which it has enlarged or
diminished the happiness, health, comfort, freedom, well-being,
satisfaction, and efficiency of the greatest number of individuals. Unless
the test shows that it has increased the sum of good available for the
mass, Bolshevism cannot be regarded as a gain. If, on the contrary, the
test shows that it has resulted in sensibly diminishing the sum of good
available to the greatest number of people, Bolshevism must be counted as a
move in the wrong direction, as so much effort lost. Nothing that can be
urged on philosophical or moral grounds for or against the moral or
intellectual impulses that prompted it can fundamentally change the
verdict. Yet, for all that, it is well to examine the theory which inspires
the practice; well to know the manner and method of thinking, and the view
of life, from which Bolshevism as a movement of masses of men and women
proceeds.
Theoretically, Bolshevism, as such, has no necessary connection with the
philosophy or the program of Socialism. Certain persons have established a
working relation between Socialism, a program, and Bolshevism, a method.
The connection is not inherently logical, but, on the contrary, wholly
adventitious. As a matter of fact, Bolshevism can only be linked to the
program of Socialism by violently and disastrously weakening the latter and
destroying its fundamental character. We shall do well to remember this; to
remember that the method of action, and, back of the method, the philosophy
on which it rests and from which it springs, are separate and distinct from
Socialism. They are incalculably older and they have been associated with
vastly different programs. All that is new in Bolshevism is that a very old
method of action, and a very old philosophy of action, have been seized
upon by a new class which attempts to unite them to a new program.
That is all that is implied in the "dictatorship of the proletariat."
Dictatorship by small minorities is not a new political phenomenon. All
that is new when the minority attempting to establish its dictatorship is
composed of poor, propertyless people, is the fact of their economic
condition and status. That is the only difference between the dictatorship
of Russia by the Romanov dynasty and the dictatorship of Russia by a small
minority of determined, class-conscious working-people. It is not only the
precise forms of oppressive power used by them that are identically
characteristic of Czarism and Bolshevism, but their underlying philosophy.
Both forms of dictatorship rest upon the philosophy of might as the only
valid right. Militarism, especially as it was developed under Prussian
leadership, has exactly the same philosophy and aims at the same general
result, namely, to establish the domination and control of society by a
minority class. The Bolsheviki have simply inverted Czarism and Militarism.
What really shocks the majority of people is not, after all, the methods or
the philosophy of Bolshevism, but the fact that the Bolsheviki, belonging
to a subject class, have seized upon the methods and philosophy of the most
powerful ruling classes and turned them to their own account. There is a
class morality and a class psychology the subtle influences of which few
perceive as a matter of habit, which, however, to a great extent shape our
judgments, our sympathies, and our antipathies. Men who never were shocked
when a Czar, speaking the language of piety and religion, indulged in the
most infamous methods and deeds of terror and oppression, are shocked
beyond all power of adequate expression when former subjects of that same
Czar, speaking the language of the religion of democracy and freedom,
resort to the same infamous methods of terror and oppression.
II
The idea that a revolting proletarian minority might by force impose its
rule upon society runs through the history of the modern working class, a
note of impatient, desperate, menacing despair. The Bolsheviki say that
they are Marxian Socialists; that Marx believed in and advocated the
setting up, during the transitory period of social revolution, of the
"dictatorship of the proletariat." They are not quite honest in this claim,
however; they are indulging in verbal tricks. It is true that Marx taught
that the proletarian dominion of society, as a preliminary to the abolition
of all class rule of every kind, must be regarded as certain and
inevitable. But it is not honest to claim the sanction of his teaching for
the seizure of political power by a small class, consisting of about 6 per
cent. of the population, and the imposition by force of its rule upon the
majority of the population that is either unwilling or passive. That is the
negation of Marxian Socialism. _It is the essence of Marx's teaching that
the social revolution must come as a historical necessity when the
proletariat itself comprises an overwhelming majority of the people_.
Let us summarize the theory as it appears in the _Communist Manifesto_:
Marx begins by setting forth the fact that class conflict is as old as
civilization itself, that history is very largely the record of conflicts
between contending social classes. In our epoch, he argues, class conflict
is greatly simplified; there is really only one division, that which
divides the bourgeoisie and the proletariat: "Society as a whole is more
and more splitting up into great hostile camps, into two great classes
directly facing each other, bourgeoisie and proletariat." ... "With the
development of industry the proletariat not only increases in numbers; it
becomes concentrated in great masses, its strength grows, and it feels that
strength more." ... "The proletarian movement is the _self-conscious,
independent movement of the immense majority in the interests of the
immense majority_." It is this "immense majority" that is to establish its
dominion. Marx expressly points out that "all previous historical movements
were movements of minorities, or in the interest of minorities." It is the
great merit of the movement of the proletariat, as he conceives it, that it
is the "movement of the immense majority, in the interests of the immense
majority."
Clearly, when Lenine and his followers say that they take their doctrine of
the "dictatorship of the proletariat" from Marx, they pervert the truth;
they take from Marx only the phrase, not their fundamental policy. It is
not to be denied that there were times when Marx himself momentarily lapsed
into the error of Blanqui and the older school of Utopian, conspiratory
Socialists who believed that they could find a short cut to social
democracy; that by a surprise stroke, carefully prepared and daringly
executed, a small and desperate minority could overthrow the existing
social order and bring about Socialism. As Jaurès has pointed out,[50] the
mind of Marx sometimes harked back to the dramatic side of the French
Revolution, and was captivated by such episodes as the conspiracy of Babeuf
and his friends, who in their day, while the proletariat was a small
minority, even as it is in Russia now, sought to establish its dominion.
But it is well known that after the failure of the Paris Commune, in 1871,
Marx once and for all abandoned all belief in this form of the
"dictatorship of the proletariat," and in the possibility of securing
Socialism through the conspiratory action of minorities. He was even rather
unwilling that the _Manifesto_ should be republished after that, except as
a purely historical document. It was in that spirit of reaction that he and
Engels wrote in 1872 that passage--to which Lenine has given such an
unwarranted interpretation--in which they say that the Commune had shown
that "the working classes cannot simply take possession of the ready-made
state machine and set it in motion for their own aims."
It was no less an interpreter of Marx than his great collaborator and
friend, Frederick Engels, who, in 1895, stated the reasons for abandoning
all belief in the possibility of accomplishing anything through political
surprises and through the action of small conscious and determined
minorities at the head of unconscious masses:
History proved that we were wrong--we and those who like us, in
1848, awaited the speedy success of the proletariat. It became
perfectly clear _that economic conditions all over the Continent
were by no means as yet sufficiently matured for superseding the
capitalist organization of production_. This was proved by the
economic revolution which commenced on the continent of Europe
after 1848 and developed in France, Austria-Hungary, Poland, and,
recently, also in Russia, and made Germany into an industrial
state of the first rank--all on a capitalist basis, _which shows
that in 1848 the prevailing conditions were still capable of
expansion_. And to-day we have a huge international army of
Socialists.... If this mighty proletarian army has not yet reached
its goal, if it is destined to gain its ends only in a long drawn
out struggle, making headway but slowly, step by step, this only
proves how impossible it was in 1848 to change social conditions
by forcible means ... the time for small minorities to place
themselves at the head of the ignorant masses and resort to force
in order to bring about revolutions, is gone. _A complete change
in the organization of society can be brought about only by the
conscious co-operation of the masses_; they must be alive to the
aim in view; they must know what they want. The history of the
last fifty years has taught us that.[51]
What Engels had in mind when he stressed the fact that history showed that
in 1848 "the prevailing conditions were still capable of expansion" is the
central Marxian doctrine of historical inevitability. It is surely less
than honest to claim the prestige and authority of Marx's teachings upon
the slender basis of a distorted version of his early thought, while
completely ignoring the matured body of his doctrines. It may not matter
much to the world to-day what Marx thought, or how far Lenine follows his
teachings, but it is of importance that the claim set up by Lenine and
Trotzky and many of their followers that they are guided by the principles
of Marxian Socialism is itself demonstrably an evidence of moral or
intellectual obliquity, which makes them very dangerous guides to follow.
It is of importance, too, that the claim they make allures many Socialists
of trusting and uncritical minds to follow them.
