Unfortunately or otherwise, people are prone to believe in the reality of
the things they think ought to be so. This comes of the cheery optimism
which is innate with life itself; and, while it may sometimes be
deplored, it must never be censured, for, as a rule, it is productive of
more good than harm, and of about all the achievement there is in the
world. There are cases where this optimism has been disastrous, as with
the people who lived in Pompeii during its last quivering days; or with
the aristocrats of the time of Louis XVI, who confidently expected the
Deluge to overwhelm their children, or their children's children, but
never themselves. But there is small likelihood that the case of
perverse optimism here to be considered will end in such disaster, while
there is every reason to believe that the great change now manifesting
itself in society will be as peaceful and orderly in its culmination as
it is in its present development.
Out of their constitutional optimism, and because a class struggle is an
abhorred and dangerous thing, the great American people are unanimous in
asserting that there is no class struggle. And by "American people" is
meant the recognized and authoritative mouth-pieces of the American
people, which are the press, the pulpit, and the university. The
journalists, the preachers, and the professors are practically of one
voice in declaring that there is no such thing as a class struggle now
going on, much less that a class struggle will ever go on, in the United
States. And this declaration they continually make in the face of a
multitude of facts which impeach, not so much their sincerity, as affirm,
rather, their optimism.
There are two ways of approaching the subject of the class struggle. The
existence of this struggle can be shown theoretically, and it can be
shown actually. For a class struggle to exist in society there must be,
first, a class inequality, a superior class and an inferior class (as
measured by power); and, second, the outlets must be closed whereby the
strength and ferment of the inferior class have been permitted to escape.
That there are even classes in the United States is vigorously denied by
many; but it is incontrovertible, when a group of individuals is formed,
wherein the members are bound together by common interests which are
peculiarly their interests and not the interests of individuals outside
the group, that such a group is a class. The owners of capital, with
their dependents, form a class of this nature in the United States; the
working people form a similar class. The interest of the capitalist
class, say, in the matter of income tax, is quite contrary to the
interest of the laboring class; and, _vice versa_, in the matter of
poll-tax.
If between these two classes there be a clear and vital conflict of
interest, all the factors are present which make a class struggle; but
this struggle will lie dormant if the strong and capable members of the
inferior class be permitted to leave that class and join the ranks of the
superior class. The capitalist class and the working class have existed
side by side and for a long time in the United States; but hitherto all
the strong, energetic members of the working class have been able to rise
out of their class and become owners of capital. They were enabled to do
this because an undeveloped country with an expanding frontier gave
equality of opportunity to all. In the almost lottery-like scramble for
the ownership of vast unowned natural resources, and in the exploitation
of which there was little or no competition of capital, (the capital
itself rising out of the exploitation), the capable, intelligent member
of the working class found a field in which to use his brains to his own
advancement. Instead of being discontented in direct ratio with his
intelligence and ambitions, and of radiating amongst his fellows a spirit
of revolt as capable as he was capable, he left them to their fate and
carved his own way to a place in the superior class.
But the day of an expanding frontier, of a lottery-like scramble for the
ownership of natural resources, and of the upbuilding of new industries,
is past. Farthest West has been reached, and an immense volume of
surplus capital roams for investment and nips in the bud the patient
efforts of the embryo capitalist to rise through slow increment from
small beginnings. The gateway of opportunity after opportunity has been
closed, and closed for all time. Rockefeller has shut the door on oil,
the American Tobacco Company on tobacco, and Carnegie on steel. After
Carnegie came Morgan, who triple-locked the door. These doors will not
open again, and before them pause thousands of ambitious young men to
read the placard: NO THOROUGH-FARE.
And day by day more doors are shut, while the ambitious young men
continue to be born. It is they, denied the opportunity to rise from the
working class, who preach revolt to the working class. Had he been born
fifty years later, Andrew Carnegie, the poor Scotch boy, might have risen
to be president of his union, or of a federation of unions; but that he
would never have become the builder of Homestead and the founder of
multitudinous libraries, is as certain as it is certain that some other
man would have developed the steel industry had Andrew Carnegie never
been born.