Many times in his long life Marx, together with Engels, found himself
engaged in a fierce war against the very things Lenine and Trotzky and
their associates have been trying to do. He thundered against Weitling, who
wanted to have a "daring minority" seize the power of the state and
establish its dictatorship by a _coup d'état_. He was denounced as a
"reactionary" by Willich and Kinkel because, in 1850, he rejected with
scorn the idea of a sudden seizure of political power through conspiratory
action, and had the courage to say that it would take fifty years for the
workers "to fit themselves for political power." He opposed Lassalle's idea
of an armed insurrection in 1862, because he was certain that the economic
development had not yet reached the stage which alone could make a social
change possible. He fought with all the fierce impetuousness of his nature
every attempt of Bakunin to lead the workers to attempt the seizure of
political power and forcibly establish their rule while still a
minority.[52] He fought all these men because he had become profoundly
convinced that "_no social order ever disappears before all the productive
forces for which there is room in it have been developed; and new and
higher relations of production never appear before the material conditions
of their existence have matured in the womb of the old society_."[53] No
"dictatorship of the proletariat," no action by any minority, however well
armed or however desperate, can overcome that great law.
The "dictatorship of the proletariat" in the sense in which that term is
used by the Russian Bolshevik leaders, and by those who in other countries
are urging that their example be followed, is not a policy of Marxian
Socialism. It is not a product of modern conditions. Rather it harks back
to the earlier conspiratory Socialism of Blanqui, with its traditions
inherited from Robespierre and Babeuf. So far as its advocates are
concerned, Marx and the whole modern Socialist movement might as well never
have existed at all. They take us back three-quarters of a century, to the
era before Marx, to that past so remote in intellectual and moral
character, though recent in point of time, when the working class of no
country in Europe possessed the right to vote--when the workers were
indeed proletarians and not citizens; not only propertyless, but also
"without a fatherland."
In truth, it is not difficult to understand how this theory has found
acceptance in Russia. It was not difficult to understand why Marx's
doctrine of economic evolution was for many years rejected by most Russian
Socialists; why the latter took the view that Socialism must be more
quickly attained, that capitalism was not a necessary precursor of
Socialism in Russia, but that an intelligent leadership of passive masses
would successfully establish Socialism on the basis of the old Russian
communal institutions. It was quite easy to understand the change that came
with Russia's industrial awakening, how the development of factory
production gave an impetus to the Marxian theories. And, though it presents
a strange paradox, in that it comes at a time when, despite everything,
Russian capitalism continues to develop, it is really not difficult to
understand how and why pre-Marxian conceptions reappear in that great land
of paradoxes. Politically and intellectually the position of the
proletariat of Russia before the recent Revolution was that of the
proletariat of France in 1848.
But that which baffles the mind of the serious investigator is the
readiness of so many presumably intelligent people living in countries
where--as in America--wholly different conditions prevail to ignore the
differences and be ready to abandon all the democratic advance made by the
workers. There is nothing more certain in the whole range of social and
political life than the fact that the doctrine that the power of the state
must be seized and used by the proletariat against the non-proletarian
classes, even for a relatively brief period, _can only be carried out by
destroying all the democracy thus far achieved_.
III
The validity of the foregoing contention can scarcely be questioned, except
by those to whom phrases are of more consequence than facts, who place
theories above realities. The moment the Bolsheviki tried to translate
their rhetorical propaganda for the dictatorship of the proletariat into
the concrete terms of political reality they found that they were compelled
to direct their main opposition, not against the bourgeoisie, or even
against capitalism, but against the newly created democracy. In the
movement to create a democratic government resting upon the basis of
universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage they saw a peril to their
scheme far more formidable than militarism or capitalism. It was for this
reason that they set themselves to the task of suppressing the Constituent
Assembly. Only political simpletons will seriously regard the Bolshevik
attempt to camouflage their motive by pretending that they determined to
crush the Constituent Assembly because its members were elected on a
register that was "obsolete" and therefore no longer truly represented the
people.
The German Spartacides, who were acting in full accord with the Russian
Bolsheviki, had not that miserable excuse. Yet they set out by force of
arms to _prevent any election being held_. In this they were quite
consistent; they wanted to set up a dictatorship, and they knew that the
overwhelming mass of the people wanted something very different. At a
dinner of the Inter-Collegiate Socialist Society in New York, in December,
1918, a spokesman for the German variety of Bolshevism blandly explained
that "Karl Liebknecht and his comrades know that they cannot hope to get a
majority, therefore they are determined that no elections shall be held.
They will prevent this by force. After some time, perhaps, when a
proletarian régime has existed long enough, and people have become
convinced of the superiority of the Socialist way, or at least grown used
to it, _and it is safe to do so_, popular elections may be permitted."
Incredible as it seems, this declaration was received with cheers by an
audience which only a few minutes before had cheered with equal fervor
denunciations of "encroachments upon American democracy."
Curiously enough, the precise manner in which the Bolsheviki have acted
against democracy was set forth, as far back as 1850, by a German, Johann
von Miquel, in a letter to Karl Marx. Miquel was born in Hanover, but his
ancestors were of French origin. He studied at Heidelberg and Göttingen,
and became associated with the Socialist movement of the period. He settled
down to the practice of law, however, and when Hanover was annexed by
Prussia he entered the Prussian parliament. After the "dismissal of the
pilot," Bismarck, he became Prussian Minister of Finance, holding that
position for ten years. Liebknecht referred to him as "my former _comrade
in communismo_ and present Chancellor _in re_." This Miquel, while he was
still a Socialist, in 1850 wrote to Marx as follows:
The workers' party may succeed against the upper middle class and
what remains of the feudal element, _but it will be attacked on
its flank by the democracy_. We can perhaps give an anti-bourgeois
tone to the Revolution for a little while, _we can destroy the
essential conditions of bourgeois production_; but we cannot
possibly put down the small tradesmen and shopkeeping class, the
petty bourgeoisie. My motto is to secure all we can get. We should
prevent the lower and middle class from _forming any organizations
for as long a time as possible_ after the first victory, and
especially oppose ourselves in serried ranks to the plan of
calling a Constitutional Assembly. Partial terrorism, local
anarchy, must replace for us what we lack in bulk.
What a remarkable anticipation of the Bolshevist methods of 1917-18 is thus
outlined in this letter, written sixty-seven years before the Bolshevik
_coup d'état!_ How literally Lenine, Trotzky and Co. have followed Herr von
Miquel! They have desperately tried to "give an anti-bourgeois tone to the
Revolution," denouncing as bourgeois reactionaries the men and women whose
labors and sacrifices have made the Russian Socialist movement. They have
destroyed "the essential conditions" of bourgeois and of any other than the
most primitive production. They have set themselves in serried ranks in
opposition to "the plan of calling a Constitutional Assembly." They have
suppressed not only the organizations of the "lower and middle class," but
also those of a great part of the working class, thus going beyond Miquel.
Finally, to replace what they lack in bulk, they have resorted to "partial
terrorism and local anarchy."
And it is in the name of revolutionary progress, of ultra-radicalism, that
we are called upon to revert to the tactics of desperation born of the
discouraging conditions of nearly seventy years ago. A new philosophy has
taken possession of the easily possessed minds of Greenwich Village
philosophers and parlor revolutionists--a new philosophy of progress,
according to which revolutionary progress consists in the unraveling by
feverish fingers of the fabric woven through years of sacrifice; in
abandoning high levels attained for the lower levels from which the
struggles of the past raised us; in harking back to the thoughts and the
tactics of men who shouted their despairing, defiant cries into the gloom
of the blackest period of the nineteenth century!
Universal, secret, equal, and direct suffrage was a fact in Russia, the
first great achievement of the Revolution. Upon that foundation, and upon
no other, it was possible to build an enduring, comprehensive social
democracy. Against that foundation the Bolsheviki hurled their destructive
power, creating a discriminating class suffrage, disfranchising a great
part of the Russian people--not merely the bourgeoisie, but a considerable
part of the working class itself. Chapter XIII of Article 4 of the
Constitution of the "Russian Socialist Federated Soviet Republic" sets
forth the qualifications for voting, as follows:
THE RIGHT TO VOTE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
64. The right to vote and to be elected to the Soviets is enjoyed
by the following citizens, irrespective of religion, nationality,
domicile, etc., of the Russian Socialist Federated Soviet
Republic, of both sexes, who shall have completed their eighteenth
year by the day of election:
a. All who have acquired the means of living through labor that is
productive and useful to society, and also persons engaged in
housekeeping which enables the former to do productive work--i.e.,
laborers and employees of all classes who are employed in
industry, trade, agriculture, etc.; and peasants and Cossack
agricultural laborers who employ no help for the purpose of making
profits.
b. Soldiers of the army and navy of the Soviets.
c. Citizens of the two preceding categories who have to any degree
lost their capacity to work.
Note 1: Local Soviets may, upon approval of the central power,
lower the age standard mentioned herein.
Note 2: Non-citizens mentioned in Paragraph 20 (Article 2, Chapter
Five) have the right to vote.
65. The following persons enjoy neither the right to vote nor the
right to be voted for, even though they belong to one of the
categories enumerated above, namely:
a. Persons who employ hired labor in order to obtain from it an
increase in profits.
b. Persons who have an income without doing any work, such as
interest from capital, receipts from property, etc.
c. Private merchants, trade, and commercial brokers.
d. Monks and clergy of all denominations.
e. Employees and agents of the former police, the gendarme corps,
and the Okhrana (Czar's secret service), also members of the
former reigning dynasty.
f. Persons who have in legal form been declared demented or
mentally deficient, and also persons under guardianship.
g. Persons who have been deprived by a Soviet of their rights of
citizenship because of selfish or dishonorable offenses, for the
period fixed by the sentence.
Apparently the Constitution does not provide any standard for determining
what labor is "useful and productive to society," and leaves the way open
for a degree of arbitrariness on the part of some authority or other that
is wholly incompatible with any generally accepted ideal of freedom and
democracy. It is apparent from the text of paragraph 64, subdivision "a" of
the foregoing chapter that housekeeping as such is not included in the
category of "labor that is productive and useful to society," for a
separate category is made of it. The language used is that "The right to
vote and to be elected to the Soviets is enjoyed by.... All who have
acquired the means of living through labor that is productive and useful to
society, _and also_ persons engaged in housekeeping, which enables the
former to do productive work--_i.e._, laborers and employees of all classes
who are employed in industry, trade, agriculture, etc."
This _seems_ to mean that persons engaged in housekeeping can only vote if
and when they are so engaged in order to enable other persons than
themselves to do "productive work." It appears that housekeeping for
persons not engaged in such productive work--for children, for
example--would not confer the right to vote. It is not possible to tell
with certainty what it _does_ mean, however, for there is probably not a
single person in Russia or in the world who can tell exactly what this
precious instrument actually means. What standard is to be established to
determine what labor is "productive" and "useful"? Is the journalist, for
instance, engaged in useful and productive labor? Is the novelist? is the
agitator? Presumably the journalist employed in defending the Soviet
Republic against attacks by unfriendly critics would be doing useful work
and be entitled to vote, but what about the journalist employed in making
the criticisms? Would the wife of the latter, no matter how much she might
disagree with her husband's views, be barred from voting, simply because
she was "engaged in housekeeping" for one whose labors were not regarded
"productive and useful to society"? If the language used means anything at
all, apparently she would be so disfranchised.
Upon what ground is it decided that the "private merchant" may not vote?
Certainly it is not because his labor is of necessity neither productive
nor useful, for paragraph 65 says that even though belonging to one of the
categories of persons otherwise qualified to vote, the private merchant may
"enjoy neither the right to vote nor to be voted for." The keeper of a
little grocery store, even though his income is not greater than that of a
mechanic, and despite the fact that his store meets a local need and makes
his services, therefore, "useful" in the highest degree, cannot enjoy civic
rights, simply because he is a "merchant"! The clergy of all denominations
are excluded from the franchise. It does not matter, according to this
constitution, that a minister belongs to a church independent of any
connection with the state, that he is elected by people who desire his
services and is paid by them, that he satisfies them and is therefore
doing a "useful service"--if utility means the satisfying of needs--because
he is so employed he cannot vote.
It is clearly provided that "peasants and Cossack agricultural laborers who
employ no help for the purpose of making profits" can vote and be voted
for. But no persons "who employ hired labor in order to obtain from it an
increase in profits" may vote or be elected to office, _even though the
work they do is productive and useful to society._ A peasant who hires no
assistance may vote, but if he decides that by employing a boy to help him
he will be able to give better attention to certain crops and make more
money, even though he pays the boy every penny that the service is worth,
judged by any standard whatever, he loses his vote and his civic status
because, forsooth, he has gained in his net income as a result of his
enterprise. And this is seriously put forward as the basis of government in
a nation needing an intense and universal stimulation of its economic
production.
A militant suffragist friend of mine, whose passion for universal suffrage
in America is so great that it leads her to join in all sorts of
demonstrations protesting against the failure of the United States Senate
to pass the Susan B. Anthony amendment--even leading her to join in the
public burning of President Wilson's speeches, a queer emulation of the
ancient ecclesiastical bigotry of burning heretical books!--manages to
unite to her passion for equal and unrestricted suffrage an equally
passionate admiration for the Bolsheviki, arch-enemies of equal and
unrestricted suffrage. Her case is not exceptional: it is rather typical of
the Bolshevik following in England and in America. Such minds are not
governed and directed by rational processes, but by emotional impulses,
generally of pathological origin.
What the Bolshevik constitution would mean if practically applied to
American life to-day can be briefly indicated. The following classes would
certainly be entitled to vote and to be elected to office:
1. All wage-earners engaged in the production of goods and utilities
regarded by some designated authority as "productive and useful to
society."
2. Teachers and educators engaged in the public service.
3. All farmers owning and working their own farms without hired help of any
kind.
4. All wage-earners engaged in the public service as employees of the
state, subdivisions of the state, or public service corporations-such as
postal clerks, street-railway workers, electricians, and so on.
5. Wives and others engaged in keeping the homes of the foregoing, so as to
enable them to work.
6. The "soldiers of the army and navy"--whether all officers are included
is not clear from the text.
Now let us see what classes would be as certainly excluded from the right
to vote and to be voted for.
1. Every merchant from the keeper of a corner grocery store to the owner of
a great mercantile establishment.
2. Every banker, every commission agent, every broker, every insurance
agent, every real-estate dealer.
3. Every farmer who hires help of any kind--even a single "hand."
4. Every petty contractor, garage-keeper, or other person employing any
hired help whatever, including the professional writer who hires a
stenographer, the doctor who hires a chauffeur, and the dentist who hires a
mechanic assistant.
5. Every clergyman and minister of the Gospel.
6. Every person whose income is derived from inherited wealth or from
invested earnings, including all who live upon annuities provided by gift
or bequest.
7. Every person engaged in housekeeping for persons included in any of the
foregoing six categories--including the wives of such disqualified persons.
There are many occupational groups whose civic status is not so easily
defined. The worker engaged in making articles of luxury, enjoyed only by
the privileged few, could hardly have a better claim to a vote than the
housekeeper of a man whose income was derived from foreign investments, or
than the chauffeur of a man whose income was derived from government bonds.
All three represent, presumably, types of that parasitic labor which
subjects those engaged in it to disfranchisement. Apparently, though not
certainly, then, the following would also be disfranchised:
1. All lawyers except those engaged by the public authorities for the
public service.
2. All teachers and educators other than those engaged in the public
service.
3. All bankers, managers of industries, commercial travelers, experts, and
accountants except those employed in the public service, or whose labor is
judged by a competent tribunal to be necessary and useful.
4. All editors, journalists, authors of books and plays, except as special
provision might be provided for individuals.
5. All persons engaged in occupations which a competent tribunal decided to
classify as non-essential or non-productive.
Any serious attempt to introduce such restrictions and limitations of the
right of suffrage in America would provoke irresistible revolt. It would be
justly and properly regarded as an attempt to arrest the forward march of
the nation and to turn its energies in a backward direction. It would be
just as reactionary in the political world as it would be in the industrial
world to revert back to hand-tool production; to substitute the ox-team for
the railway system, the hand-loom for the power-loom, the flail for the
threshing-machine, the sickle for the modern harvesting-machine, the human
courier for the electric telegraph.