Theoretically, then, there exist in the United States all the factors
which go to make a class struggle. There are the capitalists and working
classes, the interests of which conflict, while the working class is no
longer being emasculated to the extent it was in the past by having drawn
off from it its best blood and brains. Its more capable members are no
longer able to rise out of it and leave the great mass leaderless and
helpless. They remain to be its leaders.
But the optimistic mouthpieces of the great American people, who are
themselves deft theoreticians, are not to be convinced by mere
theoretics. So it remains to demonstrate the existence of the class
struggle by a marshalling of the facts.
When nearly two millions of men, finding themselves knit together by
certain interests peculiarly their own, band together in a strong
organization for the aggressive pursuit of those interests, it is evident
that society has within it a hostile and warring class. But when the
interests which this class aggressively pursues conflict sharply and
vitally with the interests of another class, class antagonism arises and
a class struggle is the inevitable result. One great organization of
labor alone has a membership of 1,700,000 in the United States. This is
the American Federation of Labor, and outside of it are many other large
organizations. All these men are banded together for the frank purpose
of bettering their condition, regardless of the harm worked thereby upon
all other classes. They are in open antagonism with the capitalist
class, while the manifestos of their leaders state that the struggle is
one which can never end until the capitalist class is exterminated.
Their leaders will largely deny this last statement, but an examination
of their utterances, their actions, and the situation will forestall such
denial. In the first place, the conflict between labor and capital is
over the division of the join product. Capital and labor apply
themselves to raw material and make it into a finished product. The
difference between the value of the raw material and the value of the
finished product is the value they have added to it by their joint
effort. This added value is, therefore, their joint product, and it is
over the division of this joint product that the struggle between labor
and capital takes place. Labor takes its share in wages; capital takes
its share in profits. It is patent, if capital took in profits the whole
joint product, that labor would perish. And it is equally patent, if
labor took in wages the whole joint product, that capital would perish.
Yet this last is the very thing labor aspires to do, and that it will
never be content with anything less than the whole joint product is
evidenced by the words of its leaders.
Mr. Samuel Gompers, president of the American Federation of Labor, has
said: "The workers want more wages; more of the comforts of life; more
leisure; more chance for self-improvement as men, as trade-unionists, as
citizens. _These were the wants of yesterday_; _they are the wants of
today_; _they will be the wants of tomorrow_, _and of tomorrow's morrow_.
The struggle may assume new forms, but the issue is the immemorial
one,--an effort of the producers to obtain an increasing measure of the
wealth that flows from their production."
Mr. Henry White, secretary of the United Garment Workers of America and a
member of the Industrial Committee of the National Civic Federation,
speaking of the National Civic Federation soon after its inception, said:
"To fall into one another's arms, to avow friendship, to express regret
at the injury which has been done, would not alter the facts of the
situation. Workingmen will continue to demand more pay, and the employer
will naturally oppose them. The readiness and ability of the workmen to
fight will, as usual, largely determine the amount of their wages or
their share in the product. . . But when it comes to dividing the
proceeds, there is the rub. We can also agree that the larger the
product through the employment of labor-saving methods the better, as
there will be more to be divided, but again the question of the
division. . . . A Conciliation Committee, having the confidence of the
community, and composed of men possessing practical knowledge of
industrial affairs, can therefore aid in mitigating this antagonism, in
preventing avoidable conflicts, in bringing about a _truce_; I use the
word 'truce' because understandings can only be temporary."
Here is a man who might have owned cattle on a thousand hills, been a
lumber baron or a railroad king, had he been born a few years sooner. As
it is, he remains in his class, is secretary of the United Garment
Workers of America, and is so thoroughly saturated with the class
struggle that he speaks of the dispute between capital and labor in terms
of war,--workmen _fight_ with employers; it is possible to avoid some
_conflicts_; in certain cases _truces_ may be, for the time being,
effected.