Yet we find a radical like Mr. Max Eastman giving his benediction and
approval to precisely such a program in Russia as a substitute for
universal suffrage. We find him quoting with apparent approval an article
setting forth Lenine's plan, hardly disguised, to disfranchise every farmer
who employs even a single hired helper.[54]
Lenine's position is quite clear. "Only the proletariat leading on the
poorest peasants (the semi-proletariat as they are called in our program)
... may undertake the steps toward Socialism that have become absolutely
unavoidable and non-postponable.... The peasants want to retain their small
holdings and to arrive at some place of equal distribution.... So be it. No
sensible Socialist will quarrel with a pauper peasant on this ground. If
the lands are confiscated, _so long as the proletarians rule in the great
centers, and all political power is handed over to the proletariat_, the
rest will take care of itself."[55] Yet, in spite of Lenine's insistence
that all political power be "handed over to the proletariat," in spite of a
score of similar utterances which might be quoted, and, finally, in spite
of the Soviet Constitution which so obviously excludes from the right to
vote a large part of the adult population, an American Bolshevist
pamphleteer has the effrontery to insult the intelligence of his readers
by the stupidly and palpably false statement that "even at the present time
95 per cent. in Russia can vote, while in the United States only about 65
per cent. can vote."[56]
Of course it is only as a temporary measure that this dictatorship of a
class is to be maintained. It is designed only for the period of transition
and adjustment. In time the adjustment will be made, all forms of social
parasitism and economic exploitation will disappear, and then it will be
both possible and natural to revert to democratic government. Too simple
and naïve to be trusted alone in a world so full of trickery and tricksters
as ours are they who find any asurance in this promise. They are surely
among the most gullible of our humankind!
Of course, the answer to the claim is a very simple one: it is that no
class gaining privilege and power ever surrenders it until it is compelled
to do so. Every one who has read the pre-Marxian literature dealing with
the dictatorship of the proletariat knows how insistent is the demand that
the period of dictatorship must be _prolonged as much as possible_. Even
Marx himself insisted, on one occasion at least, that it must be maintained
as long as possible,[57] and in the letter of Johann von Miquel, already
quoted, we find the same thought expressed in the same terms, "as long as
possible." But even if we put aside these warnings of human experience and
of recorded history, and persuade ourselves that in Russia we have a wholly
new phenomenon, a class possessing powers of dictatorship animated by a
burning passion to relinquish those powers as quickly as possible, is it
not still evident that the social adjustments that must be made to reach
the stage where, according to the Bolshevik standards, political democracy
can be introduced, must, under the most favorable circumstances
conceivable, take many, many years? Even Lenine admits that "a sound
solution of the problem of increasing the productivity of labor" (which
lies at the very heart of the problem we are now discussing) "requires at
least (especially after a most distressing and destructive war) several
years."[58]
From the point of view of social democracy the basis of the Bolshevik state
is reactionary and unsound. The true Socialist policy is that set forth by
Wilhelm Liebknecht in the following words: "The political power which the
Social Democracy aims at and which it will win, no matter what its enemies
may do, _has not for its object the establishment of the dictatorship of
the proletariat, but the suppression of the dictatorship of the
bourgeoisie_."[59]
IV
Democracy in government and in industry must characterize any system of
society which can be justly called Socialist. Thirteen years ago I wrote,
"Socialism without democracy is as impossible as a shadow without
light."[60] That seemed to me then, as it seems to-day, axiomatic. And so
the greatest Socialist thinkers and leaders always regarded it. "We have
perceived that Socialism and democracy are inseparable," declared William
Liebknecht, the well-beloved, in 1899.[61] Thirty years earlier, in 1869,
he had given lucid expression to the same conviction in these words:
"Socialism and democracy are not the same, but they are only different
expressions of the same fundamental idea. They belong to each other, round
out each other, and can never stand in contradiction to each other.
Socialism without democracy is pseudo-Socialism, just as democracy without
Socialism is pseudo-democracy."[62] Democracy in industry is, as I have
insisted in my writing with unfailing consistency, as inseparable from
Socialism as democracy in government.[63] Unless industry is brought within
the control of democracy and made responsive to the common will, Socialism
is not attained.
Everywhere the organized working class aspires to attain that industrial
democracy which is the counterpart of political democracy. Syndicalism,
with all its vagaries, its crude reversal to outworn ideas and methods, is,
nevertheless, fundamentally an expression of that yearning. It is the same
passion that lies back of the Shop Stewards' movement in England, and that
inspires the much more patiently and carefully developed theories and plans
of the advocates of "Guild Socialism." Motived by the same desire, our
American labor-unions are demanding, and steadily gaining, an increasing
share in the actual direction of industry. Joint control by boards composed
of representatives of employers, employees, and the general public is, to
an ever-increasing extent, determining the conditions of employment, wage
standards, work standards, hours of labor, choice and conduct of foremen,
and many other matters of vital importance to the wage-earners. That we
are still a long way from anything like industrial democracy is all too
painfully true and obvious, but it is equally obvious that we are
struggling toward the goal, and that there is a serious purpose and
intention to realize the ideal.
Impelled by the inexorable logic of its own existence as a dictatorship,
the Bolshevik government has had to set itself against any and every
manifestation of democracy in industry with the same relentless force as it
opposed democracy in government. True, owing to the fact that, following
the line of industrial evolution, the trade-union movement was not strongly
enough developed to even attempt any organization for the expression of
industrial democracy comparable to the Constituent Assembly. It is equally
true, however, that had such an organization existed the necessity to
suppress it, as the political organization was suppressed, would have
proceeded inevitably and irresistibly from the creation of a dictatorship.
_There cannot be, in any country, as co-existent forces, political
dictatorship and industrial democracy._ It is also true that such
democratic agencies as there were existing the Bolsheviki neglected.
That the Bolsheviki did not establish industrial democracy in its fullest
sense is not to be charged to their discredit. Had Bolshevism never
appeared, and had the Constituent Assembly been permitted to function
unmolested and free, it would have taken many years to realize anything
like a well-rounded industrial democracy, for which a highly developed
industrial system is absolutely essential. The leaders of the Bolshevik
movement recognized from the first that the time had not yet arrived for
even attempting to set up a Socialist commonwealth based on the social
ownership and democratic control of industry. Lenine frankly declared that
"Socialism cannot now prevail in Russia,"[64] and Trotzky said, a month
after the _coup d'état_: "We are not ready yet to take over all
industry.... For the present, we expect of the earnings of a factory to pay
the owner 5 or 6 per cent. yearly on his actual investment. What we aim at
now is _control_ rather than _ownership_."[65] He did not tell Professor
Ross, who records this statement, on what grounds the owner of the property
thus controlled by the Soviet government, and who thus becomes a partner of
the government, is to be excluded from the exercise of the franchise. But
let that pass.
When the Bolsheviki seized the power of the state, they found themselves
confronted by a terrific task. Russia was utterly demoralized. An
undeveloped nation industrially, war and internal strife had wrought havoc
with the industrial life she had. Her railways were neglected and the whole
transportation system, entirely inadequate even for peace needs, had, under
the strain of the war, fallen into chaos. After the March Revolution, as a
natural consequence of the intoxication of the new freedom, such
disciplines as had existed were broken down. Production fell off in a most
alarming manner. During the Kerensky régime Skobelev, as Minister of Labor,
repeatedly begged the workers to prove their loyalty to the Revolution by
increased exertion and faithfulness in the workshops and factories. The
Bolsheviki, on their part, as a means of fighting the Provisional
Government, preached the opposite doctrine, that of sabotage. In every
manner possible they encouraged the workers to limit production, to waste
time and materials, strike for trivial reasons, and, in short, do all that
was possible to defeat the effort to place industry upon a sound basis.