Man being man and a great deal short of the angels, the quarrel over the
division of the joint product is irreconcilable. For the last twenty
years in the United States, there has been an average of over a thousand
strikes per year; and year by year these strikes increase in magnitude,
and the front of the labor army grows more imposing. And it is a class
struggle, pure and simple. Labor as a class is fighting with capital as
a class.
Workingmen will continue to demand more pay, and employers will continue
to oppose them. This is the key-note to _laissez faire_,--everybody for
himself and devil take the hindmost. It is upon this that the rampant
individualist bases his individualism. It is the let-alone policy, the
struggle for existence, which strengthens the strong, destroys the weak,
and makes a finer and more capable breed of men. But the individual has
passed away and the group has come, for better or worse, and the struggle
has become, not a struggle between individuals, but a struggle between
groups. So the query rises: Has the individualist never speculated upon
the labor group becoming strong enough to destroy the capitalist group,
and take to itself and run for itself the machinery of industry? And,
further, has the individualist never speculated upon this being still a
triumphant expression of individualism,--of group individualism,--if the
confusion of terms may be permitted?
But the facts of the class struggle are deeper and more significant than
have so far been presented. A million or so of workmen may organize for
the pursuit of interests which engender class antagonism and strife, and
at the same time be unconscious of what is engendered. But when a
million or so of workmen show unmistakable signs of being conscious of
their class,--of being, in short, class conscious,--then the situation
grows serious. The uncompromising and terrible hatred of the
trade-unionist for a scab is the hatred of a class for a traitor to that
class,--while the hatred of a trade-unionist for the militia is the
hatred of a class for a weapon wielded by the class with which it is
fighting. No workman can be true to his class and at the same time be a
member of the militia: this is the dictum of the labor leaders.
In the town of the writer, the good citizens, when they get up a Fourth
of July parade and invite the labor unions to participate, are informed
by the unions that they will not march in the parade if the militia
marches. Article 8 of the constitution of the Painters' and Decorators'
Union of Schenectady provides that a member must not be a "militiaman,
special police officer, or deputy marshal in the employ of corporations
or individuals during strikes, lockouts, or other labor difficulties, and
any member occupying any of the above positions will be debarred from
membership." Mr. William Potter was a member of this union and a member
of the National Guard. As a result, because he obeyed the order of the
Governor when his company was ordered out to suppress rioting, he was
expelled from his union. Also his union demanded his employers, Shafer &
Barry, to discharge him from their service. This they complied with,
rather than face the threatened strike.
Mr. Robert L. Walker, first lieutenant of the Light Guards, a New Haven
militia company, recently resigned. His reason was, that he was a member
of the Car Builders' Union, and that the two organizations were
antagonistic to each other. During a New Orleans street-car strike not
long ago, a whole company of militia, called out to protect non-union
men, resigned in a body. Mr. John Mulholland, president of the
International Association of Allied Metal Mechanics, has stated that he
does not want the members to join the militia. The Local Trades'
Assembly of Syracuse, New York, has passed a resolution, by unanimous
vote, requiring union men who are members of the National Guard to
resign, under pain of expulsion, from the unions. The Amalgamated Sheet
Metal Workers' Association has incorporated in its constitution an
amendment excluding from membership in its organization "any person a
member of the regular army, or of the State militia or naval reserve."
The Illinois State Federation of Labor, at a recent convention, passed
without a dissenting vote a resolution declaring that membership in
military organizations is a violation of labor union obligations, and
requesting all union men to withdraw from the militia. The president of
the Federation, Mr. Albert Young, declared that the militia was a menace
not only to unions, but to all workers throughout the country.
These instances may be multiplied a thousand fold. The union workmen are
becoming conscious of their class, and of the struggle their class is
waging with the capitalist class. To be a member of the militia is to be
a traitor to the union, for the militia is a weapon wielded by the
employers to crush the workers in the struggle between the warring
groups.
Another interesting, and even more pregnant, phase of the class struggle
is the political aspect of it as displayed by the socialists. Five men,
standing together, may perform prodigies; 500 men, marching as marched
the historic Five Hundred of Marseilles, may sack a palace and destroy a
king; while 500,000 men, passionately preaching the propaganda of a class
struggle, waging a class struggle along political lines, and backed by
the moral and intellectual support of 10,000,000 more men of like
convictions throughout the world, may come pretty close to realizing a
class struggle in these United States of ours.
In 1900 these men cast 150,000 votes; two years later, in 1902, they cast
300,000 votes; and in 1904 they cast 450,000. They have behind them a
most imposing philosophic and scientific literature; they own illustrated
magazines and reviews, high in quality, dignity, and restraint; they
possess countless daily and weekly papers which circulate throughout the
land, and single papers which have subscribers by the hundreds of
thousands; and they literally swamp the working classes in a vast sea of
tracts and pamphlets. No political party in the United States, no church
organization nor mission effort, has as indefatigable workers as has the
socialist party. They multiply themselves, know of no effort nor
sacrifice too great to make for the Cause; and "Cause," with them, is
spelled out in capitals. They work for it with a religious zeal, and
would die for it with a willingness similar to that of the Christian
martyrs.
These men are preaching an uncompromising and deadly class struggle. In
fact, they are organized upon the basis of a class struggle. "The
history of society," they say, "is a history of class struggles.
Patrician struggled with plebeian in early Rome; the king and the
burghers, with the nobles in the Middle Ages; later on, the king and the
nobles with the bourgeoisie; and today the struggle is on between the
triumphant bourgeoisie and the rising proletariat. By 'proletariat' is
meant the class of people without capital which sells its labor for a
living.
"That the proletariat shall conquer," (mark the note of fatalism), "is as
certain as the rising sun. Just as the bourgeoisie of the eighteenth
century wanted democracy applied to politics, so the proletariat of the
twentieth century wants democracy applied to industry. As the
bourgeoisie complained against the government being run by and for the
nobles, so the proletariat complains against the government and industry
being run by and for the bourgeoisie; and so, following in the footsteps
of its predecessor, the proletariat will possess itself of the
government, apply democracy to industry, abolish wages, which are merely
legalized robbery, and run the business of the country in its own
interest."
"Their aim," they say, "is to organize the working class, and those in
sympathy with it, into a political party, with the object of conquering
the powers of government and of using them for the purpose of
transforming the present system of private ownership of the means of
production and distribution into collective ownership by the entire
people."
Briefly stated, this is the battle plan of these 450,000 men who call
themselves "socialists." And, in the face of the existence of such an
aggressive group of men, a class struggle cannot very well be denied by
the optimistic Americans who say: "A class struggle is monstrous. Sir,
there is no class struggle." The class struggle is here, and the
optimistic American had better gird himself for the fray and put a stop
to it, rather than sit idly declaiming that what ought not to be is not,
and never will be.
But the socialists, fanatics and dreamers though they may well be, betray
a foresight and insight, and a genius for organization, which put to
shame the class with which they are openly at war. Failing of rapid
success in waging a sheer political propaganda, and finding that they
were alienating the most intelligent and most easily organized portion of
the voters, the socialists lessoned from the experience and turned their
energies upon the trade-union movement. To win the trade unions was
well-nigh to win the war, and recent events show that they have done far
more winning in this direction than have the capitalists.