When they found themselves in possession of the powers of government the
Bolshevik leaders soon had to face the stern realities of the conditions
essential to the life of a great nation. They could not escape the
necessity of intensifying production. They had not only promised peace, but
bread, and bread comes only from labor. Every serious student of the
problem has realized that the first great task of any Socialist society
must be _to increase the productivity of labor_. It is all very well for a
popular propaganda among the masses to promise a great reduction in the
hours of labor and, at the same time, a great improvement in the standards
of living. The translation of such promises into actual achievements must
prove to be an enormous task. To build the better homes, make the better
and more abundant clothing, shoes, furniture, and other things required to
fulfil the promise, will require a great deal of labor, and such an
organization of industry upon a basis of efficiency as no nation has yet
developed. If the working class of this or any other country should take
possession of the existing organization of production, there would not be
enough in the fund now going to the capitalist class to satisfy the
requirements of the workers, _even if not a penny of compensation were paid
to the expropriated owners_. Kautsky, among others, has courageously faced
this fact and insisted that "it will be one of the imperative tasks of the
Social Revolution not simply to continue, but to increase production; the
victorious proletariat must extend production rapidly if it is to be able
to satisfy the enormous demands that will be made upon the new régime."[66]
From the first
this problem had to be faced by the Bolshevik government. We find Lenine
insisting that the workers must be inspired with "idealism, self-sacrifice,
and persistence" to turn out as large a product as possible; that the
productivity of labor must be raised and a high level of industrial
performance as the duty of every worker be rigorously insisted upon. It is
not enough to have destroyed feudalism and the monarchy:
In every Socialist revolution, however, the main task of the
proletariat, and of the poorest peasantry led by it--and, hence,
also in the Socialist revolution in Russia inaugurated by us on
November 7, 1917, consists in the positive and constructive work
of establishing an extremely complex and delicate net of newly
organized relationships covering the systematic production and
distribution of products which are necessary for the existence of
tens of millions of people. The successful realization of such a
revolution depends on the original historical creative work of the
majority of the population, and first of all of the majority of
the toilers. _The victory of the Socialist revolution will not be
assured unless the proletariat and the poorest peasantry manifest
sufficient consciousness, idealism, self-sacrifice, and
persistence._ With the creation of a new--the Soviet--type of
state, offering to the oppressed toiling masses the opportunity to
participate actively in the free construction of a new society, we
have solved only a small part of the difficult task. _The main
difficulty is in the economic domain; to raise the productivity of
labor, to establish strict and universal accounting and control of
production and distribution, and actually to socialize
production._[67]
Lenine recognizes, as every thoughtful person must, that this task of
organizing production and distribution cannot be undertaken by "the
proletariat and the poorest peasants." It requires a vast amount of highly
developed technical knowledge and skill, the result of long training and
superior education. This kind of service is so highly paid, in comparison
with the wages paid to the manual workers, that it lifts those who perform
the service and receive the high salaries into the ranks of the
bourgeoisie. Certainly, even though they are engaged in performing work of
the highest value and the most vital consequence, the specialists, experts,
and directing managers of industry are not of the "working class," as that
term is commonly employed. And no matter how we may speculate upon the
possible attainment of approximate equality of income in some future near
or remote, the fact is that the labor of such men can only be secured by
paying much more than is paid to the manual workers.
Quite wisely, the Bolshevik government decided that it must have such
services, no matter that they must be highly paid for; that they could only
be rendered by the hated bourgeoisie and that, in consequence, certain
compromises and relations with the bourgeoisie became necessary the moment
the services were engaged. The Bolshevik government recognized the
imperative necessity of the service which only highly paid specialists
could give and wisely decided that no prejudice or theory must be permitted
to block the necessary steps for Russia's reconstruction. In a spirit of
intelligent opportunism, therefore, they subordinated shibboleths,
prejudices, dogmas, and theories to Russia's necessity. The sanity of this
opportunistic attitude is altogether admirable, but it contrasts strangely
with the refusal to co-operate with the bourgeoisie in establishing a
stable democratic government--no less necessary for Russia's reconstruction
and for Socialism. As a matter of fact, the very promptitude and sanity of
their opportunism when faced by responsibility, serves to demonstrate the
truth of the contention made in these pages, that in refusing to co-operate
with others in building up a permanently secure democratic government,
they were actuated by no high moral principle, but simply by a desire to
gain power. The position of Russia to-day would have been vastly different
if the wisdom manifested in the following paragraphs had governed Lenine
and his associates in the days when Kerensky was trying to save Russian
democracy:
_Without the direction of specialists of different branches of
knowledge, technique, and experience, the transformation toward
Socialism is impossible_, for Socialism demands a conscious mass
movement toward a higher productivity of labor in comparison with
capitalism and on the basis which had been attained by capitalism.
Socialism must accomplish this movement forward in its own way, by
its own methods--to make it more definite, by Soviet methods. But
the specialists are inevitably bourgeois on account of the whole
environment of social life which made them specialists.... In view
of the considerable delay in accounting and control in general,
although we have succeeded in defeating sabotage, we have _not
yet_ created an environment which would put at our disposal the
bourgeois specialists. Many sabotagers are coming into our
service, but the best organizers and the biggest specialists can
be used by the state either in the old bourgeois way (that is, for
a higher salary) or in the new proletarian way (that is, by
creating such an environment of universal accounting and control
which would inevitably and naturally attract and gain the
submission of specialists). We were forced now to make use of the
old bourgeois method and agree to a very high remuneration for the
services of the biggest of the bourgeois specialists. All those
who are acquainted with the facts understand this, but not all
give sufficient thought to the significance of such a measure on
the part of the proletarian state. _It is clear that the measure
is a compromise, that it is a defection from the principles of the
Paris Commune and of any proletarian rule, which demand the
reduction of salaries to the standard of remuneration of the
average workers_--principles which demand that "career hunting" be
fought by deeds, not words.
Furthermore, it is clear that such a measure is not merely a halt
in a certain part and to a certain degree of the offensive against
capitalism (for capitalism is not a quantity of money, but a
definite social relationship), _but also a step backward by our
Socialist Soviet state_, which has from the very beginning
proclaimed and carried on a policy of reducing high salaries to
the standard of wages of the average worker.
... The corrupting influence of high salaries is beyond
question--both on the Soviets ... and on the mass of the workers.
But all thinking and honest workers and peasants will agree with
us and will admit that we are unable to get rid at once of the
evil heritage of capitalism.... The sooner we ourselves, workers
and peasants, learn better labor discipline and a higher technique
of toil, making use of the bourgeois specialists for this purpose,
the sooner we will get rid of the need of paying tribute to these
specialists.[68]
We find the same readiness to compromise and to follow the line of least
resistance in dealing with the co-operatives. From 1906 onward there had
been an enormous growth of co-operatives in Russia. They were of various
kinds and animated by varied degrees of social consciousness. They did not
differ materially from the co-operatives of England, Belgium, Denmark,
Italy, or Germany except in the one important particular that they relied
upon bourgeois Intellectuals for leadership and direction to a greater
extent than do the co-operatives in the countries named. They were
admirably fitted to be the nuclei of a socialized system of distribution.
Out of office the Bolsheviki had sneered at these working-class
organizations and denounced them as "bourgeois corruptions of the militant
proletariat." Necessity and responsibility soon forced the adoption of a
new attitude toward them. The Bolshevik government had to accept the
despised co-operatives, and even compromise Bolshevist principles as the
price of securing their services:
A Socialist state can come into existence only as a net of
production and consumption communes, which keep conscientious
accounts of their production and consumption, economize labor,
steadily increasing its productivity and thus making it possible
to lower the workday to seven, six, or even less hours. Anything
less than rigorous, universal, thorough accounting and control of
grain and of the production of grain, and later also of all other
necessary products, will not do. We have inherited from capitalism
mass organizations which can facilitate the transition to mass
accounting and control of distribution--the consumers'
co-operatives. They are developed in Russia less than in the more
advanced countries, but they comprise more than 10,000,000
members. The decree on consumers' associations which was recently
issued is extremely significant, showing clearly the peculiarity
of the position and of the problem of the Socialist Soviet
Republic at the present time.
The decree is an agreement with the bourgeois co-operatives and
with the workmen's co-operatives adhering to the bourgeois
standpoint. The agreement or compromise consists, firstly, in the
fact that the representatives of these institutions not only
participated in the deliberations on this decree, but had
practically received a determining voice, for parts of the decree
which met determined opposition from these institutions were
rejected. Secondly and essentially, the compromise consists in the
rejection by the Soviet authority of the principle of free
admission to the co-operatives (the only consistent principle from
the proletarian standpoint), and that the whole population of a
given locality should be _united in a single co-operative_. The
defection from this, the only Socialist principle, which is in
accord with the problem of doing away with classes, allows the
existence of working-class co-operatives (which in this case call
themselves working-class co-operatives only because they submit to
the class interests of the bourgeoisie). Lastly, the proposition
of the Soviet government completely to exclude the bourgeoisie
from the administration of the co-operatives was also considerably
weakened, and only owners of capitalistic commercial and
industrial enterprises are excluded from the administration.
* * * * *
If the proletariat, acting through the Soviets, should
successfully establish accounting and control on a national scale,
there would be no need for such compromise. Through the Food
Departments of the Soviets, through their organs of supply, we
would unite the population in one co-operative directed by the
proletariat, without the assistance from bourgeois co-operatives,
without concessions to the purely bourgeois principle which
compels the labor co-operatives to remain side by side with the
bourgeois co-operatives instead of wholly subjecting these
bourgeois co-operatives, fusing both?[69]
V
It is no mood of captious, unfriendly criticism that attention is specially
directed to these compromises. Only political charlatans, ineffective
quacks, and irresponsible soap-box orators see crime against the
revolutionary program of the masses in a wise and honest opportunism.
History will not condemn the Bolsheviki for the give-and-take,
compromise-where-necessary policy outlined in the foregoing paragraphs. Its
condemnation will be directed rather against their failure to act in that
spirit from the moment the first Provisional Government arose. Had they
joined with the other Socialists and established a strong Coalition
Government, predominantly Socialist, but including representatives of the
most liberal and democratic elements of the bourgeoisie, it would have been
possible to bring the problems of labor organization and labor discipline
under democratic direction. It would not have been possible to establish
complete industrial democracy, fully developed Socialism, nor will it be
possible to do this for many years to come.
But it would have been easy and natural for the state to secure to the
workers a degree of economic assurance and protection not otherwise
possible. It would have been possible, too, for the workers'
organizations, recognized by and co-operating with the state, to have
undertaken, in a large degree, the control of the conditions of their own
employment which labor organizations everywhere are demanding and gradually
gaining. The best features of "Guild Socialism" could nowhere have been so
easily adopted.[70] But instead of effort in these directions, we find the
Bolsheviki resorting to the _Taylor System of Scientific Management
enforced by an individual dictator whose word is final and absolute, to
disobey whom is treason_! There is not a nation in the world with a
working-class movement of any strength where it would be possible to
introduce the industrial servitude here described:
The most conscious vanguard of the Russian proletariat has already
turned to the problem of increasing labor discipline. For
instance, the central committee of the Metallurgical Union and the
Central Council of the Trades Unions have begun work on respective
measures and drafts of decrees. This work should be supported and
advanced by all means. _We should immediately introduce piece work
and try it out in practice. We should try out every scientific and
progressive suggestion of the Taylor System_; we should compare
the earnings with the general total of production, or the
exploitation results of railroad and water transportation, and so
on.
The Russian is a poor worker in comparison with the workers of the
advanced nations, and this could not be otherwise under the régime
of the Czar and other remnants of feudalism. The last word of
capitalism in this respect, the Taylor System--as well as all
progressive measures of capitalism--combine the refined cruelty of
bourgeois exploitation and a number of most valuable scientific
attainments in the analysis of mechanical motions during work, in
dismissing superfluous and useless motions, in determining the
most correct methods of the work, the best systems of accounting
and control, etc. The Soviet Republic must adopt valuable and
scientific and technical advance in this field. _The possibility
of Socialism will be determined by our success in combining the
Soviet rule and the Soviet organization of management with the
latest progressive measures of capitalism. We must introduce in
Russia the study and the teaching of the Taylor System and its
systematic trial and adaptation_. While working to increase the
productivity of labor, we must at the same time take into account
the peculiarities of the transition period from capitalism to
Socialism, which require, on one hand, that we lay the foundation
for the Socialist organization of emulation, and, on the other
hand, _require the use of compulsion so that the slogan of the
dictatorship of the proletariat should not be weakened by the
practice of a too mild proletarian government_.
The resolution of the last (Moscow) Congress of the Soviets
advocates, as the most important problem at present, the creation
of "efficient organization" and higher discipline. Such
resolutions are now readily supported by everybody. But that their
realization requires compulsion, and _compulsion in the form of a
dictatorship_, is ordinarily not comprehended. And yet, it would
be the greatest stupidity and the most absurd opportunism to
suppose that the transition from capitalism to Socialism is
possible without compulsion and dictatorship. The Marxian theory
has long ago criticized beyond misunderstanding this petty
bourgeois-democratic and anarchistic nonsense. And Russia of
1917-18 confirms in this respect the Marxian theory so clearly,
palpably, and convincingly that only those who are hopelessly
stupid or who have firmly determined to ignore the truth can still
err in this respect. Either a Kornilov dictatorship (if Kornilov
be taken as Russian type of a bourgeois Cavaignac) or a
dictatorship of the proletariat--no other alternative is possible
for a country which is passing through an unusually swift
development with unusually difficult transitions and which suffers
from desperate disorganization created by the most horrible
war.[71]
This dictatorship is to be no light affair, no purely nominal force, but a
relentless iron-hand rule. Lenine is afraid that the proletariat is too
soft-hearted and lenient. He says:
But "dictatorship" is a great word. And great words must not be
used in vain. A dictatorship is an iron rule, with revolutionary
daring and swift and merciless in the suppression of the
exploiters as well as of the thugs (hooligans). And our rule is
too mild, quite frequently resembling jam rather than iron.[72]
And so the dictatorship of the proletariat becomes the _dictatorship of a
single person_, a super-boss and industrial autocrat: We must learn to
combine the stormy, energetic breaking of all restraint on the part of the
toiling masses _with iron discipline during work, with absolute submission
to the will of one person, the Soviet director, during work_.[73]
As I copy these words from Lenine's book my memory recalls the days, more
than twenty years ago, when as a workman in England and as shop steward of
my union I joined with my comrades in breaking down the very things Lenine
here proposes to set up in the name of Socialism. "Absolute submission to
the will of one person" is not a state toward which free men will strive.
Not willingly will men who enjoy the degree of personal freedom existing in
democratic nations turn to this:
With respect to ... the significance of individual dictatorial
power from the standpoint of the specific problems of the present
period, we must say that every large machine industry--which is
the material productive source and basis of Socialism--requires an
absolute and strict unity of the will which directs the joint work
of hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of people. This
necessity is obvious from the technical, economical, and
historical standpoint, and has always been recognized by all those
who had given any thought to Socialism, as its prerequisite. But
how can we secure a strict unity of will? _By subjecting the will
of thousands_ to the will of one.
This subjection, _if the participants in the common work are
ideally conscious and disciplined_, may resemble the mild leading
of an orchestra conductor; but may take the acute form of a
dictatorship--if there is no ideal discipline and consciousness.
But at any rate, _complete submission to a single will is
absolutely necessary for the success of the processes of work
which is organized on the type of large machine industry_. This is
doubly true of the railways. And just this transition from one
political problem to another, which in appearance has no
resemblance to the first, constitutes the peculiarity of the
present period. The Revolution has just broken the oldest, the
strongest, and the heaviest chains to which the masses were
compelled to submit. So it was yesterday. And to-day, the same
Revolution (and indeed in the interest of Socialism) demands the
_absolute submission_ of the masses to the _single will_ of those
who direct the labor process. It is self-evident that it can be
realized only after great upheavals, crises, returns to the old;
only through the greatest strain of the energy of the proletarian
vanguard which is leading the people to the new order....