Instead of antagonizing the unions, which had been their previous policy,
the socialists proceeded to conciliate the unions. "Let every good
socialist join the union of his trade," the edict went forth. "Bore from
within and capture the trade-union movement." And this policy, only
several years old, has reaped fruits far beyond their fondest
expectations. Today the great labor unions are honeycombed with
socialists, "boring from within," as they picturesquely term their
undermining labor. At work and at play, at business meeting and council,
their insidious propaganda goes on. At the shoulder of the
trade-unionist is the socialist, sympathizing with him, aiding him with
head and hand, suggesting--perpetually suggesting--the necessity for
political action. As the _Journal_, of Lansing, Michigan, a republican
paper, has remarked: "The socialists in the labor unions are tireless
workers. They are sincere, energetic, and self-sacrificing. . . . They
stick to the union and work all the while, thus making a showing which,
reckoned by ordinary standards, is out of all proportion to their
numbers. Their cause is growing among union laborers, and their long
fight, intended to turn the Federation into a political organization, is
likely to win."
They miss no opportunity of driving home the necessity for political
action, the necessity for capturing the political machinery of society
whereby they may master society. As an instance of this is the avidity
with which the American socialists seized upon the famous Taft-Vale
Decision in England, which was to the effect that an unincorporated union
could be sued and its treasury rifled by process of law. Throughout the
United States, the socialists pointed the moral in similar fashion to the
way it was pointed by the Social-Democratic Herald, which advised the
trade-unionists, in view of the decision, to stop trying to fight capital
with money, which they lacked, and to begin fighting with the ballot,
which was their strongest weapon.
Night and day, tireless and unrelenting, they labor at their self-imposed
task of undermining society. Mr. M. G. Cunniff, who lately made an
intimate study of trade-unionism, says: "All through the unions socialism
filters. Almost every other man is a socialist, preaching that unionism
is but a makeshift." "Malthus be damned," they told him, "for the good
time was coming when every man should be able to rear his family in
comfort." In one union, with two thousand members, Mr. Cunniff found
every man a socialist, and from his experiences Mr. Cunniff was forced to
confess, "I lived in a world that showed our industrial life a-tremble
from beneath with a never-ceasing ferment."
The socialists have already captured the Western Federation of Miners,
the Western Hotel and Restaurant Employees' Union, and the Patternmakers'
National Association. The Western Federation of Miners, at a recent
convention, declared: "The strike has failed to secure to the working
classes their liberty; we therefore call upon the workers to strike as
one man for their liberties at the ballot box. . . . We put ourselves on
record as committed to the programme of independent political action. . . .
We indorse the platform of the socialist party, and accept it as the
declaration of principles of our organization. We call upon our members
as individuals to commence immediately the organization of the socialist
movement in their respective towns and states, and to cooperate in every
way for the furtherance of the principles of socialism and of the
socialist party. In states where the socialist party has not perfected
its organization, we advise that every assistance be given by our members
to that end. . . . We therefore call for organizers, capable and
well-versed in the whole programme of the labor movement, to be sent into
each state to preach the necessity of organization on the political as
well as on the economic field."
The capitalist class has a glimmering consciousness of the class struggle
which is shaping itself in the midst of society; but the capitalists, as
a class, seem to lack the ability for organizing, for coming together,
such as is possessed by the working class. No American capitalist ever
aids an English capitalist in the common fight, while workmen have formed
international unions, the socialists a world-wide international
organization, and on all sides space and race are bridged in the effort
to achieve solidarity. Resolutions of sympathy, and, fully as important,
donations of money, pass back and forth across the sea to wherever labor
is fighting its pitched battles.
For divers reasons, the capitalist class lacks this cohesion or
solidarity, chief among which is the optimism bred of past success. And,
again, the capitalist class is divided; it has within itself a class
struggle of no mean proportions, which tends to irritate and harass it
and to confuse the situation. The small capitalist and the large
capitalist are grappled with each other, struggling over what Achille
Loria calls the "bi-partition of the revenues." Such a struggle, though
not precisely analogous, was waged between the landlords and
manufacturers of England when the one brought about the passage of the
Factory Acts and the other the abolition of the Corn Laws.