To the extent to which the principal problem of the Soviet rule
changes from military suppression to administration, suppression
and compulsion will, _as a rule, be manifested in trials, and not
in shooting on the spot_. And in this respect the revolutionary
masses have taken, after November 7, 1918, the right road and have
proved the vitality of the Revolution, when they started to
organize their own workmen's and peasants' tribunals, before any
decrees were issued dismissing the bourgeois-democratic judicial
apparatus. _But our revolutionary and popular tribunals are
excessively and incredibly weak. It is apparent that the popular
view of the courts--which was inherited from the régime of the
landowners and the bourgeoisie--as not their own, has not yet been
completely destroyed_. It is not sufficiently appreciated that the
courts serve to attract all the poor to administration (for
judicial activity is one of the functions of state
administration); that the court is _an organ of the rule of the
proletariat and of the poorest peasantry; that the court is a
means of training in discipline_. There is a lack of appreciation
of the simple and obvious fact that, if the chief misfortunes of
Russia are famine and unemployment, these misfortunes cannot be
overcome by any outbursts of enthusiasm, but only by thorough and
universal organization and discipline, in order to increase the
production of bread for men and fuel for industry, to transport it
in time, and to distribute it in the right way. That therefore
_responsibility_ for the pangs of famine and unemployment falls on
_every one who violates the labor discipline in any enterprise and
in any business_. That those who are responsible should be
discovered, tried, and _punished without mercy_. The petty
bourgeois environment, which we will have to combat persistently
now, shows particularly in the lack of comprehension of the
economic and political connection between famine and unemployment
and the _prevailing dissoluteness in organization and
discipline_--in the firm hold of the view of the small proprietor
that "nothing matters, if only I gain as much as possible."
A characteristic struggle occurred on this basis in connection
with the last decree on railway management, the decree which
granted dictatorial (or "unlimited") power to individual
directors. The conscious (and mostly, probably, unconscious)
representatives of petty bourgeois dissoluteness contended that
the granting of "unlimited" (_i.e._, dictatorial) power to
individuals was a defection from the principle of board
administration, from the democratic and other principles of the
Soviet rule. Some of the Socialist-Revolutionists of the left wing
carried on a plainly demagogic agitation against the decree on
dictatorship, appealing to the evil instincts and to the petty
bourgeois desire for personal gain. The question thus presented is
of really great significance; firstly, the question of principle
is, in general, the appointment of individuals endowed with
unlimited power, the appointment of dictators, in accord with the
fundamental principles of the Soviet rule; secondly, in what
relation is this case--this precedent, if you wish--to the special
problems of the Soviet rule during the present concrete period?
Both questions deserve serious consideration.[74]
With characteristic ingenuity Lenine attempts to provide this dictatorship
with a theoretical basis which will pass muster as Marxian Socialism. He
uses the term "Soviet democracy" as a synonym for democratic Socialism and
says there is "absolutely no contradiction in principle" between it and
"the use of dictatorial power of individuals." By what violence to reason
and to language is the word _democracy_ applied to the system described by
Lenine? To use words with such scant respect to their meanings, established
by etymology, history, and universal agreement in usage, is to invite and
indeed compel the contempt of minds disciplined by reason's practices. As
for the claim that there is no contradiction in principle between
democratic Socialism and the exercise of dictatorial power by individuals,
before it can be accepted every Socialist teacher and leader of any
standing anywhere, the programs of all the Socialist parties, and their
practice, must be denied and set aside. Whether democratic Socialism be
wise or unwise, a practical possibility or an unrealizable idea, at least
it has nothing in common with such reactionary views as are expressed in
the following:
That the dictatorship of individuals has very frequently in the
history of revolutionary movements served as an expression and
means of realization of the dictatorship of the revolutionary
classes is confirmed by the undisputed experience of history. With
bourgeois democratic principles, the dictatorship of individuals
has undoubtedly been compatible. But this point is always treated
adroitly by the bourgeois critics of the Soviet rule and by their
petty bourgeois aides. On one hand, they declared the Soviet rule
simply something absurd and anarchically wild, carefully avoiding
all our historical comparisons and theoretical proofs that the
Soviets are a higher form of democracy; nay, more, the beginning
of a _Socialist_ form of democracy. On the other hand, they demand
of us a higher democracy than the bourgeois and argue: with your
Bolshevist (_i.e._, Socialist, not bourgeois) democratic
principles, with the Soviet democratic principles, individual
dictatorship is absolutely incompatible.
Extremely poor arguments, these. If we are not Anarchists, we must
admit the necessity of a state--that is, of _compulsion_, for the
transition from capitalism to Socialism. The form of compulsion is
determined by the degree of development of the particular
revolutionary class, then by such special circumstances as, for
instance, the heritage of a long and reactionary war, and then by
the forms of resistance of the bourgeoisie and the petty
bourgeoisie. _There is therefore absolutely no contradiction in
principle between the Soviet (Socialist) democracy and the use of
dictatorial power of individuals_. The distinction between a
proletarian and a bourgeois dictatorship consists in this: that
the first directs its attacks against the exploiting minority in
the interests of the exploited majority; and, further, in this,
that the first is accomplished (also through individuals) not only
by the masses of the exploited toilers, but also by the
organizations which are so constructed that they arouse these
masses to historical creative work (the Soviets belong to this
kind of organization).[75]
This, then, is Bolshevism, not as it is seen and described by unfriendly
"bourgeois" writers, but as it is seen and described by the acknowledged
intellectual and political leader of the Bolsheviki, Nikolai Lenine. I have
not taken any non-Bolshevist authority; I have not even restated his views
in a summary of my own, lest into the summary might be injected some
reflexes of my own critical thought. Bolshevism is revealed in all its
reactionary repulsiveness as something between which and absolute,
individual dictatorial power there is "absolutely no contradiction in
principle." It will not avail for our American followers and admirers of
the Bolsheviki to plead that these things are temporary, compromises with
the ideal due to the extraordinary circumstances prevailing in Russia, and
to beg a mitigation of the severity of our judgment on that account.
The answer to the plea is twofold: in the first place, they who offer it
must, if they are sincere, abandon the savagely critical attitude they have
seen fit to adopt toward our own government and nation because with
"extraordinary conditions prevailing" we have had introduced conscription,
unusual restrictions of movement and of utterance, and so forth. How else,
indeed, can their sincerity be demonstrated? If the fact that extraordinary
conditions justified Lenine and his associates in instituting a régime so
tyrannical, what rule of reason or of morals must be invoked to refuse to
count the extraordinary conditions produced in our own nation by the war as
justification for the special measures of military service and discipline
here introduced?
But there is a second answer to the claim which is more direct and
conclusive. It is not open to argument at all. It is found in the words of
Lenine himself, in his claim that there is absolutely no contradiction
between the principle of individual dictatorship, ruling with iron hand,
and the principle upon which Soviet government rests. There has been no
compromise here, for if there is no contradiction in principle no
compromise could have been required. Lenine is not afraid to make or to
admit making compromises; he admits that compromises have been made. It was
a compromise to employ highly salaried specialists from the bourgeoisie, "a
defection from the principles of the Paris Commune and of any proletarian
rule," as he says. It was a compromise, another "defection from the only
Socialist principle," to admit the right of the co-operatives to determine
their own conditions of membership. Having made these declarations quite
candidly, he takes pains to assure us that there was no such defection from
principle in establishing the absolute rule of an individual dictator,
that there was absolutely no contradiction in principle in this.[76]
Moreover, there is no reason for regarding this dictatorship as a temporary
thing, if Lenine himself is to be accepted as an authoritative spokesman.
Obviously, if there is nothing in the principle of an absolute individual
dictatorship which is in contradiction to the Bolshevik ideal, there can be
no Bolshevik principle which necessarily requires for its realization the
ending of such dictatorship. Why, therefore, may it not be continued
indefinitely? Certainly, if the dictatorship is abolished it will not
be--if Lenine is to be seriously considered--on account of its
incompatibility with Bolshevik principles.
VI
The Bolshevik government of Russia is credited by many of its admirers in
this country with having solved the great land problem and with having
satisfied the land-hunger of the peasants. It is charged, moreover, that
the bitter opposition to the Bolsheviki is mainly due to agitation by the
bourgeoisie, led by the expropriated landowners, who want to defeat the
Revolution and to have their former titles to the land restored. Of course,
it is true that, so far as they dare to do so, the former landowners
actively oppose the Bolsheviki. No expropriated class ever acted otherwise,
and it would be foolish to expect anything else. But any person who
believes that the opposition of the great peasant Socialist organizations,
and especially of the Socialist-Revolutionists, is due to the confiscation
of the land, either consciously or unconsciously, is capable of believing
anything and quite immune from rationality.
The facts in the case are, briefly, as follows: First, as Professor Ross
has pointed out,[77] the land policy of the Bolshevik government was a
compromise of the principles long advocated by its leaders, a compromise
made for political reasons only. Second, as Marie Spiridonova abundantly
demonstrated at an All-Russian Soviet Conference in July, 1918, the
Bolshevik government did not honorably live up to its agreement with the
Socialist-Revolutionists of the Left. Third, so far as the land problem was
concerned there was not the slightest need or justification for the
Bolshevik _coup d'état_, for the reason that the problem had already been
solved on the precise lines afterward followed in the Soviet decree and the
leaders of the peasants were satisfied. We have the authority of no less
competent a witness than Litvinov, Bolshevist Minister to England, that
"the land measure had been 'lifted' bodily from the program of the
Socialist-Revolutionists."[78] Each of these statements is amply sustained
by evidence which cannot be disputed or overcome.
That the "land decree" which the Bolshevik government promulgated was a
compromise with their long-cherished principles admits of no doubt
whatever. Every one who has kept informed concerning Russian revolutionary
movements during the past twenty or twenty-five years knows that during all
that time one of the principal subjects of controversy among Socialists was
the land question and the proper method of solving it. The "Narodniki," or
peasant Socialists, later organized into the Socialist-Revolutionary party,
wanted distribution of the land belonging to the big estates among the
peasant communes, to be co-operatively owned and managed. They did not want
land nationalization, which was the program of the Marxists--the Social
Democrats. This latter program meant that, instead of the land being
divided among the peasants' communal organizations, it should be owned,
used, and managed by the state, the principles of large-scale production
and wage labor being applied to agriculture in the same manner as to
industry.
The attitude of the Social Democratic party toward the peasant Socialists
and their program was characterized by that same certainty that small
agricultural holdings were to pass away, and by the same contemptuous
attitude toward the peasant life and peasant aspirations that we find in
the writings of Marx, Engels, Liebknecht, and many other Marxists.[79]
Lenine himself had always adopted this attitude. He never trusted the
peasants and was opposed to any program which would give the land to them
as they desired. Mr. Walling, who spent nearly three years in Russia,
including the whole period of the Revolution of 1905-06, writes of Lenine's
position at that time:
Like Alexinsky, Lenine awaits the agrarian movement ... and hopes
that a railway strike with the destruction of the lines of
communication and _the support of the peasantry_ may some day put
the government of Russia into the people's hands. However, I was
shocked to find that this important leader also, though he expects
a full co-operation with the peasants on equal terms, _during the
Revolution_, feels toward them a very _deep distrust_, thinking
them to a large extent bigoted and blindly patriotic, and fearing
that they may some day shoot down the working-men as the French
peasants did during the Paris Commune.
The chief basis for this distrust is, of course, the prejudiced
feeling that the peasants are not likely to become good
Socialists. _It is on this account that Lenine and all the Social
Democratic leaders place their hopes on a future development of
large agricultural estates in Russia and the increase of the
landless agricultural working class, which alone they believe
would prove truly Socialist_.[80]
The Russian Social Democratic Labor party, to which Lenine belonged, and of
which he was an influential leader, adopted in 1906 the following program
with regard to land ownership:
1. Confiscation of Church, Monastery, Appanage, Cabinet,[81] and
private estate lands, _except small holdings_, and turning them
over, together with the state lands, to the great organs of local
administration, which have been democratically elected. Land,
however, which is necessary as a basis for future colonization,
together with the forests and bodies of water, which are of
national importance, are to pass into the control of the
democratic state.
2. Wherever conditions are unfavorable for this transformation,
the party declares itself in favor of a division among the
peasants of such of the private estates as already have the petty
farming conditions, or which may be necessary to round out a
reasonable holding.
This program was at the time regarded as a compromise. It did not wholly
suit anybody. The peasant leaders feared the amount of state ownership and
management involved. On the other hand, the extreme left wing of the Social
Democrats--Lenine and his friends--wanted the party to proclaim itself in
favor of _the complete nationalization of all privately owned land, even
that of the small peasant owners_, but were willing, provided the principle
were this stated, to accept, as a temporary expedient, division of the land
in certain exceptional instances. On the other hand, the
Socialist-Revolutionists wanted, not the distribution of lands among a
multitude of private owners, as is very generally supposed, but its
socialization. Their program provided for "the socialization of all
privately owned lands--that is, the taking of them out of the private
ownership of persons into the public ownership and _their management by
democratically organized leagues of communities with the purpose of an
equitable utilization_." They wanted to avoid the creation of a great army
of what they described as "wage-slaves of the state" and, on the other
hand, they wanted to build upon the basis of Russian communism and, as far
as possible, prevent the extension of capitalist methods--and therefore of
the class struggle--into the agrarian life of Russia.
When the Bolsheviki came into power they sought first of all to split the
peasant Socialist movement and gain the support of its extreme left wing.
For this reason they agreed to adopt the program of the Revolutionary
Socialist party. It was Marie Spiridonova who made that arrangement
possible. It was, in fact, a political deal. Lenine and Trotzky, on behalf
of the Bolshevik government, agreed to accept the land policy of the
Socialist-Revolutionists, and in return Spiridonova and her friends agreed
to support the Bolsheviki. There is abundant evidence of the truth of the
following account of Professor Ross:
Among the first acts of the Bolsheviki in power was to square
their debt to the left wing of the Social Revolutionists, their
ally in the _coup d'état_. The latter would accept only one kind
of currency--the expropriation of the private landowners without
compensation and the transfer of all land into the hands of the
peasant communes. The Bolsheviki themselves, as good Marxists,
took no stock in the peasants' commune. As such, pending the
introduction of Socialism, they should, perhaps, have nationalized
the land and rented it to the highest bidder, regardless of
whether it was to be tilled in small parcels without hired labor
or in large blocks on the capitalistic plan. The land edict of
November does, indeed, decree land nationalism; however, the vital
proviso is added that "the use of the land must be equalized--that
is, according to local conditions and according to the ability to
work and the needs of each individual," and further that "the
hiring of labor is not permitted." The administrative machinery is
thus described: "All the confiscated land becomes the land capital
of the nation. Its distribution among the working-people is to be
in charge of the local and central authorities, beginning with the
organized rural and urban communities and ending with the
provincial central organs." Such is the irony of fate. _Those who
had charged the rural land commune with being the most serious
brake upon Russia's progress, and who had stigmatized the
People-ists as reactionaries and Utopians, now came to enact into
law most of their tenets--the equalization of the use of land, the
prohibition of the hiring of labor, and everything else!_[82]
The much-praised land policy of the Bolsheviki is, in fact, not a Bolshevik
policy at all, but one which they have accepted as a compromise for
temporary political advantage. "Claim everything in sight," said a noted
American politician on one occasion to his followers. Our followers of the
Bolsheviki, taught by a very clever propaganda, seem to be acting upon that
maxim. They claim for the Bolsheviki everything which can in the slightest
manner win favor with the American public, notwithstanding that it involves
claiming for the Bolsheviki credit to which they are not entitled. As early
as May 18, 1917, it was announced by the Provisional Government that the
"question of the transfer of the land to the toilers" was to be left to the
Constituent Assembly, and there was never a doubt in the mind of any
Russian Socialist how that body would settle it; never a moment when it was
doubted that the Constituent Assembly would be controlled by the
Socialist-Revolutionary party. When Kerensky became Prime Minister one of
the first acts of his Cabinet was to create a special committee for the
purpose of preparing the law for the socialization of the land and the
necessary machinery for carrying the law into effect. The All-Russian
Peasants' Congress had, as early as May, five months before the Bolshevik
counter-revolution, adopted the land policy for which the Bolsheviki now
are being praised by their admirers in this country. That policy had been
crystallized into a carefully prepared law which had been approved by the
Council of Ministers. The Bolsheviki did no more than to issue a crudely
conceived "decree" which they have never at any time had the power to
enforce in more than about a fourth of Russia--in place of a law which
would have embraced all Russia and have been secure and permanent.