Here and there, however, certain members of the capitalist class see
clearly the cleavage in society along which the struggle is beginning to
show itself, while the press and magazines are beginning to raise an
occasional and troubled voice. Two leagues of class-conscious
capitalists have been formed for the purpose of carrying on their side of
the struggle. Like the socialists, they do not mince matters, but state
boldly and plainly that they are fighting to subjugate the opposing
class. It is the barons against the commons. One of these leagues, the
National Association of Manufacturers, is stopping short of nothing in
what it conceives to be a life-and-death struggle. Mr. D. M. Parry, who
is the president of the league, as well as president of the National
Metal Trades' Association, is leaving no stone unturned in what he feels
to be a desperate effort to organize his class. He has issued the call
to arms in terms everything but ambiguous: "_There is still time in the
United States to head off the socialistic programme_, _which_,
_unrestrained_, _is sure to wreck our country_."
As he says, the work is for "federating employers in order that we may
meet with a united front all issues that affect us. We must come to this
sooner or later. . . . The work immediately before the National
Association of Manufacturers is, first, _keep the vicious eight-hour Bill
off the books_; second, to _destroy the Anti-injunction Bill_, which
wrests your business from you and places it in the hands of your
employees; third, to secure the _passage of the Department of Commerce
and Industry Bill_; the latter would go through with a rush were it not
for the hectoring opposition of Organized Labor." By this department, he
further says, "business interests would have direct and sympathetic
representation at Washington."
In a later letter, issued broadcast to the capitalists outside the
League, President Parry points out the success which is already beginning
to attend the efforts of the League at Washington. "We have contributed
more than any other influence to the quick passage of the new Department
of Commerce Bill. It is said that the activities of this office are
numerous and satisfactory; but of that I must not say too much--or
anything. . . . At Washington the Association is not represented too
much, either directly or indirectly. Sometimes it is known in a most
powerful way that it is represented vigorously and unitedly. Sometimes
it is not known that it is represented at all."
The second class-conscious capitalist organization is called the National
Economic League. It likewise manifests the frankness of men who do not
dilly-dally with terms, but who say what they mean, and who mean to
settle down to a long, hard fight. Their letter of invitation to
prospective members opens boldly. "We beg to inform you that the
National Economic League will render its services in an impartial
educational movement _to oppose socialism and class hatred_." Among its
class-conscious members, men who recognize that the opening guns of the
class struggle have been fired, may be instanced the following names:
Hon. Lyman J. Gage, Ex-Secretary U. S. Treasury; Hon. Thomas Jefferson
Coolidge, Ex-Minister to France; Rev. Henry C. Potter, Bishop New York
Diocese; Hon. John D. Long, Ex-Secretary U. S. Navy; Hon. Levi P. Morton,
Ex-Vice President United States; Henry Clews; John F. Dryden, President
Prudential Life Insurance Co.; John A. McCall, President New York Life
Insurance Co.; J. L. Greatsinger, President Brooklyn Rapid Transit Co.;
the shipbuilding firm of William Cramp & Sons, the Southern Railway
system, and the Atchison, Topeka, & Santa Fe Railway Company.
Instances of the troubled editorial voice have not been rare during the
last several years. There were many cries from the press during the last
days of the anthracite coal strike that the mine owners, by their
stubbornness, were sowing the regrettable seeds of socialism. The
World's Work for December, 1902, said: "The next significant fact is the
recommendation by the Illinois State Federation of Labor that all members
of labor unions who are also members of the state militia shall resign
from the militia. This proposition has been favorably regarded by some
other labor organizations. It has done more than any other single recent
declaration or action to cause a public distrust of such unions as favor
it. _It hints of a class separation that in turn hints of anarchy_."
The _Outlook_, February 14, 1903, in reference to the rioting at
Waterbury, remarks, "That all this disorder should have occurred in a
city of the character and intelligence of Waterbury indicates that the
industrial war spirit is by no means confined to the immigrant or
ignorant working classes."
That President Roosevelt has smelt the smoke from the firing line of the
class struggle is evidenced by his words, "Above all we need to remember
that any kind of _class animosity in the political world_ is, if
possible, even more destructive to national welfare than sectional, race,
or religious animosity." The chief thing to be noted here is President
Roosevelt's tacit recognition of class animosity in the industrial world,
and his fear, which language cannot portray stronger, that this class
animosity may spread to the political world. Yet this is the very policy
which the socialists have announced in their declaration of war against
present-day society--to capture the political machinery of society and by
that machinery destroy present-day society.
The New York Independent for February 12, 1903, recognized without
qualification the class struggle. "It is impossible fairly to pass upon
the methods of labor unions, or to devise plans for remedying their
abuses, until it is recognized, to begin with, that unions are based upon
class antagonism and that their policies are dictated by the necessities
of social warfare. A strike is a rebellion against the owners of
property. The rights of property are protected by government. And a
strike, under certain provocation, may extend as far as did the general
strike in Belgium a few years since, when practically the entire
wage-earning population stopped work in order to force political
concessions from the property-owning classes. This is an extreme case,
but it brings out vividly the real nature of labor organization as a
species of warfare whose object is the coercion of one class by another
class."
It has been shown, theoretically and actually, that there is a class
struggle in the United States. The quarrel over the division of the
joint product is irreconcilable. The working class is no longer losing
its strongest and most capable members. These men, denied room for their
ambition in the capitalist ranks, remain to be the leaders of the
workers, to spur them to discontent, to make them conscious of their
class, to lead them to revolt.
This revolt, appearing spontaneously all over the industrial field in the
form of demands for an increased share of the joint product, is being
carefully and shrewdly shaped for a political assault upon society. The
leaders, with the carelessness of fatalists, do not hesitate for an
instant to publish their intentions to the world. They intend to direct
the labor revolt to the capture of the political machinery of society.
With the political machinery once in their hands, which will also give
them the control of the police, the army, the navy, and the courts, they
will confiscate, with or without remuneration, all the possessions of the
capitalist class which are used in the production and distribution of the
necessaries and luxuries of life. By this, they mean to apply the law of
eminent domain to the land, and to extend the law of eminent domain till
it embraces the mines, the factories, the railroads, and the ocean
carriers. In short, they intend to destroy present-day society, which
they contend is run in the interest of another class, and from the
materials to construct a new society, which will be run in their
interest.
On the other hand, the capitalist class is beginning to grow conscious of
itself and of the struggle which is being waged. It is already forming
offensive and defensive leagues, while some of the most prominent figures
in the nation are preparing to lead it in the attack upon socialism.
The question to be solved is not one of Malthusianism, "projected
efficiency," nor ethics. It is a question of might. Whichever class is
to win, will win by virtue of superior strength; for the workers are
beginning to say, as they said to Mr. Cunniff, "Malthus be damned." In
their own minds they find no sanction for continuing the individual
struggle for the survival of the fittest. As Mr. Gompers has said, they
want more, and more, and more. The ethical import of Mr. Kidd's plan of
the present generation putting up with less in order that race efficiency
may be projected into a remote future, has no bearing upon their actions.
They refuse to be the "glad perishers" so glowingly described by
Nietzsche.
It remains to be seen how promptly the capitalist class will respond to
the call to arms. Upon its promptness rests its existence, for if it
sits idly by, soothfully proclaiming that what ought not to be cannot be,
it will find the roof beams crashing about its head. The capitalist
class is in the numerical minority, and bids fair to be outvoted if it
does not put a stop to the vast propaganda being waged by its enemy. It
is no longer a question of whether or not there is a class struggle. The
question now is, what will be the outcome of the class struggle?